The Chosen: Chapter 1
Harry Potter fidgeted in his chair restlessly. He twiddled his thumbs, waiting. He had been called to Twelve Grimmwald Place a few hours ago out of nowhere. Not that he hadn't jumped at the chance to leave Privet Drive- however, returning to Sirius Black's home was the last thing he wanted to do. It had only been a month and a half since Sirius's death … Harry had tried to not think about that horrible day, the day he died, but it was seared into his brain. Every day, every moment, he felt a yawning hole of grief inside of him that threatened to overwhelm him. Sirius …
He flushed and glanced down at his tea, blinking away tears. It was useless to get all worked up over it now, here. It wouldn't bring Sirius back or make the pain any less. Besides, the thought of crying in front of the Order and his friends made him want to throw up. Snape was here, too, and Harry was sure he would love to see Harry so weak. He'd gloat over it for ages.
Harry glared at Snape over his teacup, waves of anger overriding his grief for the time-being. He was partly to blame for Sirius' death, he-
"I mean that Harry's scar has connected him to Voldemort. So what if this girl's scar is the same, and what would that mean? I always thought there was a reason Harry had the scar, I mean the Prophesy and all … but if there are others surviving Voldemort and all and cropping up with scars, well, what are we supposed to make of it?" Mad-Eye Moody's gruff voice broke Harry's thoughts and brought him back to reality with a jolt.
He was here because there had been an attack by Voldemort. A murder. But there had been two attacked, a boy and a girl respectively and only the boy had died. The girl had survived. And Dumbledore had said she had the same scar he did, on her stomach, though.
There were reports that Voldemort was still alive and kicking though, so Harry supposed no curses had rebounded upon him. Indeed, the reason he was here was because the Order was afraid the attack would spawn new attempts at Harry's life.
Harry wasn't really sure what to think about it all. He did feel a twinge of jealousy at the idea that he might not be special anymore. But he also was very curious about this girl.
After all, I am still supposed to kill Voldemort according to the Prophesy, or die by him. Harry thought dully. Even if there's someone else whose marked, they won't be doing the killing, now will they?
The girl hadn't been born at the end of July. Nor did she, according to Dumbledore, have parents who defied Voldemort three times. Probably. Indeed, nothing was known about her parents, except that they were dead. Dumbledore said that the girl had lived in America, on the streets, for the past few years and had only come to England recently. Both the boy and girl had connections with Death Eaters, although Dumbledore said that they had tried to leave. Which was probably why Voldemort had attacked them.
"She has recently suffered a great illness, not to mention the death of the boy. So please be considerate of her and treat her kindly. I daresay we will have to be patient with her, she has been through a lot." Her name was Lina, and she was 15, like Harry. The door opened and the room immediately hushed. Professor McGonagall strode in, with Dumbledore behind her. He led a small girl in gently. Harry stared at Lina. She was shorter than him, and painfully thin. Her body was wrapped in a wine-colored robe, and all that was visible of her were her face and hands, which held the robe tightly about her as though she were frightened it would open and leave her naked otherwise. Both her hands and face were as white as a sheet, and her eyes had large, dark rings beneath them. But her lips were full and hinted at a stolen rosiness. Her hair was brown and to her shoulders. Her eyes were a dark chocolate color. They were the most alive thing about her, Harry realized as he gazed into them. They flashed with anger and pain and a thousand other emotions that Harry could not name at the moment. As he watched them, they turned to him and returned his gaze for a moment. They flickered over his scar, and then away. Dumbledore rested his hands on Lina's shoulders. "I would like to introduce you all to Lina McLean. Lina, this is the Order of the Phoenix. They will watch over you for the remainder of the summer. Hopefully, you shall grow to like them." Dumbledore smiled.
Lina, who had been gazing defiantly at a space on the wall, glared at Dumbledore for an instant. Dumbledore plunged on unperturbed. He listed the names of the Order in turn. Harry felt his heart plummet as he realized that Sirius was not mentioned …
"And these young faces are not in the Order, but have graced us with their presence all the same. Fred, George, Ginny and Ron Weasley are of course the Weasley's children, if you can't tell that by their hair. And then there is the lovely Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."
Lina, who had renewed her interest in the wall, suddenly whipped around and turned to the door. "That's all very nice, I'm sure, but I'd like to go." She said quietly.
