P
Several wizards sat around a blazing fire drinking huge mugs of coffee and nibbling on
scones discussing events as they had countless newspaper clippings in front of them, books
(many
books), tapes, scrolls of parchment. One of them, with a flowing white beard, was dressed
in a
robe patterned with twinkling moons and stars. His nose was crooked and his eyes a
gleaming
blue behind half-moon spectacles. "I believe we have much to enlighten you on Mr.
Fudge."
The wizards spoke out to a short round looking man who sat across from him. He was on
his
eighth scone piled high with cream and strawberry preserves.
P
"I still can't understand....how possibly..." He looked flustered and speechless, his eyes
disbelieving, "only in a year....how? How Dumbledore?" And then he quickly added, "I am
sorry I didn't trust you when you first told me, tried to warn me...I am very sorry." He
looked
downcast, a sad face reflected in the empty bottom of his mug.
P
"Quite alright," Dumbledore was the name of the wizard with the long beard. "No need to
be
sorry - we were after all on the same side all along. We were both against Voldemort and
now
he has gone for good; the world is at rest again."
P
"I was too stubborn, too worried about myself, so many..so many died. I feel it is all my
fault."
P
"Now, now Fudge. We cannot blame ourselves for what is pure fate. First we must
understand, for you do not fully know the story of what happened. That is why we are here
all
here," he motioned to the other wizards who sat there all looking intent, "to explain and
make
sense of what happened; so that those who died may have their memories live on. These
memories, everything we have found out, have been transferred into this pensieve." He
motioned to a very large stone bowl filled to the brim with a glassy looking silvery mist.
"The
view of one person was not enough to complete the story, but here in this lie all of
them ready to play before our eyes like a picture. Before you, at reach to our very
fingertips, lies love, hate, fear, evil all the simplest of human emotions at their greatest. Yet,
not one man can explain them in their complexity. It is enough to quite overwhelm any
person, no matter how great."
P
There was a run down shack that sat behind a sloped hill; no one would have given a
second
care to it before. The walls were made of a rusting tin, which was bent in at odd places
where
kids threw stones at it for target practice, and bits of graphitti were left wherever it had not
been scrubbed off. This meant they were everywhere. It was the kind of place that you'd
have though would be torn down by now, or knocked down for all that was left of it. No
one
ever expected that someone, a someone who may have seemed insignificant, but a
/I none the less lived there. That someone was sitting in there at that
very
moment. Outwardly he appeared to be nothing except a very old man who was lucky that
he
was still alive. On a closer examination you saw that he had so many wrinkles
running
across his face he rather looked like a roadmap. His eyes were small and beady, like a
rat,
the darkest shade of brown possible before you could just call them black. They made his
pupils look like huge marbles. He was huddled over; his back seemed to be permanently
stuck in the position it was in, for he always walked crouched. The clothes he wore were
as
shabby as those of a house elf; it wouldn't surprise anyone if he was mistaken as one.
There
were holes throughout his oversized, pillow-case-like, shirt that had been patched. The
person doing the job was obviously not very skilled. He sat with his arms wrapped tightly
around his knees in a squat position on sockless feet rocking back and forth endlessly.
There was a rail thin black cat parked beside him.
P
"It's coming!" The words scarcely came out, uttered in a hoarse whisper. "It's coming ain't
it!
And I'm the /I one who knows it. I am. That's right, you and me kitty." He
clutched his cat tighter. The cat hissed angrily and clawed at the man's face, he was so
thin
that the man could have easily crushed him "Now there'll be no time for fightin, cause you
and
me kitty we'll be the only ones left." He stroked it's back trying to calm the cat down. "I
tried
again and again to warn 'em, but no one listened. They laugh and hands me some
money, and tells me to get meself some food. They'll all learn though, yes one day they
will!"
P
Only a few pieces of jagged glass still remained where there had once been a window, and
into them shone the blood red light of day. With unseeing eyes, the man looked up. "It's
time now kitty, soon it'll be warming up and they'll be coming."
P
The sun spread its orange rays over Platform 9 3/4. The Hogwarts Express hadn't arrived
yet
and nor had anyone else for that matter. Wind stirred the branches of nearby trees
swaying slightly but not making a sound.
P
"Bloody hell! I told them it was too early!" The voice was that of quite a tall girl in black
robes and knee high, lace-up boots, extremely large heels weighing them down. This made her stomping
on to
the platform ten times louder. She had long, straight hair without so much as even a hint
of a
curl. Raven colored and swinging in sharp angles not far past her waist. It looked, to say the least, dead. The way it fell over her shoulders and into her eyes, limp and lifeless. Eyes that were glowing, without any color.
P
"No! They had to run off to Paris the both of 'em didn't they? Always going off to
someplace! Last month it was Rome, month before Paraguay. Don't give a crap about me!
Leave me alone, with that idiot of a nurse. Now I'm going to have to wait a whole
five hours...alone!" She began to run off a long list of curse words that a girl her age
shouldn't know. Her pale face went very red, and she plunked down hard on one of the
benches. The girl was Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin about to enter her fifth year at Hogwarts
and very displeased about it. She pulled her carts of luggage nearer afraid that some thief
was lurking nearby. Yes carts; she had so many bags and trunks that they couldn't possibly all fit on one. Somehow she couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching her. With a flick of her hair, she pulled out an old-looking, leather bound book that was entitled "How
to Break into Gringotts (It's not Impossible)!"
P
By the time she had reached page five hundred, a voice interrupted her. "Don't really think you
need
that, Zabini." The drawl was unmistakable, and she looked up into the harsh grey eyes of
Draco Malfoy. He was a Slytherin fifth year, like Blaise, and was for once not flanked
by
his two cronies Crabbe and Goyle. Over the Summer he had grown considerably taller,
and
was hovering about an inch over Blaise. Apparently his parents had dropped him off too,
because they didn't look to be anywhere.
p
"Get away from me Malfoy." She had turned her attention back on her book. Unlike the
other
Slytherins, she didn't get along with him very well. In fact, she didn't get along with anybody.
P
Ignoring her, he sat down next to her managing to sit on her hair as well. Blaise shrieked
loudly and hit him on the shoulder. "Get off my hair you idiot!"
P
"Don't you think it's time you cut it, trying to break some world record are you?"
P
"Well, do you have some premature aging disorder, or do you /I to look like a
fifty
year old man?" Blaise said, remarking on his white blonde hair, and turned back to her
book.
P
Taken aback Draco faked a pout "Why you don't find me attractive--"
P
Blaise cut him off angrily. She didn't like it when people wouldn't leave her alone. Picking
up
the ends of her long robes Blaise got up from the bench and proceeded to walk off the
platform.
P
"Where are you going?" Draco asked, getting up to follow her.
P
"Away from you!" Blaise had turned around to say this, and found that twisting around
suddenly when you're wearing heels is not a bright thing to do. Before she knew it, she had fallen
right into the arms of Draco Malfoy. He had a slight grin on his face. Almost as a reflex,
Blaise
shoved him hard in the ribs with "How to Break into Gringotts" and jumped off the Platform.
She left a gaping Draco, as she crossed the tracks, and walked madly not having any idea
in
the world where she was going.
P
"VIRGINIA WEASLEY! FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT OR WE'RE
GOING
TO BE LATE!" Yelled a short, plump woman up the stairs. For
anyone
who didn't know her it would come as a shock that such a small woman could yell so
loudly.
But Mrs. Weasley was not a timid person by any means.
P
"Yes, mum. Hold on a second please. I just need to-"
P
"We don't have one second!" She pointed furiously at the clock, but it was no use because
the
Weasley's clock didn't actually show time. Four of the arrows (Ron, Fred George, and Mr.
Weasley) were at the spot marked traveling, Ginny's arrow was at the spot marked Home,
and Mrs. Weasley's was at a point that said "seriously annoyed".
P
"Fine!" Ginny muttered under her breath, as she trudged down the stairs, avoiding her
mother's gaze and looking down at the floor embarrassed.
P
When Mrs. Weasley finally managed to see her face, she saw that there was a large glittery
pink smudge on her chin, and her cheeks had large splotches on them. She gave a little
chuckle, and quickly pulled her down the stairs out to the car. "I'll fix that on our way dear,
we really don't have much time." Mr. Weasley had managed to borrow a car from the
Ministry of Magic again this year, after all his Blue Ford Anglia had been destroyed when
Ron and Harry
had taken it for a ride right into the whomping willow (A rather violent tree, that didn't like
anything or anyone coming near it).
P
When Ginny and Mrs. Weasley had climbed in Ron suddenly burst out into a fit of
laughter," Ginny, you weren't trying to put on makeup were you?!" he managed to sputter.
P
Ginny looked down, going even redder than the blush she'd tried to put on...if that was
possible. "Oh shut up, Ron!"
P
"Ron leave your sister alone," came the irritated voice of Mrs. Weasley.
P
"Alright Mum" He said, biting his lip.
