htmlcenterRated PG-13 for some language. Not much. But you know.
/centerbchapter one ./b the drunken teacher/center
i"From the heart of darkness, You call to me, Spirit raging on. There is nothing I can do, For you are next to no one."/i
The sun rose with quiet solitude on September the first, shedding its crimson rays on The Burrow at exactly 6 o'clock. The house wasn't exactly bustling with activity, but Mrs. Weasley was already in the kitchen finishing up cooking the breakfast, and three people were seated at the dining table. Mr. Weasley had his chair turned towards a very appealing 16- year-old witch, interviewing her on important Muggle relations. The girl was running her hands quickly through her auburn hair, obviously aggravated. Ginny Weasley was sitting next to her, checking a Hogwarts list and making sure she had bought everything for the new term.
"Mr. Weasley, please, the purpose of a rubber duck is to float in a bathtub and entertain Muggle children," Heather explained for the third time that morning. She sighed impatiently and reached for a piece of toast that was sitting untouched in front of her on a pearly white plate.
"But how does it float?" Mr. Weasley persisted. "Surely the duck can't float without magic, can it?"
Heather rolled her eyes and looked at her best friend, Ginny Weasley. Ginny had changed a lot since Heather first met her in Ginny's second year. Even though Heather was a year older than Ginny, when the two met, they instantly clicked. Heather had spent the last half of summer at Ginny's house, where she felt more than welcome.
Scooting her wooden chair over so she was closer to Ginny and could ignore Mr. Weasley better, she said out loud to herself, "Ihr Vater ist, Ginny verrückt."
Ginny giggled. "He's not crazy," she whispered back, "Just obsessed. With Muggles."
Heather raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You actually could understand that? I've taught you well." She smiled and finally managed to take a bite of her toast.
At this point, Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen wearing a flowered apron and carrying a plate stacked high with bacon. She pulled out a chair next to her husband and sat down, placing the plate in front of him.
"Let's talk about something we're all happy with," Mrs. Weasley said cheerily. "So Heather, tell me more about yourself. All I know is that you transferred to Hogwarts in your third year from a school in Germany called Odsbourne." She folded her hands and placed them on the table, eagerly looking at her.
"Well," Heather began in a polite tone, "besides my grandmother, I'm the only witch in the family. I was Muggle born. It's kind of strange, really." She paused to take another bite of toast, in which Mrs. Weasley reached for a piece of bacon. "My mom and dad moved from Berlin to Surrey the year He- Who-Must-Still-Not-Be-Named was defeated. I applied to Hogwarts, got in, and since have lost my German accent."
"Tell me about your parents. Perhaps I might meet them again over the summer? Your mother's name was Luna, right?"
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. Luna Stieg. And my father's name is Brett. Feel free to drop them an owl at any time." She stopped to look up as Ron and Harry walked down the stairs, fully dressed and ready, pulling their heavy school trunks behind them. Harry had stayed the last night of summer at the Weasley's.
"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, placing his trunk at the foot of the stairs and running his hands through his raven-colored hair. "Morning, Mr. Weasley, Ginny. Guten Morgen, Heather."
"Well, if we don't watch it, Arthur, we'll be the only ones in this house who don't speak German!" Mrs. Weasley laughed, standing up and clearing the table. She disappeared into the kitchen with a swish of her flowered apron.
"Oh, nonsense, Molly," Mr. Weasley said in an undertone. Then, in a louder voice, he said, "Anyway, I see you're all ready. Ron, if you'd please get the girl's trunks, and Harry, if you'd be kind enough to help me put them in the trunk?" With that, he grabbed Harry's trunk and exited through the door.
"Dad got a promotion and the company gave us a new car," Ron explained to Harry, vanishing up the steps. Harry nodded, grabbed Ron's trunk, and followed Mr. Weasley through the door.
