Disclaimer - I don't own Doctor Who or Harry Potter.
The Time Traveller.
Sarah's escape from the Tournament.
Before the year started...
Sarah nursed her head after a long hangover with a groan. Ever since she'd hit her teens, she'd been doing exactly what teenage girls liked to do; getting drunk and going to parties, typical normal things teenagers liked to do. Trouble was it left you with a terrible headache first thing in the morning.
But last night she'd been celebrating. Not for her birthday, that wouldn't be for another two weeks, and Sarah had no intention of suffering through another hangover until then. No, she'd been celebrating the creation of her time and - something.
"Oooh," she grimaced, rubbing her head though it didn't ease the feeling her brain was larger than her skull. "I'm never going to mix vodka and rum together ever again." A few moments later she chuckled, knowing she would try risky combinations later. Her old friends from the orphanage had grown daring.
The distant thought of her old friends, even through Sarah's alcohol addled brain, made her smile sadly. Ever since she'd gotten emancipated in the magical world, she hadn't really spent time with them. The alcohol acted like a time machine, and she remembered all those years she'd spent at the orphanage, a little girl with a hair ribbon tied into a bow though these days she preferred head bands and pony tails, reading a book, helping the bigger kids with their homework, but she also remembered going out with them.
They'd taught her some stuff, things she wouldn't have learnt until she was much older. They'd taught her how to defend herself from...well anything, really.
Sarah came out of her musings with the realization she could barely move in her rather large bed, her arms and legs felt as though they were made of lead, and even the hand that she'd used to massage her head had gone to sleep. Still she knew she couldn't lie in bed all day. Gritting her teeth Sarah ignored the leaden feeling throughout her body, and got up. It took her two minutes to relearn how to walk properly, but by the time she'd left the shower she'd graduated from stumbling to walking slowly. Any faster and her head would feel like a hydraulic press was squeezing it.
After a nice breakfast, Sarah checked her messages.
"Sarah, it's Tom. Just wanted to know if you wanna go out with me sometime? Anyway, if you do then give me a ring." Sarah smiled at that. Tom Peters was a nice kid from the orphanage. They'd grown up together, but back then the boy hadn't really paid any attention to anything else except his perpetual Action Man games. He'd grown up since then fortunately with age and life, but really he wasn't Sarah's type. It was clear he just wanted to get laid, and whilst Sarah wanted the same thing since it would make her feel like a normal teenager rather than a celebrity in a world she couldn't take any of her friends into it she wasn't sure if she wanted her first night to be with Tom. Sure, he was cute, but did she really want to be with him.
She kept still, idly rubbing her head as the answer machine played out. A few of the messages in her quasi-muggle home went on about new products, crap like that, but not all of them.
"Sarah, how are you feeling? I'm sorry we dared you to drink vodka mixed with...whatever it was, but Lizzie said you were seeing stars." Sarah snickered at the motherly tone in Sophia's voice, "Anyway, I was wondering, though I doubt you'd want to after last night, if you wanna come out with us in a couple of days. We're going to the cinema with some of the guys. Dunno what we're going to see, but hey its still time with us. We miss you badly since you started attending that school for the gifted, though I dunno how that massive bloke managed to fit through the door. Still don't like him now I come to think about him."
Sarah knew what Sophia was talking about. She wasn't crazy about Hagrid either. "Anyway, you're probably nursing a killer of a hangover now, so I'll see ya later. Oh, P.S, make sure you eat right, you look anorexic, girl."
Stifling a chuckle at Sophia's motherly nature, Sarah went back to the living room - where she sighed at the sight of the tropical bird waiting there with a letter clasped in its talons. She went over to the window and opened it, and the bird leapt up onto her held out forearm where she took the letter before it flew out again to rest on the safety rail on her balcony.
The letter was from her godfather. Ever since she'd rescued Sirius Black with the dubious help of Hermione Granger and the time turner, Sarah had received a dozen letters delivered with tropical birds. Ornithology wasn't Sarah's strong suit, but she did recognize the parrots when she saw them.
Sarah opened the letter and read it carefully. There wasn't anything new in the letter; Sirius was still on the run and the promises he made to her made her wonder if the man really believed it.
She'd never had a godfather before, so she wasn't sure what to expect.
Sarah Potter had always been different though outwardly she appeared so normal to the people who met her, but she wasn't normal. Sarah was an orphan, both her parents had died in mysterious circumstances. The staff at the orphanage who'd raised her since she'd been found on their doorstep with a truly hateful note giving them the basic details of who she was, and when she'd been born, but nothing else about the little girls parents so they couldn't answer the inevitable questions the child asked when she was old enough to talk about where her real parents were.
The note was so hateful in its content that it said the girl could die for all they cared, so by the time Sarah was 11 and old enough to understand the staff told her about the hateful content, something they'd kept from her for so long. Worse, they had no idea who the people who'd dumped the baby girl on their doorstep as though she were a milk bottle had even gotten hold of her; it definitely could not have been the parents, so whoever had dumped the baby had probably been saddled with Sarah.
The staff didn't like that theory one little bit because it sounded as though some well meaning person had forgotten the common courtesy of informing the persons involved, and simply gotten along with it. The Police had been informed of course, the staff had preserved the letter, but of course they hadn't found anything. How could they? The baby had been dropped in the middle of the night or in the early mornings, and despite the demand in the newspapers for information, nothing concrete came along.
Just like nothing had come from the investigation into Sarah's past to find out where her parents were and who her family was; the fact she'd been dropped on a doorstep only to end up on another with such a deeply hateful note meant she must have been given to a family with close enough ties to her parents, but the police found it impossible to grasp that someone could be so stupid to just casually come and drop a baby on a doorstep without bothering to check what that family was like. The police didn't even know the family, but they'd already gathered and grasped enough to truly despise them for abandoning an innocent child, and they were worried about the use of the word freak on the note.
So Sarah had to remain in the orphanage. There was no where else for her to go.
To the staff it was inconceivable that anyone could hate Sarah; everyone loved her, she always tried hard to be kind and giving. She would always hug someone if they needed it, and she had a ready smile for anyone, but if you looked closely you could see the sadness in her eyes, almost as though she knew about the notes contents, but she didn't. At least they thought so.
Everyone in the orphanage agreed that Sarah was smart. By the time the girl reached her third birthday, she'd learnt how to take care of herself. She could wash herself, change the bedding in her room, and when she'd learnt the basics of reading and grammar and maths, her knowledge shot through the roof. People started seeing her, a three year old girl, sitting quietly, reading books when kids her age could barely tell the differences between a fish or a cat, tell a dog from a rabbit, or a tree from a house. That was how smart she was.
The orphanage had a library built on age, so by the time Sarah had reached 3 and 2 quarters, she'd finished half of the library, and had successfully moved onto the teenage books. The books built up her imagination, allowing her to paint and draw the various scenes that she'd let play in her mind, and when she read books on science and maths, her comprehension and intellect rose. Sarah was gifted with a photographic memory, and even though she learned a great deal from each book she read, she never used her intellect to make herself noticed.