P
After a few minutes, Mrs. Weasley had managed to fix the smudged blush and lipstick
Ginny
had applied, leaving her looking older and quite pretty. She smiled at her, wiping away a
stray
tear from her cheek as she realized her daughter was growing up.
P
"Aww Mum, don't start crying on us," piped up George, who had been sitting in the front
seat.
P
"Yeah, we're almost at King's Cross. What would people think?"
P
"Excuse me Professor, surely this is not important, merely the worries of a schoolgirl,
mustn't we stick to the bare facts? And I am not interested in Mr. Malfoy's social life,
otherwise - "The words were spoken by another witch in the huddle. A woman with severe
lines in her face and an equally severe expression. Her black hair was tightly pulled back
into a bun.
P
"Listen Minerva, just listen, and then you will understand." Dumbledore who held a bemused
smile,
as if expecting this, brought up his hand to motion for silence. "If there is one thing you
must
do, it is to listen and believe. Believe even if the strongest urges in your mind tell you not
to if
your heart tells you it is wrong, believe among all else. The story is only harder to accept
if it
has to be told again. Truth is not something that agrees with everyone. I know. Tonight it
must. This is all I ask of you. Let us continue." And at that Minerva McGonagall quieted,
sitting back down in her seat.
P
P
It was getting brighter, and the sunlight beat harshly on the back of Blaise's neck, ignoring
it
she walked on crushing branches, plants, and nearly everything that came into the path of
her enormous boots. The moors of England held some of the most mysterious legends in
the world, of ghosts, and monsters, they were almost unearthly. Although Blaise had been
walking for quite awhile it looked as if she had gotten no where. Forwards, backwards, to
the right and left, lay the same dull scenery of dewy grass and a few trees here and there.
At this rate she was going to miss the Hogwarts Express and on top of that find herself
lost for days. This thought had obviously not crossed her mind. A gathering of trees
became visible on the horizon, and strangely she was compelled to reach it. She took off
at a
run despite that she was exhausted and only minutes before could barely walk. Her heart
was beating in her ears, and her hair fanning behind her like a huge cape. The closer she
came to the trees the farther away from her they moved. She was nearly touching them,
and then they'd shoot back wanting to avoid her.
P
When it felt like she was going to collapse and die right there, she stopped to lean forward -
on none other than a tree from the gathering. It was a mighty willow reaching as a high as
the
clouds. Its long branches, threaded delicately with hundreds of tear drop leaves, brushed
against her shoulder whispering an invitation to come inside. The trees had been
arranged in a circle. Webs of moss spun over the tops. Once inside, she was
overwhelmed with a burst of cool air, relieving to the swirling heat outside.
There were dozens of other
willows similar to the one she had fallen upon, yet a single one of them couldn't be as
great.
A few tall pines also were in the circle, and they all looked largely unfitting to the scene.
The
trees had been gathered around a small pond that lay in the center. Lilies lay on its surface
untouched. Birds flew in through the tree tops looking for a few stray berries or
worms and they all fled within a matter of seconds. There was a quality about the
place that pushed them to leave. This quality had the opposite effect on Blaise. She was up
and about the flowers, humming to herself and twirling in and out of the trees. This
behavior was very new to her, as she always seemed to be in an unpleasant mood.
P
Out of nowhere a single crimson rose petal wafted down from the sky, through the moss
canopy of the trees and into Blaise's cupped hands. She laughed in pleasure as another
and
another flew down. They filled the air with their sweet scent and settled in her hair, her
mouth,
her eyes. She was drinking them in; it was complete and utter ecstasy.
P
The petals pouring down from the clouds were not roses. As one of them stung Blaise in the
eye a small tear drifted down her cheek, running into the petal which melted. All of
them began to melt, running in a thick, sticky liquid. She couldn't stop herself from letting
it
keep pouring into her mouth. /I drop stung. The stench was foul.
P
Achieving a brief
moment of what seemed sanity, Blaise examined the rivers running down her hand.
"Blood."
The word was barely whispered until it became a scream. A scream that hung in the air, as
she clawed at her skin trying to remove the blood that was everywhere; staining her.
IWhy stop? You are enjoying it/I came a voice. A small cry came from Blaise's lips.
IWhy stop/I it repeated. IWHY STOP?! If this is all you want!/I Blaise didn't
understand, not a word, not the blood, not the voice...she was quivering madly. Her body
shook so much that she thought she couldn't ever stop. Trying to steady herself, she
leaned
against the willow that had invited her hear, using all the strength left to block the horrid
voice
from her ears. The moment she had laid a finger on the tree it turned a singed black,
recoiling and twisting, teams of red light escaping from it. She was already screaming at
the trees
and the voice. The blood still stained her hands. Every second it was there it hurt her.
IThe
lake/I. Yes, she remembered there was a lake in the middle of this hell. Running,
crawling,
on her hands and feet she bent over to it brought some water to her mouth with her
hands and dropped it. It was the same; it was all the same, no water lay in that lake. Only
blood. With sobs racking her ribs she fell to the ground clutching her knees and crumpled
into a
ball. The voices spun and spun around her head, still there was nothing she could do about
it.
P
"Blaise! Blaise! God Blaise what's wrong?" A figure stood over her, and for the third time
that
day she looked up into Draco's gray eyes. This time she was so glad to see him, to see
anyone who could make this stop.
P
Tears continued to pour down her face, and her whole body was hurting, in a strangled
voice
she managed to speak. "Make it stop. Draco, please make it stop."
P
"What?" The expression on his face was nothing but confusion. "Make what stop?"
P
Brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen into her teary eyes, she scanned around
her ,
peering into every corner of the gathering to see if it was still there. Then she brought up
her
hands to her face and stared at them, turning them over, looking under her fingernails.
There wasn't a trace of blood of the singed, black, mangled forms of trees. It had all left in
so quickly an instant. "Nothing, nothing at all." As soon as she had said it, Blaise stood
up wiping away the tears that remained, dusted off her robes and pulled out a pocket
mirror to check her hair. She didn't really see herself, didn't really look. Her hand was just held out awkwardly. Going through the motions. "Nothing's wrong."
P
"But...you were..." Draco was even more confused, his eyes narrowing. What had he
seen? Blaise had been lying there, crying her heart out. The image was all very clear and
set
in his mind. What had he expected? Had he thought that she would smile up at him, and tell
him exactly what was wrong, to embrace him and sob into his shoulder, telling him
everything.
Everything that worried her...and then. What was he thinking? Was he mad? He didn't
have
feelings for her, and she didn't have any for him. The Hogwarts Express was leaving, and
he had
better be going. Blaise had already beat him too it. She had cleared a great amount of
distance while he had been thinking; if he didn't hurry up he wasn't likely to even see a
trace
of her.
P
Parents and relatives stood waving, and calling out to the scarlet train as it began to gain
steam, ready to pull out of the station.
P
"Noooo! Wait!!!!" The last of the Weasley family had arrived on the platform red-faced
and gasping for breath. They caught up to the side of the train when a compartment door
flew
open. A girl, with wavy brown hair, sat reading a textbook and a boy with untidy jet black
hair
called out, "Come on Ron! Hurry!"
P
Within a matter of minutes, several trunks had been piled into the now crowded
compartment along with Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry Potter. It was a
wonder that anyone was able to breath let alone move. Fred and George inched their way
toward the door and out into the hall. "See you later!" They called, managing to drop a few
canary creams on their way out. Ron was about to give Ginny a "look", which meant go
away!
She had already left, dragging her trunk, and looked to be in a rush.
P
"Where's she going?" Ron muttered. "Probably gone to get Colin, Dennis, and the rest of
your fan club Harry."
P
"Ron..." Hermione gave him a look.
p
"Oi, Herm, can't I say anything around you?"
P
"Hmmmpppph!" She didn't reply but frowned at him, and stuck her nose back into the fat
textbook, trying to memorize the charms that fifth years were required to learn.
P
The three friends sat in near silence. The only sounds were an occasional "oh!" and "I
knew
that!" from Hermione who seemed amazingly interested over simple spells.
P
"Don't you people talk anymore?" Ron burst out, listening to Hermione exclaim over
schoolwork was starting to make him edgy." Say something...come on! Harry uhhh, how's
Dudley's diet going?"
P
Harry looked up startled, "Errrr, what did you say, Ron?" He had been staring out the
window
drumming his fingers listlessly along the sill. Preoccupied with his own thoughts.
P
"Never mind, I think I'll go and see what Ginny's up to." With a deep sigh of exasperation
he
got to his feet and stalked off. Harry and Hermione weren't the only ones who seemed out
of it
today. As Ron passed by compartment after compartment he heard nothing but a few
short
whispers and in one instance a loud snore. He was about to turn around and head back
when his ear caught the sound of giggles. It was coming from the door down the hall. Ron
didn't know of a spell to aid you in eavesdropping so he had to suffice by pressing his ear
against the door and straining hard to hear.
BLOCKQUOTE
"Come on Ginny tell us!"
P
"Yeah, we promise we'll keep it a secret!"
P
"We won't tell /I else!"
P
"Please, Ginny?"
P
"I'll tell you who I like!"
