Disclaimer

I don't own the canon characters. (Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Draco, etcetera...)
Or anything else from that matter that can be traced back to the works of JKR or the "Charmed" series.

Background Info :

Pre HBP

So Dumbly isn't dead...yet.

"Imitation"

A dark unfathomed tide

Of interminable pride--

A mystery, and a dream,

Should my early life seem;

I say that dream was fraught

With a wild and waking thought

Of beings that have been,

Which my spirit hath not seen,

Had I let them pass me by,

With a dreaming eye! -Edgar Allan Poe

(That is only a piece of the poem, and it's not being used for the benefit of this fic in any way.)

Prologue

It felt as though every square inch of her skin was being burned, frozen, stabbed with needles, and cut open. Well that's the only way she'd ever be able to explain it.

The truth was, the pain was like nothing she had ever felt. It was so beyond what any human was supposed to feel- yet not enough to kill. That was the power of it. Just that pain- the length of it- could make you do whatever the person inflicting it wanted you to.

No, Carrie thought to herself, I won't do what they want me to. They won't get it out of me. Sure as hell not like this...It'll all be over soon enough.

That's when the spell came off.

She fell to the dirt ground trembling. Her body ached everywhere, and she could barely lift her head. She did, though. The second she did, she regretted doing so. It was one of the biggest mistakes she had made, with the exception of getting into this mess in the first place. That moment when she lifted her head was when she watched them bring in the other. What she felt was something so beyond terror...

This would all be her fault.

Another death.

Her fault.

She couldn't scream, couldn't speak. She couldn't blink or turn away. It was almost as if she wasn't in her body. Like her spirit had left, and re-entered, but no longer had the ability to control it...

Chapter 1
Another beginning

The 'trio' walked into the Great Hall. They sat down and continued a rather heated argument. Well two of the three were arguing. The other was just nodding sympathetically with the red-head one. The Weasely, as the girl guessed, it wasn't exactly hard to miss. They didn't even pay mind to the girl that they sat across from. Her hair was nearly black, but it was still distinguishable as brown. That wasn't the only color, though. There were rather obvious black, bright red, and white streaks in her hair as well. Her eyes were dark, with a look between melancholy and menacing. Her slim form was resting against the back of her She surveyed them with her eye lids half closed, in a rather bored manner, then glanced back down at the top of her c.d. Player. Her hand brushed along the rim inconspicuously as she turned down the volume to hear their conversation better.

"Hermione, really, we're allowed to get worked up over Quidditch. We're supposed to," Ron said through gritted teeth, making it quite obvious his patience was waning. Only after he said this did he realize how irrational sounded, then went on to reach the conclusion that he just didn't care.

"Oh please!" Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. Not this again, "Isn't the purpose of sports to bring people together?!" She tried to be reasonable, but it was no use. Maybe she should just give up...or not. It wasn't really her 'thing' to give up, anyway. She would much rather be persistent to the point of irritation to everyone around her.

She already heard them start to mutter things under their breath. These out-loud thoughts ranged from "Complete bullshit" to "She'll never understand Quidditch."

She let out a irritated sigh, then caught sight of the girl across the table from her.

"What is your name?" she asked, surprised she had never seen her. After all, she looked about her own age. Hermione definitely wasn't ignorant enough to not notice another Gryffindor the same year as her for this long.

"Carrie," she replied, not giving any signs that she wanted this not even started conversation to continue. She was in that state of mind where she didn't want to be any part of anything. She would much rather be left alone to herself in her own head. In her head with her music.

She brushed the side of her c.d. player again, not wanting her to know that she had been listening. She supposed it could be considered rude that she was eavesdropping even if their conversation didn't consist of any importance in the least.

"You listen to muggle bands?"Hermione asked, catching the outside edge of the c.d. case sticking out of her bag. Carrie nodded, taking the hint that she wasn't going to be left alone. She just wished this other girl took hints just as easily...

Well, she might as well not be a completely rude. "What's your name again?" she asked, doing her best to make her voice sound sincere in kindness. It didn't completely work. Oh well. At least she tried.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's Hermione," she answered, then turned her attention back to the c.d. case, "I haven't listened to them, but I've heard about them. Are they good?" she asked, trying to get her mind off how pig-headed Ron and Harry could be. Especially Ron.

"Yeah. I guess," she smirked, "I probably wouldn't have assumed you to listen to them, anyway."

"And why not?" Hermione asked, looking not offended, but a little irritated that any assumptions were being passed on her.