**
Soon the Weasley family, Harry, Heather and Ginny were all standing in front of The Hogwarts Express, shivering against the cold. The once blue sky had turned a threatening slate color, and one could even taste the moisture in the air.
"You'd better hurry up," Mrs. Weasley prodded, "or the rain will catch you!"
"Thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," Heather said, walking up to Mrs. Weasley and giving her a gracious hug. "It was great."
"Anytime, dear." Mrs. Weasley hugged her two children and Harry and watched them climb into the train. She waved as the whistle blew and watched the heavy train pull itself out of the station, just as a light drizzle began to fall.
On board the train, the group of young wizards and witches found themselves an empty compartment and made themselves at home. Heather and Ginny sat next to each other, with Heather closest to the door, Harry sat across from Heather, and Ron sat next to Harry. A roguish grin was playing at his lips. Heather noticed.
"What's up, Ron?" she asked.
"I'm not taking crap from Malfoy this year," Ron exclaimed defiantly.
"Ron, you say that every year," Harry said, exasperated. "And every year you end up doing something you regret when your mother finds out."
"Harry, with all six years you've known him, haven't you figured out he never does what he says?" Ginny piped up. She was gazing out the window, pondering the rain that was beginning to fall harder.
"Aww, can it, Ginny," Ron said, playfully punching her in the shoulder.
Just then, the old lady with the trolley full of sweets pulled up and asked if they'd like to buy anything. Heather insisted she treat all of them, so she paid the lady and soon they were all snacking on various types of wizard candy. Amazingly enough, Heather didn't get one bad tasting Bertie Botts Bean.
"Must be the luck of the German," Ron said, his mouth stuffed with a Chocolate Frog, holding a new wizard card he had never seen before in front of his eyes.
"It's the luck o' the Irish, you knucklehead," Heather said. "Außerdem glaube ich nicht an Glück." Ron, Harry and Ginny exchanged confused looks, returning their gaze blankly towards Heather. She sighed impatiently, and explained, "Besides, I don't believe in luck."
"And for a good reason, 'cos you just met your worst nightmare."
Harry groaned, Ginny scooted back into her seat, and Ron clenched his knuckles. Draco Malfoy was leaning against the door in the hall, his eyes narrowed in malice.
Heather immediately stood up to barrier Ron from Malfoy. Harry tried to hold him down as he spat nasty comments in Malfoy's general direction.
"Go away, Malfoy. We don't want any trouble," Heather said, her voice calm.
"Pity, pity, Potter. Now you've got a girl fighting for you?" Malfoy exclaimed, his eyebrows rising.
Before any of them could blink, Heather grabbed Malfoy's shirt collar and slammed him against the wall, her face inches from his. Malfoy was so surprised he forgot to breath for a few seconds.
"Don't ever talk to me like that again, Malfoy," Heather spat into his ear, barely audible, her voice full of venom. She released him from her grip and stepped back, not noticing the onlookers that had gathered around them. She never took her abnormally silver eyes away from his.
Regaining his composure and relaxing a bit, Malfoy's gray eyes traveled from Heather's gaze and down towards her feet, and back up again - very slowly.
Miffed, Heather scoffed. "And just what exactly are you thinking Malfoy?"
Matching Heather's swiftness, Malfoy grabbed Heather, spun her around, and locked her in the same position he had been in. "Just how dead sexy you really are," he hissed, smiling maliciously.
Heather was shocked. She looked at him, her moth open as if to say something in protest, but she couldn't find her voice. Then he did something she never would have expected him to do - he kissed her.
Heather didn't know what to do. He put his hands on her hips, prolonging the kiss, daring her to resist him. He threatened to swallow her existence - to suck out her soul. Ron made a move to open the window as if he was going to be sick. Ginny and Harry couldn't blink, their mouths hanging open at sheer astonishment. And even more astonishing, Heather didn't resist. She wrapped her arms around Malfoy's neck and returned the kiss, rivaling his power. She opened her mouth more as she felt his tongue.