P
"Besides, you picked truth, so you /i to tell!"
P
"Oh, but do you really want to know?"
/BLOCKQUOTE
So that's where she'd went. Ron recognized the other voices as that of Lavender Brown
and
Parvati Patil. They too were Gryffindor fifth years. And there was one other person...it
must
have been Padma, Parvati's twin sister. Ron had taken her out to the Yule Ball last year,
and
had well remembered her annoyed complaints as she'd tried to get him to dance. He
already
knew who Ginny liked - Harry of course. Didn't everyone know that? He listened on
anyway,
pressing his ear harder to the door.
P
Four girls sat in compartment 131. Three of them bent over in suspense, and one of them
looking as if she had a very bad stomach ache. Two of the girls were identical and sat on
either
side of the girl with wispy locks of light brown hair that fell to her shoulder, they were twins
of
course. Parvati and Padma Patil. Lavender, the girl sitting in the middle, was their best
friend.
And Ginny was the girl who sat looking sick.
P
Ginny had reluctantly accepted to play truth or dare with Lavender, Parvati, and Padma. It
was a muggle game, Lavender had said, she'd learned it from one of her older cousins
over
the summer. Curse the muggle that made it up! She had been sitting for the past few
minutes, her head down, refusing to say who she fancied. She nervously wound one of her
red curls round and round her finger, managing to almost twist it into a knot as the other
girls
continued to pester her. "If I tell you," she measured out her words long and carefully,
"do
you promise you won't laugh? Promise? Promise you won't think I'm absolutely mad?"
She
bit her lip. Why had she been so stupid as to pick truth? It was awful, she couldn't keep a
secret, even about her self, for the shortest amount of time.
P
"Of course we won't!" All three voices chorused as they leaned in eagerly to hear Ginny's
answer.
P
"What year is he in?" Parvati interrupted, she wasn't one to wait.
P
"He's a fifth year like you guys."
P
"Ooooooh I didn't know Ginny liked older guys!" Padma squealed.
P
"Do we know him?" Parvati continued.
P
"Yeah, you sure do, a lot of people know him." She said the last bit with a hint of sarcasm
in
her voice. A lot of people may have known him but that didn't necessarily mean he was what you would
describe as popular.
P
"Oooooooh I think I know who it is!" Padma shouted out, she smiled to herself, and hid her
face in her hands.
P
"Really? Trust me, it's not who you think. I'm sure." Ginny twitched, wringing her hands,
what would they say when they found out her secret?
P
"Is he on one of the Quidditch teams?" Parvati too looked as if she knew who it was.
P
"Yes," then she quickly added," there are a lot of people who play Quidditch though."
P
"I knew it!" She exchanged a look with her sister Padma, but Lavender still held a look of
confusion; she had no idea who Ginny was talking about.
P
"What house is he in?" Parvati had stopped with her mad rush of firing questions, and held
a
more confident look in her eyes.
P
"I don't think you want to know."
P
Realizing to an extent what Ginny had implied, Lavender raised her eyebrows and
gasped," You don't mean...." Her huge pale eyes, that seemed to already pop out
drastically from her face,
grew wider giving her the look of a fish.
P
"Yeah he's in Slytherin."
P
There was a look of surprise that spread over the three of them. This was obviously not
what
Parvati or Padma had expected.
P
"Blonde or Brunette, or redhead?" Parvati added the last after glancing Ginny's hair.
P
"Blonde, verrry blonde."
P
"Oooooooh Ginny likes blondes!"
P
"Shut up Padma!"
P
"Let's see. He's a Slytherin fifth year who plays Quidditch. Blonde. And a lot of people
know who he is. It must be...ummm." Parvati wrinkled her forehead, wracking her mind
trying to think of names. "It's not Marcus Flint, he's too old, and most of the players are...OH!"
She let out a scream and sat in her chair aghast, the others caught on. This time their
faces
showed even stronger expressions of wonder.
P
"You mean it's!--" They all blurted out at once.
P
Ginny sat red as a tomato; it was no use they already knew. "Well you guessed it, I have a
crush on Draco Malfoy."
P
A huge crash thundered, as the door of the compartment fell open, a tall red headed boy
falling
in with it. Ron stood there, his mouth formed into a huge "O", frozen in shock.
P
"OH MY GOD! Ron how long were you standing there? How long?! What did you hear?!
Ohh. RON!" Ginny was now too screaming, her voice so loud and shrill that the glass on
the
windows trembled. "Ron what did you hear?!" She didn't have to wait for a reply, she
could
tell from his face that he knew. Her life was over; it was official. Her brother knew and
now
he would tell everyone. Not that Lavender, Parvati, and Padma eventually would say
something. They couldn't keep shut for five minutes. Somehow this seemed ten times
worse,
almost as bad as Draco himself falling in.
P
"Like...Malfoy......enemy...how could you....Malfoy?!...what would Mum say...or Fred and
George...Malfoy?....you like Malfoy?!" Ron was sputtering, looking quite silly, drawing out
his
words and the spaces that followed. He eventually gained back enough sanity to form
sentences. "You gave up Harry for that dirty, foul, ugly, EVIL bastard!" Ron was huffing
and
no one would have been surprised if right then steam started pouring from his ears.
P
"Don't you ever call him that! Ever!" Ginny slapped him hard across the face, with all the
strength she could manage, her hand leaving a stinging red mark. "I hate you Ron! I hate
you!" Stomping, she fled the room out into the corridor.
P
"Why did you go and say that? Look what you've done!" Parvati was scowling at him, and
barely held back kicking him in the shins.
P
"Yeah Ron, you have to go and ruin everything!" Lavender went out the door following
her.
P
"She's your sister too!" Padma turned, and joined the two slamming the door right in his
face.
P
After all they had missed a chance at some major gossip - they needed details.
P
"What's wrong with them? Was it something I said, maybe it's my hair? Why can't I ever
say
anything right? Girls, they don't make any sense." Shaking his head with
bewilderment,
he left the room. Hermione and Harry ought to wake up when he told them this.
P
"Almost there!" Trudging heavily, a small boy with thin brown hair prompted his dog to
move on. His mother had told him to take it out for a walk, and he'd decided to take a look
at the old lean-to shed near the train tracks. Reaching out a hand to wipe the beads of
perspiration
off his brow, he caught a glimpse of green in the distance. He didn't need to tell his dog to
hurry
up, he was barking madly, his mouth foaming, and had taken to a fast running pace. He
had
to hasten to keep up with him, or he would end up being dragged along in the mud.
IWhat
was wrong? Why, all of a sudden, had he gotten so excited/I? Just as the boy was about
to
try and stop his dog from running further, something passed in front of them. A black cat,
it's
fur sleek and shining with peculiar gray eyes was walking in their direction, away from
where
the flash of green light had happened, away from the run down shed. "So that's what this
is,
really all over a stupid cat. Come one, we better get home, I don't want mom yelling at
me for
being late on my first day back at school. Come on!" The dog paused, fixated at the spot,
unwilling to get up. "Come on! I have to go, now!" Scolding him the boy picked him up by
the
collar, and tried to drag him backward. The dog was much too large, and he had to stop to
catch his breath. Silently, the dog rose from his paws and walked back, seeming to forget
his
need to stay there. I What was that all about?/I But the boy didn't have time to
dwell
on the subject, his mind never wanted to stay on one thing for very long. II wonder
what
the new teacher's going to be likeP
"Ron, are you absolutely sure that-"
P
"Yes, Hermione I'm sure! I heard the whole thing, she distinctly had said Malfoy. I
wouldn't
make something like that up. I'm not /I sick!" Ron had been trying to explain
the
scene he'd overheard.
P
"Well, you shouldn't have been listening in on their conversation! That's very rude Ron!"
Hermione was frowning at him. Ron had gotten used to that; everyone was frowning at
him today.
P
"I didn't mean to. I was walking past when I heard Ginny, and I couldn't have walked
in
on them. Then I wouldn't have heard anything. Wait, I wish I had walked away. I really
didn't
need to hear that."
P
"You shouldn't have said all those things about him. Even though I do think he's a..."
Hermione
paused, not wanting to say the word. "Well, anyway, it really wasn't very nice of you to say
that. Ginny might be - a bit delusional on her part. I'm sure she has a very good
explanation
for it."
P
"So you're saying she's off her rocker? That's not too hard to believe."
P
"Ron! You know that is not what I meant! It's that Ginny might not know how much of a
git
Malfoy is. Maybe I should talk to her."
P
"No, then she'll get even more mad at me. She already hates me you know. She'll think
I've
told the world."
P
"Are you sure, because she might need someone to explain her feelings to."
P
"If you want to then go ahead."
P
"You're not being very supportive!"
P
"Would you two stop arguing?" Harry had decided to join in on the conversation. "If Ginny
likes Malfoy, well that's her business."
P
"I would have thought you, of all people, would be on my side! Come on Harry, he's your
enemy!" Ron obviously felt that now both his friends were against him.
P
"I'm not on anybody's side. I said that you should stop arguing. Malfoy isn't worth you
two
getting mad at each other."
P
With sighs from both sides, Hermione and Ron reluctantly settled down, and tried to talk in
more 'civil' tones. And Hermione came to the decision that she was going to try and talk to
Ginny. So she set off to find compartment number 131.
P
Dozens of pumpkin-shaped carriages were pulled up outside, glittering with an icy blue hue,
their invisible coachmen waiting for passengers. The moon's soft glow wavered over the
scene, making the drops of dew resting in the grass sparkle like a million diamonds. It
wasn't
the set for Cinderella, but the lawn outside Hogwarts, the coaches were ready to take
students
to the castle. Blaise stepped into the first one that she saw, rain was pouring down in
heavy
sheets and she was eager to get out of it. The carriage was in fact not empty, to her
discontent, and to make matters worse she had once again run into Malfoy. She would
have
liked very much to slam the door, turn around and find another carriage. It had already
started moving when she stepped inside, the door blown shut by the wind. IToday is
definitely not my day./I Reluctantly she sat down next to Goyle, afraid that if the
carriage
gave as much as a jerk he would fall and crush her. Well it was better to be dead, than to
endure sitting next to Malfoy, she thought.
P
"Errr who are you?" Goyle who had been digging in his ear, gave a grunt, and stared
incredously at Blaise. Dull as he was, he was able to point out few faces outside the circle of Draco's enemies and confidences. For these had been drilled senseless into his memory.
P
"Blaise Zabini." She muttered. Nobody knew her, then? Not even in her own house!
P
"Yur very purety." Goyle was staring at her, a small drip of drool coming out of the left
side
of his mouth.
P
The first thought that came into her head was something along the lines of, 'EWWWW! I do not want that slimy brute
anywhere near me!' She didn't say that of course, those two were dangerous. It was best
not
to cross them. "Thanks, I guess." It was hard to ignore that stupid smirk on Malfoy's face
that
appeared when he had said that.
P
"Are you alright now Blaise?"
P
"Yes." Her answer was short and cold. She had waited for that hint of sarcasm to start
creeping back into his voice. He was probably going to tell all of Slytherin about how she
had
been crying. It would completely ruin her reputation, not that she cared. Of course. Why would she? She
didn't
give a damn about the whole lot. She was Blaise Zabini after all and she didn't need
anyone.
P
The first years quickly pulled their cloaks over their heads, crouching down as they
entered
the great hall. Their upturned faces filled with a mix of confusion and fascination. "It's
raining,
it is! Look! Look! But why can't I feel it? I'm sure it's raining." A pudgy little girl, not more
than four feet tall pointed at the ceiling. Others followed suit, all looking up at the ceiling,
all
exclaiming until Professor McGonagall settled to explain to them.
P
"The ceiling is only enchanted to look like the sky outside; you are not going to get wet!
Come, come there is much to do." She shooed them ahead, walking until they approached
a
great stool, and on top sat the sorting hat. Looking as lively as one could who is patched
and
frayed everywhere possible.
I
"Four Houses where your fate may lay
BR
Four founders start them all
BR
'Tis I who choose your destiny
BR
Cross me and you will fall"
P
Rowena shone above the rest
BR
For her brilliant mind
BR
Only witty will pass her test
BR
Ravenclaw are your kind......"
/BLOCKQUOTE
Hermione, Ron, and Harry watched over the first years intently. Clapping every time
someone
was sorted into Gryffindor. A few seats down, Ginny sat very busy, in thought that is. And
in
watching a particular person. She found it very hard to drop her gaze from the Slytherin
table, but had to avert it every so often; incase. She didn't want anyone to know what
she
was doing, and she had better not let Ron catch on. He was bound to yell at her right
across
the table.
P
"Hullo, my name's Jeanette." A small girl was looking at her with hopeful cornflower blue
eyes and a bright smile as she held out a hand. Her straw colored hair was tied in two
loose
pigtails and her long bangs kept falling in her eyes. Her robes were so large, that it
wouldn't
be a wonder if they swallowed her up any moment. She had chosen to take the empty
seat
opposite Ginny. And she looked very scared indeed.
P
"Hi, I'm Ginny, welcome to Hogwarts. I'm glad you got into Gryffindor." She gave her a
weak
smile and shook her hand gently, she wasn't very good at starting up a conversation.
P
"Is it, alright that I sit here. Do you want me to move? You probably don't want to sit next
to
a first year? Am I annoying you? I'm probably talking too much - I always talk too much.
I'm sorry. Oh I better stop talking now. I'll go. I'm really sorry I bothered you." She
talked very quickly, her gaze kept to the floor as she barely even whispered her words.
P
"What?" It took Ginny some time to sort out Jeanette's words. "No, no it's alright. Just sit.
It's ok." Ginny motioned awkwardly with her hands.
P
"Can I tell you something?"
P
"Sure what is it?"
P
"I'm really scared; I don't know anything about magic. I don't know anything about
anything,
and I don't have any friends here. "
P
"Well when I first came here I was sort of shy too, Hogwarts is really big, and sometimes
all
the hallways can be confusing, but you'll get used to it. I can help you." Ginny had never
met
someone who looked so frightened, except maybe Neville.
P
"Thanks." The little girl gave her a true smile, her face beaming.
P
Blaise sat up with a sudden jerk of movement. She couldn't sleep. Not now at least. She
had
been tossing and turning for what seemed like hours. She had shut her eyes and tried to
bring her breathing to a normal pattern, tried to clear all thoughts out of her mind.
Thinking too
much was bad. Thinking made you worry, it kept you awake. The sheets only seemed to
suffocate her, and the room came up with an acute shock of heat. Hot beads of sweat
clung to her dark brows. "Surprising for a cold dungeon" she thought. "No use staying
here, might as
well go exploring." Her eyes began to glow with a nonsensical even mad light a half smile
twitching on her red lips, perhaps that's what staying up late hours did to you. It drove you
mad. With a soft sigh, and careful not to stir the other girls in her dormitory, Blaise threw
back the thick green covers and stepped barefoot onto the icy stone. She didn't recoil, or
draw back in a shiver, but simply walked on into the darkness. She knew exactly where to
turn,
where to avoid a step, the place had been imprinted into her mind after all these years.
Huge
portraits, their frames done in ornate swirls of bronzing silver, hung among the walls. The
emblem of Slytherin portrayed on a silk banner wafting down from the ceiling, the serpents
glittering slits of eyes piercing. There was not a single soul stirring in the common room,
and
the dead silence further dramatized your stereotypical story book dark dungeon. She
fought
down the urge to snigger loudly, it would echo a million times bouncing off the walls...and
wake everyone. Peeves might even fly down from wherever he happened to be at the
moment, to
see who was enjoying themselves at this time of night, and find some way to stop it. She
had
remembered to pick up her wand off the side table, and whispered "Lumos." A small orb of
light burst out of the tip, ruining the darkness. She walked silently through the portrait
hole,
ignoring the fact that her feet were bare and that if anyone saw her she would surely be in
trouble. And the first day at Hogwarts too! What a shame! Blaise often did things on a spur,
because she found again that she didn't know where she was going. She was simply
walking,
an alternative to her sleepless rest. And, maybe if she was lucky, she might come
upon
something interesting.
P
Someone else was awake that night. Hermione sat, a white feathered quill dipped in
scarlet
ink clutched in her hand, scribbling away in an indigo book. She had been keeping the
book
for the past two years, a diary yes she had to admit. She resulted, like other teenage girls
to
spilling out her silly thoughts onto paper for resolution. The soft scratching sound her quill
made, and the large loopy letters filling up the page gave her a feeling a satisfaction:
I
September 1st
BR
First day back at Hogwarts!
BR
Dear journal,
BR
Today was not quite what I expected. Nothing largely important happened, but all the
same
something was off. The Hogwarts Express came on schedule, there was no delay. No derail
by dementors. The feast was the same brilliant set up as always, the house elves have
not given up their work! There was some sort of, depressing feeling to it. Harry did
nothing but
stare out the window, a blank expression on his face. Ron was as usual irritable. And not
even Malfoy came to interrupt the gloom. I know we are going through a terrible time, and
Harry must be living every second in...oh how stupid am I? To worry about myself and
such
trivial matters when there are lives at stake here! Hermione you are no fool. Of course
everyone would be naturally sad, that is all you can expect isn't it? But the dark side will
not win, I
am sure of that. As Dumbledore said, "There will be many times when you will have to
choose between what is easy and what is right. For what is easy is not often right." Maybe
this is they trying part, we must all have confidence. Never give up. Harry and Ron will be
better
tomorrow I'm sure.
BR
And Ginny, well that problem is different. I didn't get a chance to talk to her today. Do
you
know journal that she has fallen for Malfoy, of all people? Ron nearly had quite a fit on the
train this morning. Poor Ginny, I only wonder what she's feeling. This is only a stage
right?
It's not like she loves him of course, she's only fourteen and well he's Malfoy. I can't make
assumptions until I talk to her. And now it's getting late, and I need to get some sleep if
I'm
going to be awake in class tomorrow.