Hermione gasped beside Harry. She was glaring at Lina, no doubt offended by her rudeness to the Headmaster.
"I know you would, Lina, but you simply can't. You need to be pro- "Well, what if I left anyway, what would you do? Kill me like him?" Her voice was full of hate. "No one would harm you in any way Lina, but you can't leave. The door has been jinxed so you cannot open it." Dumbledore said calmly. He gazed at her sadly. "Oh, so now I'm a prisoner, am I?" She shouted. The girl lunged at the door suddenly and pulled at its handle. When it didn't budge, she slumped against it. Harry felt a rush of sympathy for her … suddenly, she looked very tired and like she might cry. He knew what it was like to be stuck someplace against his will, and he knew what it felt like to have faced Voldemort and nearly died. He wanted to run out to her and hug her, comfort her.
Come off it, Harry, she's just a girl. He told himself harshly. He really couldn't afford to go fancying some girl now, just because of some stupid scar.
Lina crossed her arms defiantly and watched the floor. Dumbledore sighed. He looked tired, Harry thought. "Lina, I know you are upset at the moment and- "Upset? Upset? Voldemort attacks me and kills my boyfriend and I'm upset?" She laughed wildly. "This is a really nice place you've got here, you know. Very anti-Voldemort, I can tell. Nice touch with the house-elf heads. Can't … Can't I just leave and go back to the U.S.? He won't find me there and I promise I'll never tell anyone if you just let me go!" She was on the verge of tears and breathing very fast now. "You know I can't do that." Dumbledore murmured. "Well … well, you're making a mistake. I just might go into your bedrooms and kill all of you, you know! I'm a death eater, after all!" Snape stood up violently. His face was twitching with anger. "Really, Dombledore, this has gone on long enough! Can't you shut the little brat up? Her tantrum is growing tiring." Lina stammered. She stared at Snape as though she had never seen anything like him before. Dumbledore looked at Snape levelly.
"She has the right to speak." He said simply. He turned to Lina again. "You were a death eater. If you ever were one, that is. You really never followed Voldemort, did you?"
"How would you know? Or do you know everything, Headmaster, sir?" She shouted. She was shaking. Tears ran down her cheeks quite suddenly. Professor McGonagall, who had remained silent since entering, reached a hand out to her. Lina shoved it away. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" She screamed. She wheeled about hysterically. "You can't make me stare here, I won't! If I have to stay locked up in a hellhole like this, with people like that - Lina waved a hand in Snape's direction - then I'd rather have died like Mark! Like … Mark …" She gave a sob and grew quiet, swaying a little. When Dumbledore reached out to stead her, Lina began to cough horribly. Harry watched, horrified, as she doubled over into a coughing fit. It was an awful hacking noise, echoing in the silent room loud and uncontrollable. All her anger and fire had faded, she looked so ill and feeble all of a sudden. Again, Harry longed to hold her. He wanted the anger to flare up inside her again, for her to start raging again, if only she would not look so weak and vulnerable and tiny. Dumbledore held her for a moment and then gave his wand a small whirl. A teacup appeared on the dining table, filled with a strange, warm and syrupy substance. Dumbledore led the coughing girl to the table and sat her down in front of the cup.
"Drink this." He helped the liquid into her mouth, which she choked and sputtered upon for a moment. Then she took the drink into her hands and swallowed all of it needily.
Her coughs had ceased and the room was more silent than ever. Lina was very near Harry now. He half expected her to spring up and start screaming again, but she looked more tired than ever. Her hair fell in front of her face and she wouldn't lift her gaze from the cup.
For a minute, everything and everyone was still and then Dumbledore turned toward the door.
"I must be off but do make sure Lina gets some food into her and rests,won't you?" And then he was gone.
The room came alive then, Mrs. Weasley was urging Lina to eat something, but Lina shook her head. Her face was still hidden by her hair.
"If you insist then … alright, I'll show you to your bed, then. You'll be rooming with Hermione and my daughter, Ginny, their both wonderful girls. The room is very comfy too, come on …"
Harry watched as a subdued Lina followed Mrs. Weasley upstairs. Only a few minutes ago, she had seemed ready to kill them all. Now, she was just a girl who was ill and grieving the loss of her boyfriend - Mark, was it? Harry wasn't sure what to think of her, but she didn't seem capable of surviving Voldemort's wrath. She didn't seem capable of surviving anything anymore.
