Authors Note: Influences come from numerous areas and fandoms, nod doubt some of you will know who the main protagonist is drawn from. I claim to own NONE of the characters within this Fanfiction bar the ones created by myself. The plot is purely mine. No copycats.
Authors Note: No warnings as of yet, however I will change it if the situation requires it.
Expected Arrival
By Happy Fingers
"Friendship is an illusion, a false sense of security… until you experience it…"
CHAPTER 1: MILITARY SCHOOL?
"Yes sir, everything is in place, he should be arriving shortly" the proud Headmaster said pompously, proud that, despite appearances, everything was under complete control.
It was an odd sight to see a man so miniature in height, to retain such a sense of authority within his voice. The large black office chair he was sat in, could've easily taken two or three people of the Headmasters size, and the merry man seemed to be completely un-phased that, on the other end of the phone, was one of the most powerful men in the world. Leaning forward he peered over the shiny, polished surface of the Mahogany desk in front of him, inspecting the gap between his front teeth for any remnants of food that may have been stuck there from the large lunch he consumed only moments before. After running a podgy hand over his slightly balding head he leaned back in his chair, causing the hinges to squeak loudly.
"I assure you, he's more than capable of handling himself" the small man said, inspecting the gold ring that was somehow round his podgy, middle finger. Delicately carved into the gold was what seemed to be a lion of some kind, baring his sharp teeth and claws. A small smile began to twitch below the mans bushy, brown moustache. That symbol, unbeknown to most, held such authority where he belonged, that most people cowered in fear from it. True, there were those that openly challenged the insignia whenever they came across it, sometimes there were even wars over it, but right now, it was an emblem of power, a clear-cut piece of evidence that the podgy Headmaster was a success, that his school was a force to be reckoned with it.
He couldn't help but smile, he was young, well, young enough, he had an extremely well paying client on the phone, and despite what his wife said, he was not going bald.
"Yes, yes, well, we'll have to wait and see, he'll report daily" he assured again, happy that regardless of his clients' efforts, there was absolutely nothing wrong.
With a soft click, the Headmaster placed the phone on its handle, a surprisingly wide smile spreading across his slightly podgy face. Looking up from his desk he smiled at the man that had been standing opposite him, waiting patiently for the long phone call to finish. He was wearing a suit, an expensive one, and his business-like posture only furthered his powerful appearance.
"See. No idea, we've got him eating out of our hands like a starved puppy" the small man leered from his seat, slapping both hands down on his desk gleefully.
The Great Hall erupted in applause as Dumbledore finished his speech, whether this was in appreciation for what was said, or for the fact it was over was debatable, however most of the students were now absorbed in discussion over the mention of Lord Voldemort's name. This particular segment of the long-winded speech had caused a ripple of gossip to spiral outwards and around the large Hall.
The somewhat comforting sound of clanging plates and cutlery filled the air as the voluptuous-looking food appeared before the sea of students, spreading delight and joy in copious amounts to those that had starved themselves in apprehension for the famed Hogwarts' Feast.
There was only a handful of students that weren't stunned by Dumbledore's mention of the Dark Lord, instead, they're attention was focused on something else, or rather, someone else.
"Military school?" Harry repeated, careful not to let the surprisingly large mouthful of potatoes escape his flabbergasted mouth.
In all his time spent with the Magical World he had not once paid a seconds thought to that of Military School, or the Army or, well…
It was at this point that Harry was suddenly realizing a plethora of questions that were now propping up within his brain. He had just assumed Aurors took care of things like that, was there an actual Wizards Army, just like in the Muggle World?
It seemed Hermione, sat opposite him, was somewhat aware of these thoughts as she watched Harry with a raised eyebrow.
"A rumored Military School Harry, it's just a rumor, no one's actually seen or found one. The Ministry denies their existence completely" Hermione stated, once again sounding far too much like a text book.
"But-" Neville cut in meekly, which was understandable, Neville was usually one to just sit back and observe rather than participate "Just because no one's ever actually found one, doesn't mean they don't exist" he reasoned.
"Well where else would he be coming from then?" Ron asked accusingly, signifying the start of the year-long arguments that plagued the tight group of friends, or rather, that plagued his relationship with the clever brown haired girl. He had been extremely proud of the fact that, for once, he had something exciting to relay to his friends. Over the Summer, Ron had overheard two members of the Order chatting about a young man soon to be attending Hogwarts.