/CENTER
Several wizards sat around a blazing fire drinking huge mugs of coffee and nibbling on
scones discussing events as they had countless newspaper clippings in front of them, books
(many
books), tapes, scrolls of parchment. One of them, with a flowing white beard, was dressed
in a
robe patterned with twinkling moons and stars. His nose was crooked and his eyes a
gleaming
blue behind half-moon spectacles. "I believe we have much to enlighten you on Mr.
Fudge."
The wizards spoke out to a short round looking man who sat across from him. He was on
his
eighth scone piled high with cream and strawberry preserves.
P
"I still can't understand....how possibly..." He looked flustered and speechless, his eyes
disbelieving, "only in a year....how? How Dumbledore?" And then he quickly added, "I am
sorry I didn't trust you when you first told me, tried to warn me...I am very sorry." He
looked
downcast, a sad face reflected in the empty bottom of his mug.
P
"Quite alright," Dumbledore was the name of the wizard with the long beard. "No need to
be
sorry - we were after all on the same side all along. We were both against Voldemort and
now
he has gone for good; the world is at rest again."
P
"I was too stubborn, too worried about myself, so many..so many died. I feel it is all my
fault."
P
"Now, now Fudge. We cannot blame ourselves for what is pure fate. First we must
understand, for you do not fully know the story of what happened. That is why we are here
all
here," he motioned to the other wizards who sat there all looking intent, "to explain and
make
sense of what happened; so that those who died may have their memories live on. These
memories, everything we have found out, have been transferred into this pensieve." He
motioned to a very large stone bowl filled to the brim with a glassy looking silvery mist.
"The
view of one person was not enough to complete the story, but here in this lie all of
them ready to play before our eyes like a picture. Before you, at reach to our very
fingertips, lies love, hate, fear, evil all the simplest of human emotions at their greatest. Yet,
not one man can explain them in their complexity. It is enough to quite overwhelm any
person, no matter how great."
P
There was a run down shack that sat behind a sloped hill; no one would have given a
second
care to it before. The walls were made of a rusting tin, which was bent in at odd places
where
kids threw stones at it for target practice, and bits of graphitti were left wherever it had not
been scrubbed off. This meant they were everywhere. It was the kind of place that you'd
have though would be torn down by now, or knocked down for all that was left of it. No
one
ever expected that someone, a someone who may have seemed insignificant, but a
/I none the less lived there. That someone was sitting in there at that
very
moment. Outwardly he appeared to be nothing except a very old man who was lucky that
he
was still alive. On a closer examination you saw that he had so many wrinkles
running
across his face he rather looked like a roadmap. His eyes were small and beady, like a
rat,
the darkest shade of brown possible before you could just call them black. They made his
pupils look like huge marbles. He was huddled over; his back seemed to be permanently
stuck in the position it was in, for he always walked crouched. The clothes he wore were
as
shabby as those of a house elf; it wouldn't surprise anyone if he was mistaken as one.
There
were holes throughout his oversized, pillow-case-like, shirt that had been patched. The
person doing the job was obviously not very skilled. He sat with his arms wrapped tightly
around his knees in a squat position on sockless feet rocking back and forth endlessly.
There was a rail thin black cat parked beside him.
P
"It's coming!" The words scarcely came out, uttered in a hoarse whisper. "It's coming ain't
it!
And I'm the /I one who knows it. I am. That's right, you and me kitty." He
clutched his cat tighter. The cat hissed angrily and clawed at the man's face, he was so
thin
that the man could have easily crushed him "Now there'll be no time for fightin, cause you
and
me kitty we'll be the only ones left." He stroked it's back trying to calm the cat down. "I
tried
again and again to warn 'em, but no one listened. They laugh and hands me some
money, and tells me to get meself some food. They'll all learn though, yes one day they
will!"
P
Only a few pieces of jagged glass still remained where there had once been a window, and
into them shone the blood red light of day. With unseeing eyes, the man looked up. "It's
time now kitty, soon it'll be warming up and they'll be coming."
P
The sun spread its orange rays over Platform 9 3/4. The Hogwarts Express hadn't arrived
yet
and nor had anyone else for that matter. Wind stirred the branches of nearby trees
swaying slightly but not making a sound.
P
"Bloody hell! I told them it was too early!" The voice was that of quite a tall girl in black
robes and knee high, lace-up boots, extremely large heels weighing them down. This made her stomping
on to
the platform ten times louder. She had long, straight hair without so much as even a hint
of a
curl. Raven colored and swinging in sharp angles not far past her waist. It looked, to say the least, dead. The way it fell over her shoulders and into her eyes, limp and lifeless. Eyes that were glowing, without any color.
P
"No! They had to run off to Paris the both of 'em didn't they? Always going off to
someplace! Last month it was Rome, month before Paraguay. Don't give a crap about me!
Leave me alone, with that idiot of a nurse. Now I'm going to have to wait a whole
five hours...alone!" She began to run off a long list of curse words that a girl her age
shouldn't know. Her pale face went very red, and she plunked down hard on one of the
benches. The girl was Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin about to enter her fifth year at Hogwarts
and very displeased about it. She pulled her carts of luggage nearer afraid that some thief
was lurking nearby. Yes carts; she had so many bags and trunks that they couldn't possibly all fit on one. Somehow she couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching her. With a flick of her hair, she pulled out an old-looking, leather bound book that was entitled "How
to Break into Gringotts (It's not Impossible)!"
P
By the time she had reached page five hundred, a voice interrupted her. "Don't really think you
need
that, Zabini." The drawl was unmistakable, and she looked up into the harsh grey eyes of
Draco Malfoy. He was a Slytherin fifth year, like Blaise, and was for once not flanked
by
his two cronies Crabbe and Goyle. Over the Summer he had grown considerably taller,
and
was hovering about an inch over Blaise. Apparently his parents had dropped him off too,
because they didn't look to be anywhere.
p
"Get away from me Malfoy." She had turned her attention back on her book. Unlike the
other
Slytherins, she didn't get along with him very well. In fact, she didn't get along with anybody.
P
Ignoring her, he sat down next to her managing to sit on her hair as well. Blaise shrieked
loudly and hit him on the shoulder. "Get off my hair you idiot!"
P
"Don't you think it's time you cut it, trying to break some world record are you?"
P
"Well, do you have some premature aging disorder, or do you /I to look like a
fifty
year old man?" Blaise said, remarking on his white blonde hair, and turned back to her
book.
P
Taken aback Draco faked a pout "Why you don't find me attractive--"
P
Blaise cut him off angrily. She didn't like it when people wouldn't leave her alone. Picking
up
the ends of her long robes Blaise got up from the bench and proceeded to walk off the
platform.
P
"Where are you going?" Draco asked, getting up to follow her.
P
"Away from you!" Blaise had turned around to say this, and found that twisting around
suddenly when you're wearing heels is not a bright thing to do. Before she knew it, she had fallen
right into the arms of Draco Malfoy. He had a slight grin on his face. Almost as a reflex,
Blaise
shoved him hard in the ribs with "How to Break into Gringotts" and jumped off the Platform.
She left a gaping Draco, as she crossed the tracks, and walked madly not having any idea
in
the world where she was going.
P
"VIRGINIA WEASLEY! FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT OR WE'RE
GOING
TO BE LATE!" Yelled a short, plump woman up the stairs. For
anyone
who didn't know her it would come as a shock that such a small woman could yell so
loudly.
But Mrs. Weasley was not a timid person by any means.
P
"Yes, mum. Hold on a second please. I just need to-"
P
"We don't have one second!" She pointed furiously at the clock, but it was no use because
the
Weasley's clock didn't actually show time. Four of the arrows (Ron, Fred George, and Mr.
Weasley) were at the spot marked traveling, Ginny's arrow was at the spot marked Home,
and Mrs. Weasley's was at a point that said "seriously annoyed".
P
"Fine!" Ginny muttered under her breath, as she trudged down the stairs, avoiding her
mother's gaze and looking down at the floor embarrassed.
P
When Mrs. Weasley finally managed to see her face, she saw that there was a large glittery
pink smudge on her chin, and her cheeks had large splotches on them. She gave a little
chuckle, and quickly pulled her down the stairs out to the car. "I'll fix that on our way dear,
we really don't have much time." Mr. Weasley had managed to borrow a car from the
Ministry of Magic again this year, after all his Blue Ford Anglia had been destroyed when
Ron and Harry
had taken it for a ride right into the whomping willow (A rather violent tree, that didn't like
anything or anyone coming near it).
P
When Ginny and Mrs. Weasley had climbed in Ron suddenly burst out into a fit of
laughter," Ginny, you weren't trying to put on makeup were you?!" he managed to sputter.
P
Ginny looked down, going even redder than the blush she'd tried to put on...if that was
possible. "Oh shut up, Ron!"
P
"Ron leave your sister alone," came the irritated voice of Mrs. Weasley.
P
"Alright Mum" He said, biting his lip.
P
After a few minutes, Mrs. Weasley had managed to fix the smudged blush and lipstick
Ginny
had applied, leaving her looking older and quite pretty. She smiled at her, wiping away a
stray
tear from her cheek as she realized her daughter was growing up.