Harry Potter fidgeted in his chair restlessly. He twiddled his thumbs, waiting. He had been called to Twelve Grimmwald Place a few hours ago out of nowhere. Not that he hadn't jumped at the chance to leave Privet Drive- however, returning to Sirius Black's home was the last thing he wanted to do. It had only been a month and a half since Sirius's death … Harry had tried to not think about that horrible day, the day he died, but it was seared into his brain. Every day, every moment, he felt a yawning hole of grief inside of him that threatened to overwhelm him. Sirius …
He flushed and glanced down at his tea, blinking away tears. It was useless to get all worked up over it now, here. It wouldn't bring Sirius back or make the pain any less. Besides, the thought of crying in front of the Order and his friends made him want to throw up. Snape was here, too, and Harry was sure he would love to see Harry so weak. He'd gloat over it for ages.
Harry glared at Snape over his teacup, waves of anger overriding his grief for the time-being. He was partly to blame for Sirius' death, he-
"I mean that Harry's scar has connected him to Voldemort. So what if this girl's scar is the same, and what would that mean? I always thought there was a reason Harry had the scar, I mean the Prophesy and all … but if there are others surviving Voldemort and all and cropping up with scars, well, what are we supposed to make of it?" Mad-Eye Moody's gruff voice broke Harry's thoughts and brought him back to reality with a jolt.
He was here because there had been an attack by Voldemort. A murder. But there had been two attacked, a boy and a girl respectively and only the boy had died. The girl had survived. And Dumbledore had said she had the same scar he did, on her stomach, though.
There were reports that Voldemort was still alive and kicking though, so Harry supposed no curses had rebounded upon him. Indeed, the reason he was here was because the Order was afraid the attack would spawn new attempts at Harry's life.
Harry wasn't really sure what to think about it all. He did feel a twinge of jealousy at the idea that he might not be special anymore. But he also was very curious about this girl.
After all, I am still supposed to kill Voldemort according to the Prophesy, or die by him. Harry thought dully. Even if there's someone else whose marked, they won't be doing the killing, now will they?
The girl hadn't been born at the end of July. Nor did she, according to Dumbledore, have parents who defied Voldemort three times. Probably. Indeed, nothing was known about her parents, except that they were dead. Dumbledore said that the girl had lived in America, on the streets, for the past few years and had only come to England recently. Both the boy and girl had connections with Death Eaters, although Dumbledore said that they had tried to leave. Which was probably why Voldemort had attacked them.
"She has recently suffered a great illness, not to mention the death of the boy. So please be considerate of her and treat her kindly. I daresay we will have to be patient with her, she has been through a lot." Her name was Lina, and she was 15, like Harry. The door opened and the room immediately hushed. Professor McGonagall strode in, with Dumbledore behind her. He led a small girl in gently. Harry stared at Lina. She was shorter than him, and painfully thin. Her body was wrapped in a wine-colored robe, and all that was visible of her were her face and hands, which held the robe tightly about her as though she were frightened it would open and leave her naked otherwise. Both her hands and face were as white as a sheet, and her eyes had large, dark rings beneath them. But her lips were full and hinted at a stolen rosiness. Her hair was brown and to her shoulders. Her eyes were a dark chocolate color. They were the most alive thing about her, Harry realized as he gazed into them. They flashed with anger and pain and a thousand other emotions that Harry could not name at the moment. As he watched them, they turned to him and returned his gaze for a moment. They flickered over his scar, and then away. Dumbledore rested his hands on Lina's shoulders. "I would like to introduce you all to Lina McLean. Lina, this is the Order of the Phoenix. They will watch over you for the remainder of the summer. Hopefully, you shall grow to like them." Dumbledore smiled.
Lina, who had been gazing defiantly at a space on the wall, glared at Dumbledore for an instant. Dumbledore plunged on unperturbed. He listed the names of the Order in turn. Harry felt his heart plummet as he realized that Sirius was not mentioned …
"And these young faces are not in the Order, but have graced us with their presence all the same. Fred, George, Ginny and Ron Weasley are of course the Weasley's children, if you can't tell that by their hair. And then there is the lovely Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."
Lina, who had renewed her interest in the wall, suddenly whipped around and turned to the door. "That's all very nice, I'm sure, but I'd like to go." She said quietly.