Then, as suddenly as he had kissed her, he pulled away, whispering in her ear, "I'll be seeing you later," and strolled down the hallway without a second glance backward, acting as if nothing had happened, leaving a very confused, very dazed Heather standing alone in the hallway.
**
The rain was coming down in torrents by the time the students had filed into the castle, and Heather had never felt more miserable in her life. Everywhere she went, people were teasing her about the incident on the train with Malfoy. Harry was trying his hardest to keep people from interrogating her, but he was failing horrendously. Ginny tried to comfort her, but Heather had just blocked everyone and everything out. She didn't even pay attention to the Sorting Ceremony, which usually was her favorite thing to watch.
She sighed a very heavy, very depressed sigh as the food magically appeared on the plates before them. She reached for a fork, but didn't do anything with it - just held it in her hand, squeezing it as if her life depended on it. Ginny was beginning to worry about her.
"Heather, come on, you need to eat..." But Ginny trailed off, knowing her words were helpless.
Suddenly, there was laughter among the crowds. Ron and Harry stood up, looking around to see what was so funny. Heather lifted her head meekly, hoping to God it would cheer her up.
Professor Trelawney had just barged through the staff door and was wobbling dazedly down the aisle, her hair tousled and frayed, her clothes misplaced and put on backwards, and her glasses askew. She was obviously very, very drunk.
Professors McGonagall and Dumbledor stood up, shaking their heads in disgust. Professor Dumbledor quickly made his way around the long staff table, his blue eyes darkening with embarrassment.
"Sibyll, honestly, you're beyond drunk," he said smoothly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Come with me, please..." but Professor Trelawney was putting up a fight. In slurred, inaudible words, she was protesting, and by the time Snape and McGonagall had their grips on her, trying to pull her away, she was screaming. The Great Hall was completely silent. It was like witnessing policeman trying to bring down a rioter.
Suddenly, without warning, Professor Trelawney dropped to her knees, her eyeballs rolling into the back of her head, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, her head was hung as if it weighed a thousand pounds, and her arms didn't move from her sides. The teachers that were trying to calm her down stepped back, frightened at what might happen next.
Then Professor Trelawney picked up her head, and she was smiling gruesomely. Some people in the Great Hall screamed and ran out the door into the dormitories, but Heather felt frozen to the spot. Then Professor Trelawney's voice changed - it was deep, drawling, and unearthly. Heather felt as if an icicle had slipped down her throat as the Professor literally screamed out:
centeri"Auf Dunkelheithimmel fallen schwarze Masse und Elfenbein, weit von Ihre Welt die Gottnachfrage ihr Wille. Der Mond ruft seine Tochter an und er schluckt seine Stämme, um in den Himmeln für immer zu leben." /i/center
The Professor shook madly and then collapsed on the floor in a crumpled heap.
Heather stood up, her eyes widely opened, strangely translucent. "Das prophecy," she muttered, "The prophecy!"
Ginny was brave enough to speak up. She too was mortally petrified. "It sounded like she was speaking German..." Ginny practically had to yell over the crowd of people that were rushing to get out of the Great Hall.
"She was," Heather hissed. "She spoke of an ancient prophecy that was told in old German fairytales."
"What did she say?" Harry asked.
"She said: 'Dark skies fall on black earth. Far from your world, the gods demand their will. The moon will call its daughter, And it shall swallow its kin, To live in the heavens forever," Heather concluded.
"What does it mean?" Ron asked.
"I don't know, but I have a feeling Hogwarts is in for yet another interesting year..." Heather said, turning and making a move towards the big oak doors.
**
A/N: Okay so that first chapter wasn't exactly miracle masterpiece work, but c'mon. It'll be a very interesting story. :0) Feel free to e-mail me and what not .. and by the way, if you see tags on here, don't worry, I'll delete this chapter, fix it, and re-load it. Please review, reviewing makes me happy!! :0)
/centerbchapter one ./b the drunken teacher/center
i"From the heart of darkness, You call to me, Spirit raging on. There is nothing I can do, For you are next to no one."/i
The sun rose with quiet solitude on September the first, shedding its crimson rays on The Burrow at exactly 6 o'clock. The house wasn't exactly bustling with activity, but Mrs. Weasley was already in the kitchen finishing up cooking the breakfast, and three people were seated at the dining table. Mr. Weasley had his chair turned towards a very appealing 16- year-old witch, interviewing her on important Muggle relations. The girl was running her hands quickly through her auburn hair, obviously aggravated. Ginny Weasley was sitting next to her, checking a Hogwarts list and making sure she had bought everything for the new term.
"Mr. Weasley, please, the purpose of a rubber duck is to float in a bathtub and entertain Muggle children," Heather explained for the third time that morning. She sighed impatiently and reached for a piece of toast that was sitting untouched in front of her on a pearly white plate.
"But how does it float?" Mr. Weasley persisted. "Surely the duck can't float without magic, can it?"
Heather rolled her eyes and looked at her best friend, Ginny Weasley. Ginny had changed a lot since Heather first met her in Ginny's second year. Even though Heather was a year older than Ginny, when the two met, they instantly clicked. Heather had spent the last half of summer at Ginny's house, where she felt more than welcome.
Scooting her wooden chair over so she was closer to Ginny and could ignore Mr. Weasley better, she said out loud to herself, "Ihr Vater ist, Ginny verrückt."
Ginny giggled. "He's not crazy," she whispered back, "Just obsessed. With Muggles."
Heather raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You actually could understand that? I've taught you well." She smiled and finally managed to take a bite of her toast.
At this point, Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen wearing a flowered apron and carrying a plate stacked high with bacon. She pulled out a chair next to her husband and sat down, placing the plate in front of him.
"Let's talk about something we're all happy with," Mrs. Weasley said cheerily. "So Heather, tell me more about yourself. All I know is that you transferred to Hogwarts in your third year from a school in Germany called Odsbourne." She folded her hands and placed them on the table, eagerly looking at her.
"Well," Heather began in a polite tone, "besides my grandmother, I'm the only witch in the family. I was Muggle born. It's kind of strange, really." She paused to take another bite of toast, in which Mrs. Weasley reached for a piece of bacon. "My mom and dad moved from Berlin to Surrey the year He- Who-Must-Still-Not-Be-Named was defeated. I applied to Hogwarts, got in, and since have lost my German accent."
"Tell me about your parents. Perhaps I might meet them again over the summer? Your mother's name was Luna, right?"
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. Luna Stieg. And my father's name is Brett. Feel free to drop them an owl at any time." She stopped to look up as Ron and Harry walked down the stairs, fully dressed and ready, pulling their heavy school trunks behind them. Harry had stayed the last night of summer at the Weasley's.
"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, placing his trunk at the foot of the stairs and running his hands through his raven-colored hair. "Morning, Mr. Weasley, Ginny. Guten Morgen, Heather."
"Well, if we don't watch it, Arthur, we'll be the only ones in this house who don't speak German!" Mrs. Weasley laughed, standing up and clearing the table. She disappeared into the kitchen with a swish of her flowered apron.
"Oh, nonsense, Molly," Mr. Weasley said in an undertone. Then, in a louder voice, he said, "Anyway, I see you're all ready. Ron, if you'd please get the girl's trunks, and Harry, if you'd be kind enough to help me put them in the trunk?" With that, he grabbed Harry's trunk and exited through the door.
"Dad got a promotion and the company gave us a new car," Ron explained to Harry, vanishing up the steps. Harry nodded, grabbed Ron's trunk, and followed Mr. Weasley through the door.
**
Soon the Weasley family, Harry, Heather and Ginny were all standing in front of The Hogwarts Express, shivering against the cold. The once blue sky had turned a threatening slate color, and one could even taste the moisture in the air.