P
"Aww Mum, don't start crying on us," piped up George, who had been sitting in the front
seat.
P
"Yeah, we're almost at King's Cross. What would people think?"
P
"Excuse me Professor, surely this is not important, merely the worries of a schoolgirl,
mustn't we stick to the bare facts? And I am not interested in Mr. Malfoy's social life,
otherwise - "The words were spoken by another witch in the huddle. A woman with severe
lines in her face and an equally severe expression. Her black hair was tightly pulled back
into a bun.
P
"Listen Minerva, just listen, and then you will understand." Dumbledore who held a bemused
smile,
as if expecting this, brought up his hand to motion for silence. "If there is one thing you
must
do, it is to listen and believe. Believe even if the strongest urges in your mind tell you not
to if
your heart tells you it is wrong, believe among all else. The story is only harder to accept
if it
has to be told again. Truth is not something that agrees with everyone. I know. Tonight it
must. This is all I ask of you. Let us continue." And at that Minerva McGonagall quieted,
sitting back down in her seat.
P
P
It was getting brighter, and the sunlight beat harshly on the back of Blaise's neck, ignoring
it
she walked on crushing branches, plants, and nearly everything that came into the path of
her enormous boots. The moors of England held some of the most mysterious legends in
the world, of ghosts, and monsters, they were almost unearthly. Although Blaise had been
walking for quite awhile it looked as if she had gotten no where. Forwards, backwards, to
the right and left, lay the same dull scenery of dewy grass and a few trees here and there.
At this rate she was going to miss the Hogwarts Express and on top of that find herself
lost for days. This thought had obviously not crossed her mind. A gathering of trees
became visible on the horizon, and strangely she was compelled to reach it. She took off
at a
run despite that she was exhausted and only minutes before could barely walk. Her heart
was beating in her ears, and her hair fanning behind her like a huge cape. The closer she
came to the trees the farther away from her they moved. She was nearly touching them,
and then they'd shoot back wanting to avoid her.
P
When it felt like she was going to collapse and die right there, she stopped to lean forward -
on none other than a tree from the gathering. It was a mighty willow reaching as a high as
the
clouds. Its long branches, threaded delicately with hundreds of tear drop leaves, brushed
against her shoulder whispering an invitation to come inside. The trees had been
arranged in a circle. Webs of moss spun over the tops. Once inside, she was
overwhelmed with a burst of cool air, relieving to the swirling heat outside.
There were dozens of other
willows similar to the one she had fallen upon, yet a single one of them couldn't be as
great.
A few tall pines also were in the circle, and they all looked largely unfitting to the scene.
The
trees had been gathered around a small pond that lay in the center. Lilies lay on its surface
untouched. Birds flew in through the tree tops looking for a few stray berries or
worms and they all fled within a matter of seconds. There was a quality about the
place that pushed them to leave. This quality had the opposite effect on Blaise. She was up
and about the flowers, humming to herself and twirling in and out of the trees. This
behavior was very new to her, as she always seemed to be in an unpleasant mood.
P
Out of nowhere a single crimson rose petal wafted down from the sky, through the moss
canopy of the trees and into Blaise's cupped hands. She laughed in pleasure as another
and
another flew down. They filled the air with their sweet scent and settled in her hair, her
mouth,
her eyes. She was drinking them in; it was complete and utter ecstasy.
P
The petals pouring down from the clouds were not roses. As one of them stung Blaise in the
eye a small tear drifted down her cheek, running into the petal which melted. All of
them began to melt, running in a thick, sticky liquid. She couldn't stop herself from letting
it
keep pouring into her mouth. /I drop stung. The stench was foul.
P
Achieving a brief
moment of what seemed sanity, Blaise examined the rivers running down her hand.
"Blood."
The word was barely whispered until it became a scream. A scream that hung in the air, as
she clawed at her skin trying to remove the blood that was everywhere; staining her.
IWhy stop? You are enjoying it/I came a voice. A small cry came from Blaise's lips.
IWhy stop/I it repeated. IWHY STOP?! If this is all you want!/I Blaise didn't
understand, not a word, not the blood, not the voice...she was quivering madly. Her body
shook so much that she thought she couldn't ever stop. Trying to steady herself, she
leaned
against the willow that had invited her hear, using all the strength left to block the horrid
voice
from her ears. The moment she had laid a finger on the tree it turned a singed black,
recoiling and twisting, teams of red light escaping from it. She was already screaming at
the trees
and the voice. The blood still stained her hands. Every second it was there it hurt her.
IThe
lake/I. Yes, she remembered there was a lake in the middle of this hell. Running,
crawling,
on her hands and feet she bent over to it brought some water to her mouth with her
hands and dropped it. It was the same; it was all the same, no water lay in that lake. Only
blood. With sobs racking her ribs she fell to the ground clutching her knees and crumpled
into a
ball. The voices spun and spun around her head, still there was nothing she could do about
it.
P
"Blaise! Blaise! God Blaise what's wrong?" A figure stood over her, and for the third time
that
day she looked up into Draco's gray eyes. This time she was so glad to see him, to see
anyone who could make this stop.
P
Tears continued to pour down her face, and her whole body was hurting, in a strangled
voice
she managed to speak. "Make it stop. Draco, please make it stop."
P
"What?" The expression on his face was nothing but confusion. "Make what stop?"
P
Brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen into her teary eyes, she scanned around
her ,
peering into every corner of the gathering to see if it was still there. Then she brought up
her
hands to her face and stared at them, turning them over, looking under her fingernails.
There wasn't a trace of blood of the singed, black, mangled forms of trees. It had all left in
so quickly an instant. "Nothing, nothing at all." As soon as she had said it, Blaise stood
up wiping away the tears that remained, dusted off her robes and pulled out a pocket
mirror to check her hair. She didn't really see herself, didn't really look. Her hand was just held out awkwardly. Going through the motions. "Nothing's wrong."
P
"But...you were..." Draco was even more confused, his eyes narrowing. What had he
seen? Blaise had been lying there, crying her heart out. The image was all very clear and
set
in his mind. What had he expected? Had he thought that she would smile up at him, and tell
him exactly what was wrong, to embrace him and sob into his shoulder, telling him
everything.
Everything that worried her...and then. What was he thinking? Was he mad? He didn't
have
feelings for her, and she didn't have any for him. The Hogwarts Express was leaving, and
he had
better be going. Blaise had already beat him too it. She had cleared a great amount of
distance while he had been thinking; if he didn't hurry up he wasn't likely to even see a
trace
of her.
P
Parents and relatives stood waving, and calling out to the scarlet train as it began to gain
steam, ready to pull out of the station.
P
"Noooo! Wait!!!!" The last of the Weasley family had arrived on the platform red-faced
and gasping for breath. They caught up to the side of the train when a compartment door
flew
open. A girl, with wavy brown hair, sat reading a textbook and a boy with untidy jet black
hair
called out, "Come on Ron! Hurry!"
P
Within a matter of minutes, several trunks had been piled into the now crowded
compartment along with Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry Potter. It was a
wonder that anyone was able to breath let alone move. Fred and George inched their way
toward the door and out into the hall. "See you later!" They called, managing to drop a few
canary creams on their way out. Ron was about to give Ginny a "look", which meant go
away!
She had already left, dragging her trunk, and looked to be in a rush.
P
"Where's she going?" Ron muttered. "Probably gone to get Colin, Dennis, and the rest of
your fan club Harry."
P
"Ron..." Hermione gave him a look.
p
"Oi, Herm, can't I say anything around you?"
P
"Hmmmpppph!" She didn't reply but frowned at him, and stuck her nose back into the fat
textbook, trying to memorize the charms that fifth years were required to learn.
P
The three friends sat in near silence. The only sounds were an occasional "oh!" and "I
knew
that!" from Hermione who seemed amazingly interested over simple spells.
P
"Don't you people talk anymore?" Ron burst out, listening to Hermione exclaim over
schoolwork was starting to make him edgy." Say something...come on! Harry uhhh, how's
Dudley's diet going?"
P
Harry looked up startled, "Errrr, what did you say, Ron?" He had been staring out the
window
drumming his fingers listlessly along the sill. Preoccupied with his own thoughts.
P
"Never mind, I think I'll go and see what Ginny's up to." With a deep sigh of exasperation
he
got to his feet and stalked off. Harry and Hermione weren't the only ones who seemed out
of it
today. As Ron passed by compartment after compartment he heard nothing but a few
short
whispers and in one instance a loud snore. He was about to turn around and head back
when his ear caught the sound of giggles. It was coming from the door down the hall. Ron
didn't know of a spell to aid you in eavesdropping so he had to suffice by pressing his ear
against the door and straining hard to hear.
BLOCKQUOTE
"Come on Ginny tell us!"
P
"Yeah, we promise we'll keep it a secret!"
P
"We won't tell /I else!"
P
"Please, Ginny?"
P
"I'll tell you who I like!"
P
"Besides, you picked truth, so you /i to tell!"
P
"Oh, but do you really want to know?"
/BLOCKQUOTE
So that's where she'd went. Ron recognized the other voices as that of Lavender Brown
and
Parvati Patil. They too were Gryffindor fifth years. And there was one other person...it
must
have been Padma, Parvati's twin sister. Ron had taken her out to the Yule Ball last year,
and
had well remembered her annoyed complaints as she'd tried to get him to dance. He
already
knew who Ginny liked - Harry of course. Didn't everyone know that? He listened on
anyway,
pressing his ear harder to the door.
P
Four girls sat in compartment 131. Three of them bent over in suspense, and one of them
looking as if she had a very bad stomach ache. Two of the girls were identical and sat on
either
side of the girl with wispy locks of light brown hair that fell to her shoulder, they were twins
of
course. Parvati and Padma Patil. Lavender, the girl sitting in the middle, was their best
friend.
And Ginny was the girl who sat looking sick.
P
Ginny had reluctantly accepted to play truth or dare with Lavender, Parvati, and Padma. It
was a muggle game, Lavender had said, she'd learned it from one of her older cousins
over
the summer. Curse the muggle that made it up! She had been sitting for the past few
minutes, her head down, refusing to say who she fancied. She nervously wound one of her
red curls round and round her finger, managing to almost twist it into a knot as the other
girls
continued to pester her. "If I tell you," she measured out her words long and carefully,
"do
you promise you won't laugh? Promise? Promise you won't think I'm absolutely mad?"
She
bit her lip. Why had she been so stupid as to pick truth? It was awful, she couldn't keep a
secret, even about her self, for the shortest amount of time.
P
"Of course we won't!" All three voices chorused as they leaned in eagerly to hear Ginny's
answer.
P
"What year is he in?" Parvati interrupted, she wasn't one to wait.
P
"He's a fifth year like you guys."
P
"Ooooooh I didn't know Ginny liked older guys!" Padma squealed.
P
"Do we know him?" Parvati continued.
P
"Yeah, you sure do, a lot of people know him." She said the last bit with a hint of sarcasm
in
her voice. A lot of people may have known him but that didn't necessarily mean he was what you would
describe as popular.
P
"Oooooooh I think I know who it is!" Padma shouted out, she smiled to herself, and hid her
face in her hands.
P
"Really? Trust me, it's not who you think. I'm sure." Ginny twitched, wringing her hands,
what would they say when they found out her secret?
P
"Is he on one of the Quidditch teams?" Parvati too looked as if she knew who it was.
P
"Yes," then she quickly added," there are a lot of people who play Quidditch though."
P
"I knew it!" She exchanged a look with her sister Padma, but Lavender still held a look of
confusion; she had no idea who Ginny was talking about.
P
"What house is he in?" Parvati had stopped with her mad rush of firing questions, and held
a
more confident look in her eyes.
P
"I don't think you want to know."
P
Realizing to an extent what Ginny had implied, Lavender raised her eyebrows and
gasped," You don't mean...." Her huge pale eyes, that seemed to already pop out
drastically from her face,
grew wider giving her the look of a fish.
P
"Yeah he's in Slytherin."
P
There was a look of surprise that spread over the three of them. This was obviously not
what
Parvati or Padma had expected.
P
"Blonde or Brunette, or redhead?" Parvati added the last after glancing Ginny's hair.
P
"Blonde, verrry blonde."
P
"Oooooooh Ginny likes blondes!"
P
"Shut up Padma!"
P
"Let's see. He's a Slytherin fifth year who plays Quidditch. Blonde. And a lot of people
know who he is. It must be...ummm." Parvati wrinkled her forehead, wracking her mind
trying to think of names. "It's not Marcus Flint, he's too old, and most of the players are...OH!"
She let out a scream and sat in her chair aghast, the others caught on. This time their
faces
showed even stronger expressions of wonder.
P
"You mean it's!--" They all blurted out at once.
P
Ginny sat red as a tomato; it was no use they already knew. "Well you guessed it, I have a
crush on Draco Malfoy."
P
A huge crash thundered, as the door of the compartment fell open, a tall red headed boy
falling
in with it. Ron stood there, his mouth formed into a huge "O", frozen in shock.
P
"OH MY GOD! Ron how long were you standing there? How long?! What did you hear?!
Ohh. RON!" Ginny was now too screaming, her voice so loud and shrill that the glass on
the
windows trembled. "Ron what did you hear?!" She didn't have to wait for a reply, she
could
tell from his face that he knew. Her life was over; it was official. Her brother knew and
now
he would tell everyone. Not that Lavender, Parvati, and Padma eventually would say
something. They couldn't keep shut for five minutes. Somehow this seemed ten times
worse,
almost as bad as Draco himself falling in.
P
"Like...Malfoy......enemy...how could you....Malfoy?!...what would Mum say...or Fred and
George...Malfoy?....you like Malfoy?!" Ron was sputtering, looking quite silly, drawing out
his
words and the spaces that followed. He eventually gained back enough sanity to form
sentences. "You gave up Harry for that dirty, foul, ugly, EVIL bastard!" Ron was huffing
and
no one would have been surprised if right then steam started pouring from his ears.
P
"Don't you ever call him that! Ever!" Ginny slapped him hard across the face, with all the
strength she could manage, her hand leaving a stinging red mark. "I hate you Ron! I hate
you!" Stomping, she fled the room out into the corridor.
P
"Why did you go and say that? Look what you've done!" Parvati was scowling at him, and
barely held back kicking him in the shins.
P
"Yeah Ron, you have to go and ruin everything!" Lavender went out the door following
her.
P
"She's your sister too!" Padma turned, and joined the two slamming the door right in his
face.
P
After all they had missed a chance at some major gossip - they needed details.
P
"What's wrong with them? Was it something I said, maybe it's my hair? Why can't I ever
say
anything right? Girls, they don't make any sense." Shaking his head with
bewilderment,
he left the room. Hermione and Harry ought to wake up when he told them this.
P
"Almost there!" Trudging heavily, a small boy with thin brown hair prompted his dog to
move on. His mother had told him to take it out for a walk, and he'd decided to take a look
at the old lean-to shed near the train tracks. Reaching out a hand to wipe the beads of
perspiration
off his brow, he caught a glimpse of green in the distance. He didn't need to tell his dog to
hurry
up, he was barking madly, his mouth foaming, and had taken to a fast running pace. He
had
to hasten to keep up with him, or he would end up being dragged along in the mud.
IWhat
was wrong? Why, all of a sudden, had he gotten so excited/I? Just as the boy was about
to
try and stop his dog from running further, something passed in front of them. A black cat,
it's
fur sleek and shining with peculiar gray eyes was walking in their direction, away from
where
the flash of green light had happened, away from the run down shed. "So that's what this
is,
really all over a stupid cat. Come one, we better get home, I don't want mom yelling at
me for
being late on my first day back at school. Come on!" The dog paused, fixated at the spot,
unwilling to get up. "Come on! I have to go, now!" Scolding him the boy picked him up by
the
collar, and tried to drag him backward. The dog was much too large, and he had to stop to
catch his breath. Silently, the dog rose from his paws and walked back, seeming to forget
his
need to stay there. I What was that all about?/I But the boy didn't have time to
dwell
on the subject, his mind never wanted to stay on one thing for very long. II wonder
what
the new teacher's going to be likeP
"Ron, are you absolutely sure that-"
P
"Yes, Hermione I'm sure! I heard the whole thing, she distinctly had said Malfoy. I
wouldn't
make something like that up. I'm not /I sick!" Ron had been trying to explain
the
scene he'd overheard.
P
"Well, you shouldn't have been listening in on their conversation! That's very rude Ron!"
Hermione was frowning at him. Ron had gotten used to that; everyone was frowning at
him today.
P
"I didn't mean to. I was walking past when I heard Ginny, and I couldn't have walked
in
on them. Then I wouldn't have heard anything. Wait, I wish I had walked away. I really
didn't
need to hear that."
P
"You shouldn't have said all those things about him. Even though I do think he's a..."
Hermione
paused, not wanting to say the word. "Well, anyway, it really wasn't very nice of you to say
that. Ginny might be - a bit delusional on her part. I'm sure she has a very good
explanation
for it."
P
"So you're saying she's off her rocker? That's not too hard to believe."
P
"Ron! You know that is not what I meant! It's that Ginny might not know how much of a
git
Malfoy is. Maybe I should talk to her."
P
"No, then she'll get even more mad at me. She already hates me you know. She'll think
I've
told the world."
P
"Are you sure, because she might need someone to explain her feelings to."
P
"If you want to then go ahead."
P
"You're not being very supportive!"
P
"Would you two stop arguing?" Harry had decided to join in on the conversation. "If Ginny
likes Malfoy, well that's her business."
P
"I would have thought you, of all people, would be on my side! Come on Harry, he's your
enemy!" Ron obviously felt that now both his friends were against him.
P
"I'm not on anybody's side. I said that you should stop arguing. Malfoy isn't worth you
two
getting mad at each other."
P
With sighs from both sides, Hermione and Ron reluctantly settled down, and tried to talk in
more 'civil' tones. And Hermione came to the decision that she was going to try and talk to
Ginny. So she set off to find compartment number 131.
P
Dozens of pumpkin-shaped carriages were pulled up outside, glittering with an icy blue hue,
their invisible coachmen waiting for passengers. The moon's soft glow wavered over the
scene, making the drops of dew resting in the grass sparkle like a million diamonds. It
wasn't
the set for Cinderella, but the lawn outside Hogwarts, the coaches were ready to take
students
to the castle. Blaise stepped into the first one that she saw, rain was pouring down in
heavy
sheets and she was eager to get out of it. The carriage was in fact not empty, to her
discontent, and to make matters worse she had once again run into Malfoy. She would
have
liked very much to slam the door, turn around and find another carriage. It had already
started moving when she stepped inside, the door blown shut by the wind. IToday is
definitely not my day./I Reluctantly she sat down next to Goyle, afraid that if the
carriage
gave as much as a jerk he would fall and crush her. Well it was better to be dead, than to
endure sitting next to Malfoy, she thought.
P
"Errr who are you?" Goyle who had been digging in his ear, gave a grunt, and stared
incredously at Blaise. Dull as he was, he was able to point out few faces outside the circle of Draco's enemies and confidences. For these had been drilled senseless into his memory.
P
"Blaise Zabini." She muttered. Nobody knew her, then? Not even in her own house!
P
"Yur very purety." Goyle was staring at her, a small drip of drool coming out of the left
side
of his mouth.
P
The first thought that came into her head was something along the lines of, 'EWWWW! I do not want that slimy brute
anywhere near me!' She didn't say that of course, those two were dangerous. It was best
not
to cross them. "Thanks, I guess." It was hard to ignore that stupid smirk on Malfoy's face
that
appeared when he had said that.
P
"Are you alright now Blaise?"
P
"Yes." Her answer was short and cold. She had waited for that hint of sarcasm to start
creeping back into his voice. He was probably going to tell all of Slytherin about how she
had
been crying. It would completely ruin her reputation, not that she cared. Of course. Why would she? She
didn't
give a damn about the whole lot. She was Blaise Zabini after all and she didn't need
anyone.
P
The first years quickly pulled their cloaks over their heads, crouching down as they
entered
the great hall. Their upturned faces filled with a mix of confusion and fascination. "It's
raining,
it is! Look! Look! But why can't I feel it? I'm sure it's raining." A pudgy little girl, not more
than four feet tall pointed at the ceiling. Others followed suit, all looking up at the ceiling,
all
exclaiming until Professor McGonagall settled to explain to them.
P
"The ceiling is only enchanted to look like the sky outside; you are not going to get wet!
Come, come there is much to do." She shooed them ahead, walking until they approached
a
great stool, and on top sat the sorting hat. Looking as lively as one could who is patched
and
frayed everywhere possible.
I
"Four Houses where your fate may lay
BR
Four founders start them all
BR
'Tis I who choose your destiny
BR
Cross me and you will fall"
P
Rowena shone above the rest
BR
For her brilliant mind
BR
Only witty will pass her test
BR
Ravenclaw are your kind......"
/BLOCKQUOTE
Hermione, Ron, and Harry watched over the first years intently. Clapping every time
someone
was sorted into Gryffindor. A few seats down, Ginny sat very busy, in thought that is. And
in
watching a particular person. She found it very hard to drop her gaze from the Slytherin
table, but had to avert it every so often; incase. She didn't want anyone to know what
she
was doing, and she had better not let Ron catch on. He was bound to yell at her right
across
the table.
P
"Hullo, my name's Jeanette." A small girl was looking at her with hopeful cornflower blue
eyes and a bright smile as she held out a hand. Her straw colored hair was tied in two
loose
pigtails and her long bangs kept falling in her eyes. Her robes were so large, that it
wouldn't
be a wonder if they swallowed her up any moment. She had chosen to take the empty
seat
opposite Ginny. And she looked very scared indeed.
P
"Hi, I'm Ginny, welcome to Hogwarts. I'm glad you got into Gryffindor." She gave her a
weak
smile and shook her hand gently, she wasn't very good at starting up a conversation.
P
"Is it, alright that I sit here. Do you want me to move? You probably don't want to sit next
to
a first year? Am I annoying you? I'm probably talking too much - I always talk too much.
I'm sorry. Oh I better stop talking now. I'll go. I'm really sorry I bothered you." She
talked very quickly, her gaze kept to the floor as she barely even whispered her words.
P
"What?" It took Ginny some time to sort out Jeanette's words. "No, no it's alright. Just sit.
It's ok." Ginny motioned awkwardly with her hands.
P
"Can I tell you something?"
P
"Sure what is it?"
P
"I'm really scared; I don't know anything about magic. I don't know anything about
anything,
and I don't have any friends here. "
P
"Well when I first came here I was sort of shy too, Hogwarts is really big, and sometimes
all
the hallways can be confusing, but you'll get used to it. I can help you." Ginny had never
met
someone who looked so frightened, except maybe Neville.
P
"Thanks." The little girl gave her a true smile, her face beaming.
P
Blaise sat up with a sudden jerk of movement. She couldn't sleep. Not now at least. She
had
been tossing and turning for what seemed like hours. She had shut her eyes and tried to
bring her breathing to a normal pattern, tried to clear all thoughts out of her mind.
Thinking too
much was bad. Thinking made you worry, it kept you awake. The sheets only seemed to
suffocate her, and the room came up with an acute shock of heat. Hot beads of sweat
clung to her dark brows. "Surprising for a cold dungeon" she thought. "No use staying
here, might as
well go exploring." Her eyes began to glow with a nonsensical even mad light a half smile
twitching on her red lips, perhaps that's what staying up late hours did to you. It drove you
mad. With a soft sigh, and careful not to stir the other girls in her dormitory, Blaise threw
back the thick green covers and stepped barefoot onto the icy stone. She didn't recoil, or
draw back in a shiver, but simply walked on into the darkness. She knew exactly where to
turn,
where to avoid a step, the place had been imprinted into her mind after all these years.
Huge
portraits, their frames done in ornate swirls of bronzing silver, hung among the walls. The
emblem of Slytherin portrayed on a silk banner wafting down from the ceiling, the serpents
glittering slits of eyes piercing. There was not a single soul stirring in the common room,
and
the dead silence further dramatized your stereotypical story book dark dungeon. She
fought
down the urge to snigger loudly, it would echo a million times bouncing off the walls...and
wake everyone. Peeves might even fly down from wherever he happened to be at the
moment, to
see who was enjoying themselves at this time of night, and find some way to stop it. She
had
remembered to pick up her wand off the side table, and whispered "Lumos." A small orb of
light burst out of the tip, ruining the darkness. She walked silently through the portrait
hole,
ignoring the fact that her feet were bare and that if anyone saw her she would surely be in
trouble. And the first day at Hogwarts too! What a shame! Blaise often did things on a spur,
because she found again that she didn't know where she was going. She was simply
walking,
an alternative to her sleepless rest. And, maybe if she was lucky, she might come
upon
something interesting.
P
Someone else was awake that night. Hermione sat, a white feathered quill dipped in
scarlet
ink clutched in her hand, scribbling away in an indigo book. She had been keeping the
book
for the past two years, a diary yes she had to admit. She resulted, like other teenage girls
to
spilling out her silly thoughts onto paper for resolution. The soft scratching sound her quill
made, and the large loopy letters filling up the page gave her a feeling a satisfaction:
I
September 1st
BR
First day back at Hogwarts!
BR
Dear journal,
BR
Today was not quite what I expected. Nothing largely important happened, but all the
same
something was off. The Hogwarts Express came on schedule, there was no delay. No derail
by dementors. The feast was the same brilliant set up as always, the house elves have
not given up their work! There was some sort of, depressing feeling to it. Harry did
nothing but
stare out the window, a blank expression on his face. Ron was as usual irritable. And not
even Malfoy came to interrupt the gloom. I know we are going through a terrible time, and
Harry must be living every second in...oh how stupid am I? To worry about myself and
such
trivial matters when there are lives at stake here! Hermione you are no fool. Of course
everyone would be naturally sad, that is all you can expect isn't it? But the dark side will
not win, I
am sure of that. As Dumbledore said, "There will be many times when you will have to
choose between what is easy and what is right. For what is easy is not often right." Maybe
this is they trying part, we must all have confidence. Never give up. Harry and Ron will be
better
tomorrow I'm sure.
BR
And Ginny, well that problem is different. I didn't get a chance to talk to her today. Do
you
know journal that she has fallen for Malfoy, of all people? Ron nearly had quite a fit on the
train this morning. Poor Ginny, I only wonder what she's feeling. This is only a stage
right?
It's not like she loves him of course, she's only fourteen and well he's Malfoy. I can't make
assumptions until I talk to her. And now it's getting late, and I need to get some sleep if
I'm
going to be awake in class tomorrow.
/CENTER