"Well I don't know, but just because someone says he comes from Military school doesn't mean he actually did. He could've come from anywhere; there are thousands of Magical Schools in the world Ronald" Hermione retorted, cutting through the piece of steak on her plate in a rough manner, so rough in fact, that she was apparently unaware of the screeching sound coming from the knife that was cutting into the plate below.
The conversation had taken an interesting turn when Ronald gleefully added that he was suspected to originate from Military School, although he cleverly held back that it was Fred and George who had found that particular nugget of information, not him.
"Well how do you explain his entrance exam scores then. He's definitely not from Europe, not if he's got an Apparition License" Ron reasoned, happy that it seemed it was Hermione that was outnumbered, not him.
The doors to the Great Hall usually remained silent and stationary during the Sorting Hat Feast, and so, it caused a considerable amount of disruption when they abruptly opened, causing the clanging of cutlery against plates and excited chattering of the students to pause as they awaited to examine the cause of the disruption.
"It's him!" Neville gasped, unaware of his sleeve that was currently bobbing merrily within his Pumpkin Juice, as he leant across the table to nudge Ron and Harry.
The man that walked in held himself with unpronounced grace, each movement, no matter how small, performed with such elegance that it seemed to en-trance anyone foolish enough to have lingered their gaze on the feminine looking man for more than a few moments. There was no sound as he walked, even as his shiny, black boots connected with the usually noisy concrete floor below. The cool wind that seemed to surround the young man as he moved was obviously not in the imagination of the odd few that had felt the peculiar chill that traveled through their spines as he passed, and although the sometimes audible shivers and shakes could be seen clearly by the pale man, he made no move to recognize them. Instead, he continued to move towards the front of the hall, never removing his stormy blue eyes from his destination.
His name was Shilo Leonhart, and like all other fourth-years, was fifteen years of age. However unlike most fourth years he could've easily passed for a Seventh year student. His wand was holstered at the side of his leather pants, and from the glimpse Harry caught of it, looked nothing like his or anyone else's he'd seen. He wore a plain white t-shirt that clung to him nicely, and atop it, a black lather jacket, with a fur collar that nestled around his neck. Despite this odd attire, many students focused on nothing but his face, that should've relayed some sort of emotion, especially when walking in front of a whole school for teenagers, yet didn't.
Hermione Granger made a strenuous effort to clearly display her lack of interest in the newcomer, audibly scoffing at the various people that held the same look of awe, trepidation, and, oddly enough, recognition, in the light of the man strolling past each of them. True she had, at first, been initially interested in the arrival of the newcomer; on further thought she had decided the whole thing was inappropriate. She found the whole 'conspiracy theory' of Magical Schools geared towards Military training absurd. Though this had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that upon further research (performed for the sole purpose of appeasing her curiosity, of course) she had discovered Shilo Leonhart possessed the one of the highest Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and Potions scores ever (cleverly discovered through his entrance exam). Not to mention the fact he gained his Apparition license – even though he wasn't legally aloud to do so, was born a natural Occlumens (one of only 12 in the entire world), is accomplished at Legilimency and has begun to study Transmoghraphy, a magic most believe to be impossible to learn.
Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as the new arrivals gaze fell to her and she felt her spine chill at the sight. Eyes that were shifting hues from blue to grey glared at her from behind thick lashes of black, and although he was staring straight at her, Hermione was sure he wasn't even seeing her. As she struggled to throw of the prickling feeling that was occurring at the back of her neck she held his gaze, although this wasn't necessarily out of choice. His face held no expression; instead he just looked at her, his stormy blue eyes boring into her own, as if looking right into her brain. They seemed to convey anger or worse, hatred, without the need for any movement, or expression on his face.
Thankfully he looked away as he reached the front of the Hall, coming to face to face with Albus Dumbledore. The friendly Headmaster held out his hand in warm greeting, though it didn't take long for him to drop it, after the vacant expression the young man threw in his direction. Dumbledore just smiled.
"Hello Shilo" he said sincerely
The young man just nodded, and continued to stare at the Headmaster, as if awaiting instruction.
"Right then!" Dumbledore said happily, obviously thrown off by the new arrivals attitude. Something Harry and his friends had never seen before.
"Well then Shilo, if you just make you're way to the Gryffindor table then you can settle right in. Hmmm?"
As Dumbledore came to place a gentle hand on Shilo's back, the young man's head whipped round at him, casting a glare that, looked as if it could kill. Dumbledore immediately withdrew his hand as his long beard tingled.
Shilo proceeded to sit down as Harry and the others watched awe-struck. Slowly, the Hall begun to fill with noise as the students talked about the 'new boy'.
Next to Shilo, Harry fumbled with his fork, trying to pick up a particularly slippery carrot. For the next few minutes the group of Gryffindors ate in silence, carefully casting glances at Shilo, who sat in silence, staring at his gloved hands that were rested on the table. After a while Ron eventually spoke.
"Hi there…Ummm I'm Ron and um, well…this is Harry and Hermione and Neville and Seamus, and, umm…well, down the end there is my brothers Fred and George they're twins actually, it's quite funny really because my mum - her names Molly – never actually wanted twins, well, actually she was told she could never have twins cus've-" he rambled, while the other Gryffindors watched in horror.
Shilo however merely stared at Ron, seemingly waiting for him to finish his incessant rambling while gazing right through him.
"Ronald!" Hermione cut in eventually, not feeling sure as to whether she feel sorry for Ron or the new arrival.
"You'll have to forgive him-" she smiled, turning her attention towards Shilo with a sympathetic smile "He's just nervous, it's not everyday we have a new person coming to sit at our table" she said happily, raising her eyebrows in the vain hope she may get a response.
Harry just sat there, occasionally glancing at the boy now watching Hermione. It was an odd experience, he could feel a chill in the air, that caused his skin to tingle. Yet he struggled to take his attention away from the new arrival. He was very feminine looking, with pale skin that seemed to have absolutely no marks, his longish chocolate brown hair hung at jaw length in a style that couldn't be described in any definite form. On his left ear, (the ear facing Harry) was a small round ball of an earring, no bigger than a raindrop, that twinkled in the moonlight of the enchanted ceiling.
It was only then that Harry noticed it. Above them the floating candles usually flickered gently, now, they were all snubbed out, wisps of grey mist floating from the black tip.
Were they out when he had arrived?
He didn't think to look.
"Right" Shilo said suddenly, causing Harry (much to his despair) to jump animatedly.
Everyone's attention went from Shilo to Harry who was now sliding his dislodged glasses back into position.
"S-sorry…" he mumbled, his fingers fumbling around the rims.
Beside him Shilo's gaze lingered on his scar, now visible due to the way his hair had flicked to the side from his actions. Harry smiled back meekly, and, as half-expected, received nothing in return than an icy glare, before he tuned back to watching his gloves.
The table was reduced to silence. Ron sat red-faced, repeatedly stabbing a potatoe while inwardly cursing himself for his outburst. Hermione was watching the new arrival intently, studying his every move. He was odd indeed, most definitely rude, but there was something about him. Neville was openly staring at Shilo in apparent admiration, causing everyone to feel apprehensive (no one wanted another outburst like Ron's) And Harry was deep in thought about the Arrivals origins. Ginny and her friends were eyeing up the new arrival with revered interest and Shilo was doing nothing. Other than blinking of course.
"Great he's gonna think I'm a complete moron now" Ron huffed, slumping down on one of the large chairs by the crackling fire.
"Oh for goodness sakes, do you really want to be friends with someone like him anyway, Mr-I'm-too-good-for-you-to-speak !?" Hermione said, irritated.
Harry sat in silence, listening to his friends. He certainly was strange, and certainly he'd never met anyone like him.
"Whaddya think Harry, about this Military School, d'you think it's true?" Ron said, his bruised ego apparently recovering, if slowly.
"I dunno, maybe…" He said finally, pondering his thoughts, struggling to fight of the fatigue that was claiming him after the big meal.
"Well anyway, we've got more important things to worry about, like classes, I'm going to bed, I'll see you all tomorrow" Hermione interrupted righteously and strutted off to bed.
Shilo Leonhart carefully shut the door behind him before sliding out of his leather jacket and taking off his heavy leather boots. The small room he was assigned was temporary, yet it suited Shilos needs fine. Removing his wand from it's holster he gave it a lazy flick. His small brown duffel bag unpacked itself neatly. Each plain white t-shirt folding into a perfect square, immaculately piled on top of one another, while his several pairs of black leather pants unpacked in a similar fashion. Shilo had never understood the necessity to own more than a few sets of clothes, it was just logic.