"You'd better hurry up," Mrs. Weasley prodded, "or the rain will catch you!"
"Thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," Heather said, walking up to Mrs. Weasley and giving her a gracious hug. "It was great."
"Anytime, dear." Mrs. Weasley hugged her two children and Harry and watched them climb into the train. She waved as the whistle blew and watched the heavy train pull itself out of the station, just as a light drizzle began to fall.
On board the train, the group of young wizards and witches found themselves an empty compartment and made themselves at home. Heather and Ginny sat next to each other, with Heather closest to the door, Harry sat across from Heather, and Ron sat next to Harry. A roguish grin was playing at his lips. Heather noticed.
"What's up, Ron?" she asked.
"I'm not taking crap from Malfoy this year," Ron exclaimed defiantly.
"Ron, you say that every year," Harry said, exasperated. "And every year you end up doing something you regret when your mother finds out."
"Harry, with all six years you've known him, haven't you figured out he never does what he says?" Ginny piped up. She was gazing out the window, pondering the rain that was beginning to fall harder.
"Aww, can it, Ginny," Ron said, playfully punching her in the shoulder.
Just then, the old lady with the trolley full of sweets pulled up and asked if they'd like to buy anything. Heather insisted she treat all of them, so she paid the lady and soon they were all snacking on various types of wizard candy. Amazingly enough, Heather didn't get one bad tasting Bertie Botts Bean.
"Must be the luck of the German," Ron said, his mouth stuffed with a Chocolate Frog, holding a new wizard card he had never seen before in front of his eyes.
"It's the luck o' the Irish, you knucklehead," Heather said. "Außerdem glaube ich nicht an Glück." Ron, Harry and Ginny exchanged confused looks, returning their gaze blankly towards Heather. She sighed impatiently, and explained, "Besides, I don't believe in luck."
"And for a good reason, 'cos you just met your worst nightmare."
Harry groaned, Ginny scooted back into her seat, and Ron clenched his knuckles. Draco Malfoy was leaning against the door in the hall, his eyes narrowed in malice.
Heather immediately stood up to barrier Ron from Malfoy. Harry tried to hold him down as he spat nasty comments in Malfoy's general direction.
"Go away, Malfoy. We don't want any trouble," Heather said, her voice calm.
"Pity, pity, Potter. Now you've got a girl fighting for you?" Malfoy exclaimed, his eyebrows rising.
Before any of them could blink, Heather grabbed Malfoy's shirt collar and slammed him against the wall, her face inches from his. Malfoy was so surprised he forgot to breath for a few seconds.
"Don't ever talk to me like that again, Malfoy," Heather spat into his ear, barely audible, her voice full of venom. She released him from her grip and stepped back, not noticing the onlookers that had gathered around them. She never took her abnormally silver eyes away from his.
Regaining his composure and relaxing a bit, Malfoy's gray eyes traveled from Heather's gaze and down towards her feet, and back up again - very slowly.
Miffed, Heather scoffed. "And just what exactly are you thinking Malfoy?"
Matching Heather's swiftness, Malfoy grabbed Heather, spun her around, and locked her in the same position he had been in. "Just how dead sexy you really are," he hissed, smiling maliciously.
Heather was shocked. She looked at him, her moth open as if to say something in protest, but she couldn't find her voice. Then he did something she never would have expected him to do - he kissed her.
Heather didn't know what to do. He put his hands on her hips, prolonging the kiss, daring her to resist him. He threatened to swallow her existence - to suck out her soul. Ron made a move to open the window as if he was going to be sick. Ginny and Harry couldn't blink, their mouths hanging open at sheer astonishment. And even more astonishing, Heather didn't resist. She wrapped her arms around Malfoy's neck and returned the kiss, rivaling his power. She opened her mouth more as she felt his tongue.
Then, as suddenly as he had kissed her, he pulled away, whispering in her ear, "I'll be seeing you later," and strolled down the hallway without a second glance backward, acting as if nothing had happened, leaving a very confused, very dazed Heather standing alone in the hallway.
**
The rain was coming down in torrents by the time the students had filed into the castle, and Heather had never felt more miserable in her life. Everywhere she went, people were teasing her about the incident on the train with Malfoy. Harry was trying his hardest to keep people from interrogating her, but he was failing horrendously. Ginny tried to comfort her, but Heather had just blocked everyone and everything out. She didn't even pay attention to the Sorting Ceremony, which usually was her favorite thing to watch.
She sighed a very heavy, very depressed sigh as the food magically appeared on the plates before them. She reached for a fork, but didn't do anything with it - just held it in her hand, squeezing it as if her life depended on it. Ginny was beginning to worry about her.
"Heather, come on, you need to eat..." But Ginny trailed off, knowing her words were helpless.
Suddenly, there was laughter among the crowds. Ron and Harry stood up, looking around to see what was so funny. Heather lifted her head meekly, hoping to God it would cheer her up.
Professor Trelawney had just barged through the staff door and was wobbling dazedly down the aisle, her hair tousled and frayed, her clothes misplaced and put on backwards, and her glasses askew. She was obviously very, very drunk.
Professors McGonagall and Dumbledor stood up, shaking their heads in disgust. Professor Dumbledor quickly made his way around the long staff table, his blue eyes darkening with embarrassment.
"Sibyll, honestly, you're beyond drunk," he said smoothly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Come with me, please..." but Professor Trelawney was putting up a fight. In slurred, inaudible words, she was protesting, and by the time Snape and McGonagall had their grips on her, trying to pull her away, she was screaming. The Great Hall was completely silent. It was like witnessing policeman trying to bring down a rioter.
Suddenly, without warning, Professor Trelawney dropped to her knees, her eyeballs rolling into the back of her head, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, her head was hung as if it weighed a thousand pounds, and her arms didn't move from her sides. The teachers that were trying to calm her down stepped back, frightened at what might happen next.
Then Professor Trelawney picked up her head, and she was smiling gruesomely. Some people in the Great Hall screamed and ran out the door into the dormitories, but Heather felt frozen to the spot. Then Professor Trelawney's voice changed - it was deep, drawling, and unearthly. Heather felt as if an icicle had slipped down her throat as the Professor literally screamed out:
centeri"Auf Dunkelheithimmel fallen schwarze Masse und Elfenbein, weit von Ihre Welt die Gottnachfrage ihr Wille. Der Mond ruft seine Tochter an und er schluckt seine Stämme, um in den Himmeln für immer zu leben." /i/center
The Professor shook madly and then collapsed on the floor in a crumpled heap.
Heather stood up, her eyes widely opened, strangely translucent. "Das prophecy," she muttered, "The prophecy!"
Ginny was brave enough to speak up. She too was mortally petrified. "It sounded like she was speaking German..." Ginny practically had to yell over the crowd of people that were rushing to get out of the Great Hall.
"She was," Heather hissed. "She spoke of an ancient prophecy that was told in old German fairytales."
"What did she say?" Harry asked.
"She said: 'Dark skies fall on black earth. Far from your world, the gods demand their will. The moon will call its daughter, And it shall swallow its kin, To live in the heavens forever," Heather concluded.
"What does it mean?" Ron asked.
"I don't know, but I have a feeling Hogwarts is in for yet another interesting year..." Heather said, turning and making a move towards the big oak doors.
**
A/N: Okay so that first chapter wasn't exactly miracle masterpiece work, but c'mon. It'll be a very interesting story. :0) Feel free to e-mail me and what not .. and by the way, if you see tags on here, don't worry, I'll delete this chapter, fix it, and re-load it. Please review, reviewing makes me happy!! :0)