When she first attended school, book in hand though she'd quickly had to hide it from sight when she saw a bully attack another kid, who was slightly older than her, getting beaten up and called a bookworm, before his pals dumped a load of homework on the poor kids head and was told to do it all for them all. The kid had meekly nodded, and took it all.
That moment was a wake up call for Sarah; if you're smart, don't draw any attention to yourself otherwise you'll get targeted. The teachers may be adults but they can't be everywhere at once. Sarah was realistic enough to see that, and that would be a future point of contention between her and Hermione Granger. The last point was something Sarah had noticed very quickly, there hadn't been an adult patrolling nearby when the attack had happened. How could they not patrol when anything could happen to any of the students? It was ridiculous.
When she would meet Hermione Granger, a girl nearly as bright as her, but more arrogant in her ability to absorb knowledge like a sponge but would find it useless because she wouldn't learn from it, Sarah would see the girl as a version of herself who might not have realised that little life lesson; teachers were not gods, people don't like being shown up. Hermione saw it, but she never learnt it.
Sarah kept her head down in class, doing her best to go unnoticed through her school years, trying desperately to keep her level of work at average. The other kids from the orphanage who loved her like a little sister, had asked her why she wasn't working so hard, and she reminded them of the kid who'd been bullied. They grasped the fact quickly, and they said nothing about it. They never pressured her again, for which Sarah was eternally grateful for, and she agreed in return to help them with their homework when they needed it, but only help. She wasn't going to do all of it for them. But she had no idea the kids were keeping an eye on the other kids at school in case on them got it in their heads to hurt her.
They were a family, and they looked out for their own.
When Sarah was six years old, she developed her own sense of style. She alternated between wearing dresses with socks and Mary-Jane shoes, trousers in white or black. She always wore her hair long, or in a ponytail. When down it would be either crowned with a brightly colored hair ribbon tied in a bow, or a hair band.
Everyone thought the girl was innocent, and in many ways she was, but she wasn't stupid. She knew how dangerous the world was, and she did read the papers and watched the news. But she kept quiet about a lot of things, and she never gave up trying to work out what had happened to her parents.
She wondered if they hated her enough to dump her in a wonderful orphanage. If so, their plan had failed because she was happy here.
The older kids in the orphanage let her come with them whenever they went out, and they kept a close watch on her as she watched them do things as teenagers. It might have been seen as social suicide by other teens to have a small girl come with them, but the orphanage kids didn't need to worry with Sarah. She had a way of going about unnoticed.
The teens taught her some things that small girls didn't or wouldn't learn at such a young age, but Sarah took it all because she liked to learn. She learnt how to fight hand to hand after reading a story about a shop robbery, and how to hurt someone twice her size. The teenagers who taught her these skills made it clear they weren't happy teaching her any of this stuff, but she showed them the story, and told them she wasn't going into the world without at least knowing how to protect herself, and the other kids had relented quickly.
The orphanage in Richmond was not far from the House. It was said that a Victorian scientist had been experimenting with the ungodly, and had vanished, but there had been images of him once or twice over the decades. He never grew older, he was always young and wearing the same clothes of high quality.
The house had been left alone over the years because no one truly knew when the Victorian scientist would be seen again. There were rumors that the man was either a ghost, or some sorcerer, but the people who'd started and circulated those rumors were superstitious.
Naturally Sarah was intrigued. When she heard the rumors, she didn't put any stock into them. She would often walk close by the house. The local council had never been able to sell it because of all the stories and hearsay, no one was willing to demolish it unless there was another war involving aerial bombing, in which case it was hoped the building would be leveled to the ground.
That suited Sarah just fine; she was fascinated by new things, and she had no fear. When there was a day off school, Sarah put on the act of getting away from her books, and went to the house. Getting in wasn't a problem; the place had been boarded up with a fence ringed around it, but there were the occasional gaps. Sometimes the local kids would knock a board down here and there for a dare, though none of them dared go inside the actual house itself because of those same fears that had been circulating for years. It didn't take Sarah long to find a large enough hole she could squeeze through, but she did a careful circuit around the fence in case somebody came and boarded the fence up again without her knowledge. To her relief, she found a couple more holes in the wall.
Sarah turned back to the house. Time hadn't been kind to the place; there were plants overgrowing in the garden, moss and vines were growing all over the walls, and the thin glass windows had numerous holes from numerous stones being thrown through them from the number of the daring kids over the years.
None of that mattered to Sarah, and so she approached the house cautiously but she wasn't afraid. There was something about the place that was calling to her, like it was destiny.
The inside of the house was well furnished in Sarah's eyes, typically Victorian with portraits and ornaments on the walls and tables. Some of the chairs had dustsheets on them to prevent the decades of grime and dust from damaging any of the furniture, and great cobwebs hung down from the walls. Sarah grimaced, and gingerly stepped to the sides of the walls to avoid them.
She explored the house, upstairs first so she could learn more about the person who'd lived here. She found a great bedroom with simpler servants quarters nearby. Sarah searched through the furniture in case there was a diary, and she kept her ears open in case there was a cat prowling about, or someone else had summoned the courage to do what she was doing.
She didn't find much on the upper floor of the house, and she had to use her torch whilst keeping her spare and batteries close by to navigate safely. Now Sarah didn't believe those crappy stories about ghosts, but even she knew the signs of a haunted house. Whoever the man who owned this place and what had happened to him, Sarah wasn't convinced he was dead. The sightings of him were too widespread for that, but this house didn't seem cold.
When Sarah finished her explorations of the upper floor, disappointed from not finding out what had drawn her to the house, she started exploring the downstairs area. There wasn't much; a living room, a salon, a dining room followed by a kitchen, and a pantry. Sarah noticed the unusual collection of clocks and other time related books, papers, and artworks on the wall, and she paused to examine one or two of them before she went on with her visit. There was nothing in that collection to interest her, but she made a mental note to take some of them when she left the house. But the owners clear obsession, or near obsession of time if that was the case, intrigued her. It also made her wonder if the stories about him being a ghost or some kind of sorcerer were misinterpreted.
When she entered the dusty laboratory, Sarah thought she'd died and gone to heaven. She had checked the upstairs rooms first to partly hold back the urge to go looking for the laboratory; Sarah had learnt enough about the house's owner to know he'd been a scientist, so she wasn't surprised by the labs existence. In fact, she'd been determined to visit it. She couldn't work out why no one had bothered to break into the lab in decades if she could do it in a matter of seconds, but she suspected it was all down to fear.
Sarah carefully walked around the lab, running her fingers over the lathes and drills, and the jars full of chemicals, and the tools on the walls. But two things caught Sarah's attention; a small stack of books and a lead box.
Sarah walked over to the books, took one from the bottom and opened it. What she would read inside the book changed her life forever.
Sarah put the letter with the others on her desk, and she took out a fresh piece of paper to compose the return letter asking him to take care of himself and not to do anything stupid, she knew she was guilt tripping him with the reminder of how his anger had taken hold of his mind and made him go after Pettigrew without considering the consequences - Sirius had commented in one of her previous letters that she sounded like her mother, she'd shot back that thanks to his carelessness she'd almost been dumped with relatives who clearly hated her enough to just abandon her, familial ties be damned.
Sirius had had no retort for that. Sarah knew she was a bit unfair towards her godfather, but she didn't really care. Still the man had been through a lot without her adding to his guilt.
Hogwarts. Months later.
"Sarah Potter." Dumbledore called, a piece of parchment held in one hand as he called her name. Silence filled the hall, before the students started talking amongst themselves. To the girl in question, it was like hearing the buzzing of bees. Really angry bees. Sarah sat paralyzed in her seat, breathing hard. No, no this couldn't be happening.
It should have been expected. Of course, a year at Hogwarts was always going to be dangerous for her, but how the hell did someone get her name entered in the Triwizard Tournament?
When Dumbledore called her name again, Sarah looked panic stricken. Why, why was it every time a new year at this fucked up school started, something always happened to her? Sarah mustered her courage, and got out of her chair. Panic transmuted into anger. No, not anger. Fury. No, not fury.
Rage.
Her magic, in tune with her emotional state, darkened the hall and silenced the sounds of the students as her hair seemed to crackle and fizz with electricity as her anger spiked. Slowly, she walked up to the head table, and before Dumbledore could speak, she said clearly. "If I find that you had something to do with this, I will carry out the threat I have warned you about for the last three years."
Dumbledore didn't need to ask for a reminder about the threat. He knew it well enough, and what's more there was nothing he could do about it. Ever since Sarah had entered the magical world, she'd discovered how much of her life had been manipulated by the meddling old man. She'd accumulated a massive amount of information already, most of it from the goblins and the gnomes since she had accounts with both. She always held it over Dumbledore whenever the old man tried to become a bit too meddlesome.
McGonagall opened her mouth to rebuke Sarah, but the girl just turned and walked to the anteroom.
The moment she entered she saw the other three champions.
Viktor Krum, the Quidditch pro, was scowling at nothing - Sarah may not have liked pranks, but she did have a sense of humour, and Krum could certainly use a smile. It would've made him more handsome.
Cedric Diggory, the Hogwarts champion, was looking at her in puzzlement but he didn't say anything. The only champion to speak to her was the Beauxbatons champion.
"Vat is it," Fleur Delacour asked her. "Do zey vant something in ve hall?"
She thought Sarah was a messenger girl. The girl in question had no idea how it worked in France, but Dumbledore would be more likely to come into the anteroom himself or send one of his other teachers. Before she could reply, the adults came in.
Sarah stood to the side as the teachers and Crouch and Bagman went on with their debate before it was decided she would have to participate in the tournament. Adult or not.
For the next few days, Sarah worked on trying to find a way of getting out the tournament, and keeping away from the other students. Her life at Hogwarts had become a living hell; students were cursing her in the corridors, the teachers had started showing their true colours, and worse her own house thought she was a Dark Lady in training, courtesy of the rumors spread by one Ron Weasley. Honest, she didn't know where he got his imagination.
Sarah had managed to find refuge in a few places in the castle. The kitchens with the house elves, who genuinely did not care one little bit if she was a champion or not, though Dobby might just look at her awe struck once or twice, and the room of requirement. In many ways that room reminded her of her Time and space machine.
The thought of her time machine made Sarah pout sadly. She'd been growing the ship for a long time, using knowledge of the future to develop it and make it perfect. It was her centre during the months she was away from Hogwarts. Being separated from the ship at a time like this made her ache for the chance to find out who'd put her name in the goblet of fire.
One thing had come out of her self imposed isolation, well two things. Firstly, she'd checked the anteroom the goblet had been moved to before the champions names were pulled out, and she'd discovered that the age line didn't exist. Dumbledore had instead cast a ward that prevented any kind of trickery, so besides that anyone could put their names inside the goblet before being repelled like magnetic poles.
Also, she'd learnt that the Triwizard magical contract had a loophole; in the past some of the champions had been incredibly young, even a couple of years younger than Sarah was now, so the loophole had been drawn up to allow the magical guardians of the children four hours to recant their place as champion.
That had been why Dumbledore had been twinkling his eyes with that knowing and triumphant smile on his face. He'd known about the loophole just like he'd been aware of her emancipation, the shield she'd put up that he hadn't managed to pierce had failed her this time and he'd known it.
The second thing was what the first task was.
Sarah had been walking through the grounds alone. She hadn't been going to any of the classes after the last few weeks since the first week where the students would confront her with curses and rude names, and the teachers contempt for her. It made no difference to her if she suddenly failed at school in the magical world; she had access to a time machine, she could slip back and continue with her non-magical education outside Dumbledore's control. Sarah had been looking for adequate back doors to leave Hogwarts in case the school was either too dangerous or Dumbledore and his staff were not what they were cracked up to be when they taught her their craft. Sarah knew her celebrity status would give Hogwarts a black mark if she left the school, but it would serve them right if she left the magical world.
Oh, the idiots had no idea her memories for leaving the school were mounting. Each day she would collect them, and put them in a little chest. She didn't bother marking them, the contents alone would speak for themselves.
After the last session, Sarah decided to go for a walk around the ground with a perception filter necklace around her neck to avoid the idiot students hunting her down because they were so bored - she'd already cursed Malfoy, Weasley, the Weasley twins, Ginny Weasley, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbot and that moron Finch-Fletchley because of those badges. She didn't care what they said, she was just sad the students would not listen to her denials she'd put her name in the goblet. She simply lost her temper.
Sarah walked slowly through the grounds, listening to the sounds of the nearby Forest. The grounds were one of the few joys she had at the school, disagreeing with Hagrid's claim she would enjoy her time at the school.
Just like so many other things. Sarah craned her head up to look up at the darkening sky, and god the stars were beautiful. They were gleaming like diamonds illuminated on a gleaming velvet of black or midnight blue. She'd dreamt of exploring them for years since her research into time travel showed her the key to the stars.
Thanks to the time and space machine Sarah had already travelled into the past and into the future, but she wanted to see so much more in her life, so much more. She wanted to walk on new planets, meet people from Earth in the future, but right now she was chained to this wretched school.
The roar interrupted her thoughts.
Sarah's head shot up as she looked around. The roar was close, too close. Oh please, Hagrid, not another monster. Honestly, she was pleased she'd dropped Care of Magical creatures when Hagrid had taken the class after she'd found out he was teaching it, though she'd helped stop the Ministry from offing that Hippogriff to humiliate Malfoy and his ponce of a father.
Standing up, Sarah walked along the path to where the roar came from. She knew she should just walk back to the castle, but Hogwarts wasn't a place where monsters usually hung around, but with its history...Her eyes shot open when she came to a clearing bordered with thick trees. Massive cages shaking and creaking with jets of flames shooting through them as massive shapes crashed against the bars holding the dragons prisoner.
Dragons!
Sarah closed her eyes with a groan. Oh no.
"Stupid humans!" One of the dragons roared furiously, throwing itself against the bars of its cage to emphasize the rage it was feeling. Sarah blinked. How could she understand the dragon? In fact, how could she understand all of them?
Another dragon joined in, a massive creature with terrifying spikes at the end of its tail. "How dare you touch my children! Harm my children, and I will roast you alive in your flesh!"
They were female dragons. Mother dragons. Nesting dragons. Sarah swallowed. She'd read enough about dragons to know nesting mother dragons were amongst the most dangerous dragons alive, but it was obvious why they were here. They were for the first task, she'd learnt enough about the tournament to know magical creatures of the dangerous variety were used for the first task.
But something didn't make sense. How could she understand them? If she heard the dragon, then maybe she would be able to talk to them when she went up against one of them. It was a possibility, but Sarah had no intentions of going into the first task without a few back up plans.
The revelations of the dragons focused Sarah for the next few weeks, and with the help from the house elves she managed to train herself in spells not in the books. House elf magic was more free than wand based magic, and despite some of the elves caution in teaching her how to use her power without a wand, Sarah rose to the challenge. Using her powers like a house elf made her feel like a person who was proud of herself. Besides, she was enjoying the lessons - they hadn't half exasperated Dumbledore during the wand weighing ceremony, she'd ignored the detentions she'd gotten from that.
For the house elves teaching a witch their brand of magic was almost seen as blasphemy, but being house elves they'd obeyed the will of the witch without question. Thanks to them, she was able to pop from one place to another - take that Hermione! - and use her magic and bend it to her will.
But like everyone else Sarah needed a break, and uncaring about the consequences she went to Hogsmeade. The villagers went along with their daily business, and they didn't pay any attention to the young girl in the midst, protected by her perception necklace. Sarah honestly had no idea what would've happened if she'd gone without the necklace, but the villagers couldn't do anything. She wasn't really popular right now. Rita Skeeters' articles hadn't helped a bit.
Finally she came to a pub called the Hog's head. It looked dilapidated compared to the Three Broomsticks in the village and the other shops. But it looked quieter compared to the rest of the village, it just looked rough. Sarah shrugged and went through the doors, turning the necklace off as she walked inside. The place was certainly colder and dustier than the Three Broomsticks, and there was no buxom barmaid here, just an old man who looked familiar.
"What're you doing here, girl?" The barman asked her as she approached. Sarah frowned at him. She was naturally disdainful of adults because you knew nothing about them and what they might want. In the muggle world, men old enough to be fathers kidnapped girls and raped them, in the magical world it was more terrifying. With spells compelling you to do things, wizards could make girls do anything.
Sarah knew she was in the metaphorical lions den, but she wasn't going to back out just yet. Stupid, yeah but she wanted to get away from Hogwarts, where the students were mollycoddled all day long.
"Getting away from Hogwarts for an hour or two. Butterbeer, please." She dropped a couple of galleons on the counter - one to pay for the drink, the other to shut him up. The bartender snorted with a quirk of the lips that appeared as a smile, lifting a bottle of butterbeer from under the counter. Sarah eyed the layer of dust on the glass dubiously. The man saw her look, and he wiped the dust with an equally grimy duster before handing it to her. He watched as she opened the bottle and took a slow sip. "You look familiar," he said conversationally.
Sarah stilled.
He went on. "You remind me of a girl who'd been here before, only she was wrapped in a green cloak."
Sarah frowned, taking another sip from the bottle. Despite the dust along the sides it was quite tasty. "What color was her hair?" She believed the bartender was mistaking her for Lily Potter since everybody claimed Sarah resembled her despite her black hair. She was surprised the barman replied, "Like yours."
Sarah swallowed. "When was this?"
The bartender glanced up at the ceiling, scratching his head. "Nearly...15 years ago." Her stomach sank.
"Well, I'm 14 now, the arithmetic is obvious." Still Sarah frowned. "She looked like me?"
"Yeah, she had a similar lightning...shaped...scar...on her forehead," the bartender said, trailing off as he realised who she was. Sarah bit her lip. "You're Sarah Potter?"
Sarah looked down. "Yeah, I am." She raised her head defiantly, daring the man to say something stupid to her though inwardly her stomach and intestines had turned into butterflies.
The bartender snorted, much to her surprise. "It's okay, lass. Its just I don't get that many celebrities in my humble abode." He ignored the snort that came from Sarah. Humble indeed. "Anyway, what brings you here? What's my idiot of a manipulative brother done this time?"
"Manipulative brother?" She repeated before taking a proper look at the man, his height, the beard... "You're Albus Dumbledore's brother?"
She should have figured it out when she'd come inside the pub, it was so obvious. The man saw the obvious panic on her face, and did his best to reassure her. "Its okay, I won't tell him you're here-"
"You won't?" Sarah replied. "Why? Your brother enjoys meddling in my life. Why would you help me, and why should I trust you?"
"Because I can't stand it when he pokes his long nose into business not his," he replied before holding out a dirty hand. "Aberforth Dumbledore, at your service." He gave a rather lousy bow. "Pleasure," Sarah replied, trying to hold back the grimace for touching the dirty hand she was presented with.
Aberforth picked up the cloth and started wiping glasses in front of Sarah, who was wondering if there was any such thing as health and safety in the magical world. If there was, this place would've been closed down years ago. She wondered if there were rats nearby, but she didn't dare lean over the counter. There might be cockroaches.
"So what brings you down here?" Aberforth's question broke through her thoughts, and Sarah shrugged. "I wanted to get away from the castle. I don't want to talk ill of your brother, but it sounds like you don't like him," she added with a curious gaze.
Indeed it sounded like that to Sarah, those comments about him being a manipulative idiot had been delivered bitterly. Sarah didn't give a monkeys what secrets the Dumbledore family had, but she was intrigued nonetheless by the seeming lack of a brotherly relationship between the two men.
"I don't, and its okay," Aberforth replied simply, keeping one eye on her as he idly wiped the mug. He'd wiped it so much but it was incredibly dirty. More dirty than it had been before. Sarah wondered if he should be bothering keeping the pretense of cleaning when he was so bad at it.
"Do you mind if I ask you something?"
Sarah put her bottle down to give the man her undivided attention. "Sure."
"Is it true you really piss him off? I've heard stories coming from the school since you arrived." The look on Aberforth's face looked like he was holding back the urge to laugh. Really laugh.
"Didn't even know those stories existed," Sarah replied with a grin. "But yeah, your brother tries to send me to these relatives of mine each year. He never seems to learn from the last time he tried that. I also think he had a hand in choosing what house I should be in at the castle."
Aberforth's face looked thoughtful but not totally surprised by that. "Aye, that doesn't surprise me."
"It doesn't?"
Aberforth shook his head. "No. My brother has an uncontrollable urge to manipulate the lives of everyone around him. He seems to believe life and the wizarding world are things to manipulate like the pieces on a chessboard. I've also heard stories from teenagers who come into the village who don't seem to properly fit in their houses. What house had you planned to go into?"
To say Aberforth was surprised to see the indifferent shrug from Sarah was an understatement. Most kids who attended Hogwarts were excited, and had planned their futures out along the way.
"I'd liked the look of Ravenclaw back then but how I see they're a bunch of bullies. I didn't really want to come to Hogwarts in the first place, but I wanted to learn more about my history. But the hat barely touched my head when it shouted Gryffindor, but I don't fit in with that house, and I've got no real friends. The only acquaintance I'd had, Hermione Granger, backed off from me, not that I care now." Sarah replied though she wasn't sure why she was opening up to Aberforth. He seemed like a good listener.
He sighed. "That sounds like my brother, telling people who they can be friends with, he was the same as a kid, the nosy bugger. I think he put you into Gryffindor so then you'd look up to him whilst the people in that house spy and report on you to their hero," he sneered the last word. Sarah wasn't surprised by that, she'd often suspected some of the Gryffindors who'd tried to ask her questions and get her to open up more to her and the house were only doing it because of outside prodding.
Aberforth looked away. "Many people believe the castle has gone down hill since my brother became a teacher, but personally I think it started a long time before that point."
Sarah frowned at him as she reached over for her bottle. "What do you mean?"
"When I attended Hogwarts, there were school rivalries between the houses, but that was normal. It's not like it is now. When I went there, all the rivalries were friendly, competitive. After Albus left, well you can imagine can't you?"
"You think your brother had something to do with the wedges between the houses?" Sarah deduced.
All the houses had been stereotyped a long time ago, but if the relationship between them had been anything like it was now with the Founders then how the hell could they have established Hogwarts?
"Yes," Aberforth's lack of hesitation concerned Sarah. "Don't ask me why, but he always seems to have some kind of plan. Don't ask me why such a plan would turn harmless competition between students into cursing enemies that would hex first and ask questions later. Be careful, lass."
Sarah smiled. By the time she left, she'd almost forgotten the surprise Aberforth had dropped on her head about seeing a girl with the same scar on her forehead.
The sight of Sarah wearing a simple outfit in black waiting for them by the quarry the First task would be held surprised the students, the teachers and the champions. It had been a while since they'd seen the girl who'd gone into a self imposed isolation away from the students, unfortunately stoking the rumors like a blacksmith's fire that she was a dark lady.
Sarah kept away from the others, only listening as Ludo Bagman explained the tasks. A golden egg, she had to retrieve a golden egg from a dragon? Why don't they send us on a trip to Chernobyl? She thought irritably, wishing she could drop these idiots in the centre of the infamous nuclear disaster. See how they did when not even their precious magic could protect them from radiation sickness.
Even with her ability to understand their language, Sarah didn't want to take risks with this kind of magical creature. The organisers...They were idiots. No one if they'd bothered to look at Sarah would've seen the sadness and the contempt on her face. Sarah was sad because the dragons were being tricked. She'd often visited the dragons though she hadn't worked up the courage to speak to them.
She was certain her idea would work, it was logical after all if she could listen and understand the dragon's language then she could speak it. Contemptuous because the magical world was so stupid it never considered the possibility dragons were sentient beings. She was also contemptuous of the champions; did they really want all this? Couldn't they achieve something some other time when they weren't so close to being hurt?
Sarah ignored the champions and Bagman until the choosing of the dragons, and she stepped past everyone and stuck her hand inside the bag, anything to get it over and done with. Sarah ignored the remarks from Fleur Delacour, and pulled out the statue of the Hungarian horntail, the big black dragon.
Bagman commented it was the worst dragon of the lot.
Sarah glared at him.
The dragon was even bigger up close. Sarah swallowed hard to hide her fear of the massive creature. Her view of the dragons had been screened with the massive cages that stopped her from getting a good idea of their shapes and sizes, besides it had been dark at night. The black dragon certainly lived up to its name, and its spiked tail drew most of her attention. It flicked to and fro like the tail of a giant cat. It's eyes were catlike, too, and they narrowed at the sight of the tiny girl walking closer to it and the nest.
The dragon roared, but Sarah could understand what it was saying. "Puny little human. Learn from this lesson my children, no human can be trusted if they chain you to the ground in an uncomfortable nest and starve you."
Sarah's sympathy for the dragon soared. The dragon's remarks, she put those out of her mind; she agreed with them to a point, and she hoped she could prove to the dragon not all humans were selfish, two dimensional idiots.
She drew her wand and praying this worked, she enhanced her voice and spoke to the dragon. Unknown to her, she was speaking in parseltongue. For some reason the language allowed you to communicate with every reptilian creature.
"I'm truly sorry for what's happened to you."
To say the dragon and the crowd was surprised by her unexpected move, some of them had expected her to run and hide like a cowardly little girl at the sight of the huge beast, was an understatement.
Someone shouted. "You see! She's dark, she's speaking in parseltongue like in second year."
The dragon roared in the direction of Ronald Weasley, who sat back cowering in fear. Sarah hid her chuckle behind her hand as the words behind the roar entered her mind. "Silence, you foul, disgusting little human! How dare you interrupt the speaker!" The dragon turned her head over to Sarah, who suddenly stopped laughing. "You speak my language, young one?" The dragon asked in a softer, kinder voice.
"I do. I'm not aware of the change, to me you're speaking my language. No offense." Sarah added quickly; after the way she'd been treated, the dragon probably wouldn't want to know when they were speaking together, all Sarah could hear was english. But the dragon took it with surprising mildness.
"Why am I chained? Why was my nest tampered with and brought here?" The pain in the dragon's voice made Sarah want to curse the idiots behind this tournament. Could they not see the dragons were proud, noble and sentient beings?
"I don't know, and I don't blame you for being angry with them," Sarah bit her lip, and she no longer hesitated in holding back the sadness in her own voice. Something the dragon noticed right away. Female dragons, especially the mother dragons, doted on their young. Even unrelated females adored the offspring of other dragons. To them, a child in pain was torture. They never dared harm children.
The horntail knew the boy who'd cursed the Chinese dragon in the eye had caused her nothing but grief and misery despite the reassurances given that it wasn't her fault the spell had made her trample the nest. The horntail had been dreading her part, she'd expected something similar and had prepared herself to kill the human if it tried to harm her nest intentionally or not. There was a good reason her breed was feared after all, but Sarah had surprised her. She'd never imagined a human who was kind, seemingly friendly, and could speak in their language.
The dragon tried moving closer to Sarah but the chains stopped her halfway, and the movement startled the girl, causing her to step back in fear for her life.
"Do not be afraid of me, young one," There was noticeable hurt in the dragon's voice, forcing Sarah to crane her neck to gaze upwards into the dragon's eyes. For a long time the two of them stared at one another.
"You have been hurt badly, young one. Your eyes speak of sadness spanning a long time," The dragon said finally before cocking her head again curiously. "But you have also found good things in your life as well."
Sarah nodded, thinking about the time and space machine, the years she'd spent at the orphanage learning new things, and her friends. Her smile faded as she remembered her opposite life, here at Hogwarts where she was seen as a celebrity first and not a quiet girl who just wanted peace and friends in her life, but had an annoying headmaster, irritating and irrational house and year mates who tried to hurt her and expecting her to take it each time.
"What is your name, young one?" The dragon asked making Sarah think the dragon could see the pain in her eyes, and she was glad for the change of subject. The pain she could see, the anger, the righteous rage the dragon felt that Sarah could see in the way she moved about the way she and her kind had been treated by the hubris of the wizards, it made Sarah want to cry.
"Sarah. My name is Sarah Potter. I was brought into this tournament because of outside intervention; if I had had my way then I wouldn't be in this pit, let alone the school." Sarah shut her mouth, it hadn't been her intention to rant, but she was tired of all the rubbish that happened to her. If anyone other than Sirius had gone through anything like this, it was the dragon infront of her.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to rant," Sarah apologised sheepishly. "It's nice to meet you."
She didn't dare reveal the fact she'd already known and seen the dragon, heard her speak.
The dragon bowed her head in a show of respect, shocking the already stunned crowd in the stands. "It is...nice to meet you too, Sarah Potter. My name is Thusa. Why are you here, and what am I doing here with my brethren?"
Sarah knew she had to be careful with this one. If she was blunt, the dragon would forget her friendliness and simply kill her. Choosing her words carefully, Sarah spoke, "The people who organised this tournament...They had a fake egg placed in your clutch, a clue for the next phase of the tournament. How many eggs did you have already?" Smoke had started pouring from Thusa's nostrils as the dragon's already frayed temper started to reach levels where the dragon would unthinkingly unleash her deadly arsenal on any being foolish enough to be too close. At that moment, that being was Sarah.
Sarah, thankfully, recognised the signs at once, and hurriedly added, "Go to your clutch and see if I am lying." She knew challenging a dragon was suicide on her part, but it was all she had. Words would only prove her greatest weapon once the dragon realised the human girl was telling the truth, but if she saw the evidence, she'd believe the human girl. If she was lying...
The dragon went back to her clutch, her tail swinging dangerously close to Sarah as she turned and making the girl gasp with fright and bend down out of the way, the deadly spikes whistling through the air. Sarah bit her lip to yell a protest, Thusa was pissed off enough as it was without her added to it.
Thusa studied her nest. Like all mother dragons, she had intimate knowledge of the dragons about to be born from their eggs, and she knew the sex and size of the individual infants thanks to the unique shape and scents of each egg. It was only human ignorance that made them think all dragons looked alike, but really all creatures had their own physical identity, unique to their own persons.
Quietly, though with a low growl, Thusa counted the eggs. She'd birthed ten eggs, and yet there was an eleventh; a bright gold egg. She'd known the nest had been tampered with, but she hadn't expected this blasphemy. She'd merely thought the nest had been moved, and her eggs separated from her protection. Thusa wasn't stupid when she examined the egg, its craftsmanship spoke of only one race.
Goblins.
Thusa threw her head back, scaring the crowd with her loud, prolonged roar of rage. If they'd been empathic, they would've felt the rage from her massive form, but humans lacked empathy, or they ignored it. Holding back her rage after letting it loose that her nest had been tampered with and perverted by human and goblin, Thusa turned back to face Sarah. If she hadn't been sentient and had only just noticed the egg, she could and would have lashed out, breathed flames powerful enough to break through the puny shield spells the wizards believed would save them from her wrath.
But Thusa, like all dragons, was highly intelligent, and sentient. She remembered clearly what the girl, this tiny and clearly frightened girl, had said about this egg being important to the next phase of the tournament. Silently she bent down, and gently used two of her front talons to pick the egg up before moving slightly awkwardly but carefully, mindful of her remaining eggs.
Something occurred to her when she reached the tiny form of the witch, something that made Thusa pause before she dropped the egg into the witch's outstretched and waiting hands. "You do not seem to want to participate in this travesty, Sarah. I can see it in the way your body moves. You have thought of a way to leave." She observed, cocking her massive head. The sun was gleaming on her scales.
Sarah chuckled at the dragon's observational skills. "You're right. I've found a way around it. You see, the magical object that put me in this tournament was confounded into thinking I was from a different school and slightly older than I am now. It is a binding magical contract, but the contract only affects the person who PUT my name into the goblet of fire. By my leaving after today, after this task, they're going to lose their magic. I can't think of something more horrifying for a witch or wizard, can you?"
The dragon suddenly roared, terrifying the spectators, but Sarah watched in surprise. The roaring wasn't roaring at all though she knew if she didn't have the power to understand the dragon.
Thusa wasn't roaring, she was laughing.
"Oh, I like you Sarah, oh that is brilliant. You've put a lot of thought into this, but be careful," the dragon's voice changed ominously to serious. "I do not mean to offend your brethren despite your obvious contempt for them, but they do not give up." With that, Thusa dropped the egg into Sarah's outstretched hand. "Thank you and you didn't offend me, the people in this world are idiots," Sarah smiled up at Thusa, letting the dragon bow her head in acknowledgement, but she didn't leave. She had something else to do.
"Thusa, I know you and the other dragons have been starved. Can you speak to the other mother dragons and let them know I'll free them so they can have a feast, and no its not me!" Sarah added quickly.
The dragon was amused rather than annoyed however, and nodded, and sent the message to the other dragons. Feeling the other mother's joy and excitement ringing in the air, Thusa was about to ask Sarah how she was going to free them.
"I haven't done this before," Sarah remarked sheepishly as she clicked her fingers, and at once the chains binding the dragon where she was disappeared. Thusa roared happily as the crowd screamed when they realised what Sarah had just done, the sound carrying over to the other dragons nearby to let them know this wasn't a deception. The dragon's joy was boundless as she took off into the air, wings flapping madly, and she roared in happiness and delight of just being free from captivity. She did a complete circuit of the arena enjoying seeing the fear on everyone's faces with her sharp, eagle like vision but keeping well out of range of their spellfire, and then landed gracefully. It amazed Sarah with just how light footed such a massive creature was, though she could and should possibly keep her distance when she brought the others here.
"Call to the others, tell them to come back here, and tell them I am their friend."
Thusa lifted her head and again she sent a message, just as Sarah clicked her fingers again, this time focusing on more than one chain thanks to her studies in house elf magic. Up in the stands, the spectators looked on in horror as the other dragons came roaring before swooping down into the arena, fully expecting their savior to be killed in seconds.
The fact she was their savior again never entered their minds, nor did it occur to them that the horntail had had the time and the opportunity to kill Sarah effortlessly.
The girl in question was oblivious to their fear as she climbed a few boulders. She was just standing there was the dragons landed with the same effortless grace Thusa had shown earlier when she'd been freed. Silently she closed her eyes, focused on a set of images and concentrated on them, and she clicked her fingers. Unknown to Sarah at the time, TARDIS, her time and space machine had picked up on her mistress's magical command, and the sentience behind the TARDIS allowed her to help her mistress.
The TARDIS was designed to be intelligent, not dangerously intelligent beyond the organic sentience it was capable of. In many ways the timeship was an extension, and evolution, of Sarah's own mind and being, and she was forever linked to her mistress. When Sarah had released the dragons, the TARDIS had helped, and now she was helping now with this effortless task.
The spectators were wondering if their eyes were deceiving them. Yes, that must be it. The arena had been empty, then it had been filled with one massive dragon with a terrible tail, and one witch. Then, as though they'd blinked, the arena wasn't sporting one dragon, but three others. The same dragons who'd met the previous champions. Their shock was because the dragons and the single, tiny figure of Sarah Potter, weren't the only living things in the arena anymore. No sir. No, now there were cows, sheep and pigs milling about, making a lot of noise that spoke volumes of their confusion, which quickly changed to panic at the sight of the hungry dragons.
Sarah watched with a slightly queasy expression as the dragons leapt onto the animals she'd summoned, swearing off meat at once when she heard the panicked squeals and moos from the animals being torn apart so quickly and efficiently. Sarah licked her lips and tried to close it all off, not daring to cast a spell to blacken the environment and shut out the sounds of the slaughter in case Thusa wanted to speak to her again. She just watched, feeling more than a bit sick.
The Chinese fireball gratefully crunched down hard on a live, struggling pig. She'd been in a terrible temper since her turn in the tournament, with the disgusting little human hitting her in the eye with a curse, making her stumble and kill some of her eggs. For a dragon mother to kill its own offspring...it was a grave disgrace.
She burped, and looked sheepishly, for a dragon, at the human who'd freed her. "I apologise young Sarah for my rudeness," The dragon apologised with a thick Chinese accent, hardly surprising since she did come from China.
Sarah waved the apology aside. "It's alright, I'm just glad you're eating okay. Is there enough?" From what she knew of animals, they needed a specific amount of food to survive, and Sarah had no idea what the needs of a dragon were.
"For now," the Welsh green replied this time, her voice indicating she'd been far from happy with the judges decision to postpone their food. "We'll be feeding again soon."
"Well, I'd better be going," Sarah said finally, picking up the golden egg. "It was nice to meet you all, and I hope your children are happy with such noble beings such as you as mothers."
Sarah had just turned away when Thusa spoke for the first time since the first meal she hadn't had in a while had been delivered to her like a delivery person bringing a pizza box to the door. "Sarah," the dragons waited, suddenly grave as Sarah turned around, hearing the change in the dragon's tone at once. "Be careful," Thusa said before Sarah could ask what the problem was. "Your song is ending."
"What do you mean?" Was her blood turning to ice? Sarah mused to herself. To those watching and noticing, the change in her body language was obvious, as was the sudden frown of dread on her face.
"Something will be taken from you, something precious before something just as precious is given to you...and then, he will burst into flames with your ending," The dragon said, and Sarah could hear the strain in Thusa's voice as she tried to look into the future before finishing up with the final word.
Sarah felt as though her insides had turned to ice. Your song is ending, Thusa had said. She didn't like the sound of that. She looked between the dragons, noting their uneasiness. They could see it too, but they had no further clue what the prophecy meant. Prophecy. Sarah didn't believe the future was written in stone.
Okay so it was in some shape or form; the humans leaving Earth in factions, leaving the planet to the two groups who would degenerate, and come to call themselves Eloi and Morlock, but she didn't believe in vague prophecies like this, but there was something...sudden and sharp, cold about what Thusa said. The dragon wasn't as cryptic as a centaur, she wasn't as selective with her wording as Trelawney, but she was still unclear about the meaning of what she'd just imparted to Sarah.
She ran the words through her mind; something will be taken from you, something precious before something just as precious is given to you...That didn't make sense. But the last bit, he will burst into flames, she knew only one person who was a major threat to her who had wanted her dead for a long time since before she'd been born.
Lord Voldemort. Dumbledore didn't count, the old wizard was just a meddlesome old fool. The threat from Voldemort, the shadowy one, was more frightening than Dumbledore.
Voldemort was coming for her, and if Thusa was right, she would die taking him with her. Or was it really that simple?
Sarah nodded shakily, and then walked away. She didn't notice the clear sadness of the dragons as they watched as this saintly and kind hearted girl walk off, the shadows hanging over her shoulders increasing their weights on her young form. It angered the dragons that humans constantly hurt their own young by fighting, but there was nothing they could do. This was Sarah's fight, but they would remember her for the kindness she'd bestowed on them.
Up in the stands, everyone had seen the sudden sadness in Sarah's posture as she left the arena, and they wondered what the dragons had told her. They saw, but didn't recognise the sadness in the dragon's bodies.
Numb with shock, Sarah allowed herself to be lead by Madam Pomfrey into the medical tent. She barely listened as the irritating woman bustled about, asking her questions and checking her over with spells.
The other champions of the Triwizard tournament kept a respectful silence. Their initial anger of this slip of a girl stealing their thunder in the tasks had disappeared into awe when they'd watched Sarah speak to the dragon, letting it free and bringing the others into the arena before bringing them tons of meat to eat. To do that without fear, she was tiny! She looked as though a gust of wind could knock her off her feet. Instead, she'd gone into the task, and instead of casting spells, she'd simply...spoken to the dragon. On top of that, she'd freed it, the dragon had given her the egg, she'd freed the other dragons and gave them food!
And she had done it all without getting a burn or a scratch. She'd beaten them by a wide margin, but right now she was just sitting there silently, staring into space absently. It made them slightly nervous, and like the astonished spectators the champions wondered what the dragons had told her. Judging from the way she was, it must be terrible, but she wasn't telling anyone.
And it was their own fault.
Fleur Delacour watched the girl. She'd been so angry and put out that a girl a few years younger than herself had taken part in the tournament, but now she'd witnessed her in action, Sarah Potter she realised was her number one opponent.
Unfortunately for Fleur, Sarah didn't care about competition. The dragon's prophecy was fixed firmly in her present train of thought, and the last thing on her mind was another second in the purgatory that was Hogwarts, and spending another moment of her time in the presence of these arrogant fools. She'd learnt that Viktor Krum had cursed the dragon he'd been set with in the eye, causing her to stumble and crush half her eggs; the callous disregard for life made Sarah disgusted with the sight of the scowling teenager, and it made her despise the wizarding world more than she did. Added to that, a stuck up French Veela, from the way she'd acted towards her - she'd heard the rumors - and the pretty boy of Hogwarts himself being close by didn't make her feel one hundred percent happy.
Oh, joy she thought when Dumbledore and some of the teachers walked in, Sarah idly noticed a few of her housemates behind them. By their expressions, they expected her to forgive them. Well, they were in for a rude awakening. Besides she didn't really give a damn about the house, she was just surprised by how fast they'd turned on her.
Though she shouldn't have been. Gryffindors were not noted for their common sense.
Sarah didn't say a word as the headmaster approached, in fact she barely gave any hint she was aware of the presence of him and the others. She had too much on her mind. She'd long suspected Hogwarts of being below standards of safety, this latest incident clinched it. But the dragon's prophecy had worried her because it sounded familiar.
Something will be taken, Thusa had said, but what did that mean? Something important, like maybe an eye or something?
Sarah shrugged with the realisation she was putting too much thought into what the dragon had said; she'd worry about that later when the time came, but she would take precautions, though she wondered if it would ever be enough. She was just as interested in the bits that came after.
"Sarah?"
Sarah realised that Dumbledore had spoken to her, and judging from the expressions of those around him, they were clearly worried for her mental state. Their judgmental attitudes sickened and disappointed Sarah, but she guessed she shouldn't have been all that surprised. This kind of thing had followed her around the magical world for a long time already.
"What?" She asked; it occurred to her this was the first time she'd had the beginnings of a conversation with another human being. She put her head between her legs. "Well, if you're going to say something, get on with it already," she said impatiently when no-one spoke. Her nerves had been rubbed raw recently, she knew nothing good would happen with any more metaphorical poking.
"I must say that was a strange tactic, speaking to a dragon. I never imagined it possible myself," Dumbledore began. Sarah didn't bother looking him in the eye; she knew that with that tone his eyes were twinkling like mad. It made you want to strangle him. "But you seemed distraught at the end. What did the dragon say?"
Truthfully Dumbledore refused to believe the dragons were intelligent. How could they be? They were beasts.
Sarah took a deep breath to control her sanity a little better. There was no chance in hell she was going to tell Dumbledore what the dragon said, with that kind of information people would probably think her insane regardless, but Dumbledore could try something stupid to capitalise on it. He could obliviate the memory from her mind, keeping the whole thing to himself. Not going to happen old man, not a chance. He had no right to decide what she needed to know.
If he did that then she would die without remembering the warning, and Sarah didn't want that.
Her answer was simple. Really, Dumbledore should have expected it. It was the same old answer she gave him whenever he tried poking his nose into her business. Sarah cursed the magical world for making Dumbledore out to be some kind of Jesus Christ figure. "Mind your own business," she sighed.
"Miss Potter, twenty points from Gryffindor for your disrespect to the Headmaster, and look up when we speak to you." McGonagall, you could always trust the old cow to defend the old man.
Suddenly Sarah no longer gave a flying fuck. She was tired, emotionally drawn from what she'd just gone through, the prophecy the dragons had given her, so the last thing she wanted was to listen and explain herself anymore to these people. She'd tried to tell them she was innocent only to not be believed, and she was tired.
In a cold, distant voice that shook with suppressed rage that had Fleur step back with a gasp at the anger she was feeling permeating the tent, Sarah spoke in a dark voice. "Do not let my calm demeanor fool you Professor, because I am far from calm. And there is a good reason my head is down; its so then the headmaster can't rape my mind like he's tried for the past few years."
There was silence. No one said Sarah was lying, her voice was too harsh for that. "I am tired," Sarah carried on, her voice carrying its exhaustion plainly. "I am tired of this school, which I hate more than anything in the world, but I'm sickened by the lot of you. My parents gave their lives for this stuck up, stinking society which should have died long ago, and I was dumped on a doorstep, and the old fool you stand up for without a thought Professor, keeps trying to send me back to my relatives. Newsflash and a repeat you old, decrepit, naive fool, they dumped me first, not the other way around. They never loved me and they never would, surely that tells you something? If they loved me so much, as you claimed, then why did they DUMP me in an ORPHANAGE?! Unless of course those godforsaken lemon drops have fried the little grey cells in your brain."
McGonagall went pale. She'd warned Dumbledore about the Dursleys a long time ago, but she'd always assumed they'd at least taken the girl in as one of their own. To find they hadn't cut through her heart. She'd been a great friend to the Potters, and had watched their excitable baby girl had become the girl before her. How could she have gotten it so wrong? Her respect for Dumbledore was fast disappearing.
Sarah was unaware of her head of house's thoughts, but even if she had known she wouldn't have cared. "And the dragons, did you know they have a sense of self, a sense of identity? No, of course not, that would mean knowing something different. Your world has been stuck in the dark ages for centuries. You're stagnant in your beliefs. But its not my problem. I don't care if you all kill each other or the non magical world wipes the lot of you out. But back to dragons, they're sentient beings, and you chain them up, mistreat them and their young, and you starve them for the sake of a tournament! That makes you evil, pure evil. But then again, none of care about children. If you did then you wouldn't have stuck that stinking pet Hagrid called Fluffy inside the third floor corridor."
She glared into the eyes of the Durmstrang champion. "And you, the dragon mother has killed her children because of you. Did you parents not teach you right and wrong as a kid, or do you simply not care you murdered innocent children?"
She didn't wait for a reply, she just stood up slowly. "It doesn't matter. I'm leaving Hogwarts. I've been thinking of leaving for a long time."
Dumbledore at once protested, his plans for the girl required her to stay at the castle. For the first time she looked up at him, and McGonagall saw something she'd never seen on Sarah's face. There was genuine hatred there in her green eyes. "Don't you dare tell me I can't leave," she hissed. "I made the arrangements legally since the Christmas of my first year, the same year you tried to send me back to that doorstep. They're perfectly legal, and you know it." Sarah leant closer. "Did you never ask yourself why I was so cheerful after the holiday? Anyway it doesn't matter now," she waved a hand dismissively. "I'm going. Don't come after me, any of you. Just stay away."
Sarah took a step towards the entrance when Dumbledore opened his mouth again. What he said was a real low.
"Your parents would not want you to leave with your education unfinished," he said the words he believed would be the magic words to bring control of Sarah back under his thumb. His eyes widened with horror when the tent began to shake, and he was lifted bodily into the air. The gasps and cries of surprise and horror were distant sounds to his mind; all he could see were two emerald green eyes burning with rage.
SLAP!
"Don't you ever use my parents in your sick little schemes, you meddling old shit! Don't you DARE! Try that again, so help me, I'll skin you alive and feed what's left of you to the dragons!" Sarah spat angrily as Dumbledore tried to use a hand to rub his burning cheek but he couldn't move a finger, let alone a hand. "The paperwork for my leaving is already in your office and filed in the Ministry of Magic, and don't bother looking for me either."
She vanished with that before McGonagall could tell her she could not leave because of the contract binding her to the tournament, but a man's cry of pain had her rush out, ignoring the pained cry coming from Dumbledore as he fell to the ground with the cancelation of the spell holding him up in the air. He could take care of himself in her opinion. After all she'd done to Sarah, making her feel like rubbish, it was least she could do for the girl.
What met the old deputy headmistress's eyes when she came to the source of the cry made her gape in shock. There, lying on the ground with a ring of surprised and stunned at the sight of the blond haired man with Mad Eye's eye and peg leg and staff lying on the ground.
Severus Snape's voice was a whisper.
"Barty Crouch?"
Author's note - Stop SOPA if you want to stop the US government from banning fan fiction. Here's the link - .gov/petition/stop-sopa-2014/q0Vkk0Zr