Carrie raised her eyebrows,"I just wouldn't have. I don't mean to offend you, you just don't seem the type."

"So, is that based on a stereotype, or do you just enjoy passing judgments?" Hermione asked, her eyes darkening. The look she gave was somewhat like the one she had before she had hit Malfoy...but not quite. What Malfoy had said that day pissed her off much more than what Carrie said.

Carrie pulled off her headphones and laughed derisively. "Both," she began sarcastically, "Because, you know, I really get a kick out of placing labels on people and thinking that is the only way they could possibly act. No. I was making an observation. Sorry if I offended you- but I'd probably actually understand why you were this upset if you did listen to the band and I said that."

Carrie would have gotten up just then and moved down the table, but it was much too close to the time of the feast now. As she glanced around she realized, much to her dismay, that the Great Hall was packed.

Hermione looked around to see Harry and Ron still in deep discussion about Quidditch. "Oh my god," she hissed through her teeth with a trace of exasperation in her voice. " Can't they give it a rest?" she asked rhetorically, more to herself than to Carrie.

"I'll take it that you are talking to yourself," she observed...again. She hoped that this time her observations wouldn't get her hexed. "Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity...or so I've heard," she added as an afterthought.

"Why haven't I ever met you? I've never seen you in school. You look my age but I have never seen you here," Hermione observed, letting her curiosity get the better of her and felt her anger or irritation (whatever it was) begin to ebb away.

"I hope I don't offend you with this, but that's sort of personal. I left school and didn't come back for a few years- that's as far as I'll go." Quite contrary to her statement, her expression didn't look sorry at all. Amused, yes. But most definitely not sorry.

"So wouldn't you be in the year under your age?" Hermione asked, doing her best to not look offended.

"Well that would depend on what level I'm on now, wouldn't it?" she asked, finding a way to say that without sounding like she was boasting or egotistical.

"What year are you?" Hermione asked, ignoring her question. She might as well start small...she usually wasn't one to be nosy (about other people, at least), and rather disliked people who were. She just couldn't help it. This girl practically showed up out of nowhere and was rather secretive. There was obviously something
worth finding out.

"6th," Carrie sighed, knowing that she was not going to get off the hook that easy.

"Yeah, so am I...," she let her voice drift off, trying to think of something else for conversation. Carrie had already caught on she wasn't going to be let out of 'socializing' so she quickly thought of something to say. Anything would do. Anything. Just as long as it didn't have anything to do with herself, she'd be fine. She used the first seemingly pointless topic that popped into her mind.

"So, did you hear the news?" she asked, trying for meaningless conversation.

"I don't know if I know unless you tell me, right?" Hermione laughed, "That was a bit confusing wasn't it?"

Carrie smirked, "Just a bit. No, but there's going to be another Dueling Club. Or so I've heard."

"Hm. Harry will like that- Ron too. Do you like Quidditch?" she asked thinking about the earlier disagreement. Though she didn't really want to think about it, she needed something to talk about. Or she'd just be fuming to herself in her head. And somehow that didn't particularly appeal to her.

Carrie shrugged, "I used to..."

"Well, don't get me wrong, I don't mind watching it, but all the arguing and fights over it are for nothing. They're rather pointless. "

Carrie tried at a good-natured grin, though she didn't feel it. It looked true, but I guess it could be said it didn't reach her eyes. "I guess some people have a warped view for the 'glory of the sport'," she answered, rolling her eyes as she used her fingers as quotes for the last part. The phrase was a bit of a cliche- but she knew that. She opened up her c.d. player and switched the c.d. she was listening to.

Hermione looked at her and smiled a bit in amusement, then looked at the ceiling. This was rather difficult. She never thought that it would be so irritating to talk to someone who just didn't want to talk about themselves. Well...now she knew she'd never be able to be any sort of shrink. Not that she had really been thinking about that career for herself.

"You never told me what your last name was," she stated, more out of observation than anything. The second she saw the other's expression, however, she wish she hadn't ever said anything.

Carrie stiffened and her eyes grew cold, but that was something Hermione could not see. She kept her voice as it had been, or so she tried. "...Smith," she answered, and Hermione could almost automatically tell that her voice wasn't the same. She smiled, almost as if she was trying to reassure Hermione that she hadn't said anything wrong. Or maybe it was out of reassurance for herself, who knew? But it didn't reach her eyes. She put her headphones back on...

Just for the record,
The weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of:
A. Indifference or
B. Disinterest in what the critics say

Carrie smirked. She'd be able to relate to the lyrics, but she was just a bit more than slightly sarcastic.