Examining the room, more out of habit than caution he checked for the usual. Camera's, Recording devices, Sneakometers e.t.c Though he sincerely doubted there would be any.
Sighing he collapsed on the bed. He'd been on tougher assignments than this, yet most of those assignments didn't include being around a crowd of people.
Shilo was not a people person, by any means. In fact, by most of his peers back at school he was considered to something of a lone wolf. He usually paid no attention to others, and only spoke when the situation explicitly required him to do so. It had been this way for as long as he could remember.
"Are you ready?" an apprehensive voice called out through the speakers, resounding around the large square hall and through the observatory rooms coming off of it.
In the center of the room was one young man, clad in leather trousers and jacket. Despite the fact there were no windows in the white training hall, a slight breeze swirled around the young man, ruffling the feather collar of his jacket. He nodded, barely imperceptibly, withdrawing his black wand from the holster at his hip and flicking his head to the side, causing his chocolate brown hair to flick out from obstructing his view.
At the edge of the hall was one brown door the only source of color, two men walked through it wearing the traditional school uniform. In there hands were their wands, clutched tightly in apprehension for what was coming.
In a wisp of black smoke two other students appeared at the other end of the room, facing the boy in the center's back, however neither of them were foolish enough to believe that the boy hadn't noticed them.
"Watch and learn gentlemen" smiled one man behind one wall of glass, folding his podgy arms against his considerably large chest. Behind him stood two potential clients, waiting to become witness to the Headmasters' top student.
A mechanical sounding voice burst from the speakers, interrupted by the harsh hissing of static.
"Training commencing in five, four, three, two, one"
The five men in the Hall moved so fast, that the two suited men watching struggled to follow what was happening. The man in the middle, the Headmasters top student, Shilo, disappeared in a wisp of black smoke and proceeded to appear and then disappear around the Hall so fast, that the four attackers ended up firing spells in any direction with the hope of hitting their target.
One of the attackers yelped as they were hit in the jaw by the man's fist, yet he didn't have the chance to retaliate for the man was already gone in a wisp of smoke. This unusual scene went on for several minutes. The man would appear for a fraction of a second, kick, punch, or push his target and then disappear again.
Behind the Headmaster the two suited men smiled happily. This man was showing potential, he was actually able to Apparate and Disaparate in a millisecond, something most grown wizards could not perform without Splinching. In fact, the two men had never seen anything like it.
Their thoughts on the matter were abruptly cut short as the man reappeared once again, and fired a beam of red, crackling energy at one of the attackers. He flew through the air, caught by surprise and smashed straight into the reinforced glass, causing the inhabitants of the room on the other side to jump slightly.
The man had stopped moving and was standing still, now watching the three men left. As they saw him they all fired an assortment of spells at the man simultaneously. A mixture of yellow, blue and green magical energy shot towards the man, however he flicked his wand in a manner most hadn't seen before, and a small blue ball shot from the end of his wand and encased all three spells, bobbing nicely in the air, as the energy swirled around within it. Immediately he fired another spell at one of the men who yelped before his legs disappeared, leaving him wailing on the floor. In another wisp of smoke he was gone before appearing mid air and kicking another of the men, causing him to fly off is feet and land unconscious next to the dismembered man. The final man readied himself as the man appeared at the other end of the hall, the slightest hint of amusement sparkling behind his blue, grey eyes.
The attacker shot a spell at the man, who, with a wave of his wand, caused the colorful energy to fall to the ground in the form of a snake. Suddenly a flash of white light filled the air, causing observers and participants to shield their eyes. As the light subsided the last standing attacker could only whimper as he felt the man's wand pointed roughly at the back of his head. And with one gentle poke, the man went flying to the other end of the hall, yelling as he did so.
Static shot through the speakers once again, successfully frowning out the wails of the man with no legs.
"Training complete. Well done Leonhart" the voice commended, and with another other rush of static the speaker shut off.
The man only shrugged before holstering his wand, and with one final glance towards the wall of glass and the people that were undoubtedly behind it, he walked back to class.
"Well, what do you think?" The Headmaster said smiling, turning to face the two clients.
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