Hermione gasped beside Harry. She was glaring at Lina, no doubt offended by her rudeness to the Headmaster.
"I know you would, Lina, but you simply can't. You need to be pro- "Well, what if I left anyway, what would you do? Kill me like him?" Her voice was full of hate. "No one would harm you in any way Lina, but you can't leave. The door has been jinxed so you cannot open it." Dumbledore said calmly. He gazed at her sadly. "Oh, so now I'm a prisoner, am I?" She shouted. The girl lunged at the door suddenly and pulled at its handle. When it didn't budge, she slumped against it. Harry felt a rush of sympathy for her … suddenly, she looked very tired and like she might cry. He knew what it was like to be stuck someplace against his will, and he knew what it felt like to have faced Voldemort and nearly died. He wanted to run out to her and hug her, comfort her.
Come off it, Harry, she's just a girl. He told himself harshly. He really couldn't afford to go fancying some girl now, just because of some stupid scar.
Lina crossed her arms defiantly and watched the floor. Dumbledore sighed. He looked tired, Harry thought. "Lina, I know you are upset at the moment and- "Upset? Upset? Voldemort attacks me and kills my boyfriend and I'm upset?" She laughed wildly. "This is a really nice place you've got here, you know. Very anti-Voldemort, I can tell. Nice touch with the house-elf heads. Can't … Can't I just leave and go back to the U.S.? He won't find me there and I promise I'll never tell anyone if you just let me go!" She was on the verge of tears and breathing very fast now. "You know I can't do that." Dumbledore murmured. "Well … well, you're making a mistake. I just might go into your bedrooms and kill all of you, you know! I'm a death eater, after all!" Snape stood up violently. His face was twitching with anger. "Really, Dombledore, this has gone on long enough! Can't you shut the little brat up? Her tantrum is growing tiring." Lina stammered. She stared at Snape as though she had never seen anything like him before. Dumbledore looked at Snape levelly.
"She has the right to speak." He said simply. He turned to Lina again. "You were a death eater. If you ever were one, that is. You really never followed Voldemort, did you?"
"How would you know? Or do you know everything, Headmaster, sir?" She shouted. She was shaking. Tears ran down her cheeks quite suddenly. Professor McGonagall, who had remained silent since entering, reached a hand out to her. Lina shoved it away. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" She screamed. She wheeled about hysterically. "You can't make me stare here, I won't! If I have to stay locked up in a hellhole like this, with people like that - Lina waved a hand in Snape's direction - then I'd rather have died like Mark! Like … Mark …" She gave a sob and grew quiet, swaying a little. When Dumbledore reached out to stead her, Lina began to cough horribly. Harry watched, horrified, as she doubled over into a coughing fit. It was an awful hacking noise, echoing in the silent room loud and uncontrollable. All her anger and fire had faded, she looked so ill and feeble all of a sudden. Again, Harry longed to hold her. He wanted the anger to flare up inside her again, for her to start raging again, if only she would not look so weak and vulnerable and tiny. Dumbledore held her for a moment and then gave his wand a small whirl. A teacup appeared on the dining table, filled with a strange, warm and syrupy substance. Dumbledore led the coughing girl to the table and sat her down in front of the cup.
"Drink this." He helped the liquid into her mouth, which she choked and sputtered upon for a moment. Then she took the drink into her hands and swallowed all of it needily.
Her coughs had ceased and the room was more silent than ever. Lina was very near Harry now. He half expected her to spring up and start screaming again, but she looked more tired than ever. Her hair fell in front of her face and she wouldn't lift her gaze from the cup.
For a minute, everything and everyone was still and then Dumbledore turned toward the door.
"I must be off but do make sure Lina gets some food into her and rests,won't you?" And then he was gone.
The room came alive then, Mrs. Weasley was urging Lina to eat something, but Lina shook her head. Her face was still hidden by her hair.
"If you insist then … alright, I'll show you to your bed, then. You'll be rooming with Hermione and my daughter, Ginny, their both wonderful girls. The room is very comfy too, come on …"
Harry watched as a subdued Lina followed Mrs. Weasley upstairs. Only a few minutes ago, she had seemed ready to kill them all. Now, she was just a girl who was ill and grieving the loss of her boyfriend - Mark, was it? Harry wasn't sure what to think of her, but she didn't seem capable of surviving Voldemort's wrath. She didn't seem capable of surviving anything anymore.