"Carrie?" Hermione asked, "How do you get that to run here? I read that electrical equipment won't work in areas like this one because of all the magic in the air. It interferes."

The dark haired girl pulled her headphones back off. "That would be because it's not running on electricity. It's running on magic. I charmed it...don't ask how. I don't exactly remember. I was just sort of messing around...now if only I could do the same thing to my mp3 player," she mused, her expression looking thoughtful.

"That has to be a complicated bit of magic," Hermione observed, her voice mildly impressed and her expression equally thoughtful.

"A complicated bit of magic that I can't even remember...," Carrie smiled wryly, "I doubt it, though... and if it was it was purely luck." She cut herself off as she saw Dumbledore take a stand at the head table.

"Welcome to those of you who have just come, and welcome back to those that are returning...," Dumbledore began, and Carrie felt herself drift off and stop listening. She couldn't help it. She felt tired and hungry. How could anyone concentrate through that?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At breakfast Hermione watched Ron and Harry in a heated argument over which Quidditch team would win the next World Cup ("The Chuddley Cannons!" "NO, The Tornadoes!") and Hermione had had it. She got up from her seat and, not meaning to, yelled,
"Could you two just SHUT THE HELL UP?!"

Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth. The motion was done in a rather childish manner which just made her feel more embarrassed. So, all in all, it made her situation feel even worse. She had yelled louder than she meant. Everyone was looking at her (Though Ron was trying, and failing, to stifle his laughter) and she felt incredibly embarrassed, so she went to the library. It wasn't that she wanted to research something or needed an answer. Sometimes the only answer you needed was getting lost in a book. A place to escape from the world. She had to admit that her current problem wasn't even what she'd consider a problem, but she didn't exactly feel great- to put it lightly.

Though Carrie was planning on walking to the library before she heard Hermione shout, seeing the other girl run off there just gave her more incentive to go. She hated drama, but she felt the urge to bask in someone else's self misery over a petty problem. It was actually something she enjoyed to do quite often.

"I went the Weasely's joke shop- who I'm assuming you know, considering you're friends with what I'm also assuming is their brother. Red hair and all that- and saw they have this really nifty hat. It makes your head disappear. I thought that was particularly brilliant. But I think you're in need of one." Carrie flicked her wrist in a bored manner and it appeared on the library table. Hermione glared at her, and Carrie had the grace to look like she felt bad (even if it was farce)"Not the right time?"

"Not the right time...did you just call Ron a 'what'?" Hermione asked, looking slightly offended again. She was almost positive she hadn't heard Carrie wrong. No. She hadn't made a mistake, Carrie had said, "what I'm also assuming is their brother". She couldn't help but rise up in his defense.

"Yep. Not totally sure if I should call him human. His emotional range doesn't go far enough to be considered humanistic...Ah...well...," she shrugged, obviously not disappointed that her attempt at cheering her up didn't work. In truth, she was rather amused at Hermione's irritation. Though she hadn't threatened her yet, and that she found more than slightly disappointing...

Hermione suddenly realized what had happened, which was obviously a bit of a delayed reaction. Her eyes went wide in awe. "How did you make that appear?"

"Wandless magic," she answered, lying smoothly, and giving her a look that her question was possibly one of the less intelligent ones she had heard. After all, it wasn't a complete lie.

"That takes forever to master. It doesn't just fall in your lap," the other stated, and this is where the 'complete lie' bit came in. Carrie had never created the skill. It was just sort of there. She had, however, improved upon it. Though explaining this to Hermione didn't particularly appeal to her. Where the hell do you come from that you don't see anything wrong with telling something about yourself to someone you've only just met? She wanted to ask her. She didn't of course.

Carrie waved her hand again and the hat disappeared. "You ask a lot of questions, don't you? Honestly, I don't know what else to tell you." Once again she had not answered honestly when she had said she was honest. She probably could have gotten away with telling her to 'fuck off', but that would just have made Hermione hate her. Carrie had enough people hate her, and she was getting a bit bored and rather sick of it. But that wasn't it completely. Truth be told, in any other situation she just wouldn't have cared. But here she was, at Hogwarts again, and she needed to prove that she changed. That's what got her. Once again she just left without another word. It was probably the more wise of her to do.

Disclaimer

Lyrics:

Just for the record,
The weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of:
A. Indifference or
B. Disinterest in what the critics say

Taken from:

Panic! at the Disco "London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines"