A/N: I probably won't be able to update much within the next few days as I am going to be out of town without use of a computer. Thanksgiving and all. But I'll be writing mentally. And as you may have noticed, I'm a newbie. This is my first Harry Potter fic, though not my first piece of fiction. You can find more samples of my work at the website on my bio. Read on.
Chapter One: Afraid Of The Dark
The summer seemed to fly by to Harry Potter. Granted, most of it was spent at the Burrow with his one of his best friends, Ron Weasley, and his family. And frequent visits from his other best friend, Hermione Granger, just accentuated the good times. He had only spent two weeks at the Dursley's home when he had been invited to stay at Ron's for the rest of the summer. Harry had graciously accepted.
Now, nearly three months later, Harry stood in the middle of a train station surrounded by hundreds of families kissing and hugging their children goodbye for the school year. He stood to the side until Mrs. Weasley reached out and squeezed him tightly.
"Now don't get into trouble this year, boys," Mrs. Weasley warned the young men standing in a semicircle around her. Harry, Ron, and Ron's twin brothers George and Fred nodded. Their little sister, Ginny, just giggled and shook her head.
"Yes, mum," the brothers grumbled. Harry continued to nod.
"Goodbye," she said, her eyes welling with tears. She stepped back and allowed them all to get on the train.
Harry and Ron set out to find an empty compartment near the back and after a few minutes of searching, found one. The twins and Ginny, meanwhile, set out to find their friends. When the two had finally wrangled their trunks into the overhead and had gently set their owls' cages next to them, the compartment door slowly opened.
They smiled as Hermione entered, looking relieved she'd found them. "I was beginning to wonder where you two were," she said somewhat breathlessly. "Fred and George kept telling me you were at the front of the train." Ron and Harry helped her put her trunk in the overhead. Only then did they notice a tall figure standing uncertainly behind Hermione.
"Come in, come in," Hermione urged, clutching a large basket that contained her cat, Crookshanks, in her arm. A girl emerged cautiously from the shadows; a muggle cat carrier in hand and a trunk near her feet. "This is Ron Weasley and Harry Potter," Hermione smiled, gesturing towards the two.
Ron and Harry smiled and held out their hands for her to shake. She stared at them for a second before smiling as well and shaking their hands. "Aurora-Grace Snow," she said in a quiet, cheerful voice. "Call me Grace." Ron and Harry could tell right away that she was American.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Grace," Harry smiled. He liked her already. For one, she was one of the only people who didn't look at him incredulously when they found out he was Harry Potter. She treated him as if he were a normal person. Even Ron hadn't entirely been that way in the beginning.
Grace and Hermione pushed her trunk up and Hermione closed the compartment door.
"I met Grace last week in Diagon Alley," Hermione explained as they all sat down. Harry took into notice that they both had very similar hair: thick and bushy with plenty of frizz, though Grace's had more curl to it. "We've been in touch ever since." She let Crookshanks out of his basket, and motioned for Grace to do the same. Both cats were large in size. But while Hermione's was an orange tabby, Grace's was black, white, gray, and every color in between. His black spotted nose and green eyes surveyed the room, taking it in.
"Oh, your cat's so adorable," Grace said quietly. "What's its name?"
"Crookshanks," Hermione beamed.
"What's your cat's name?" Ron asked, attempting to break the ice, and looking at it a bit wearily. A couple of years ago, Crookshanks had kind of ruined any strong love of cats he may have possibly had in the future when he constantly attacked Ron's old pet rat.
"His name is Zeke," Grace grinned confidently. She seemed, Harry noticed, to be relieved that they were apparently accepting her without much ado.
"When did you move to England?" Harry asked, curiously.
"That obvious, huh? I moved here with my family about a month ago; my mom, my dad, and my little sister. She's not old enough to come here yet." She paused for a moment. "I used to go to a school in America: Pacifica Academy of Magic. That's in California."
"What year are you?" Ron questioned.
"Fifth."
"Really?" Ron's eyes raised a bit. "But does the Sorting Hat work on anyone other than first years?" he asked, turning towards Hermione.
"Well, you see-"
But Hermione was cut off by the door opening. George's head poked through. "Oy, Harry, Ron, Hermione! I think I ought to warn you: Malfoy's making his way back here. I think he's still a bit upset about what we did to him on the train last year. Don't think you all would like a Howler from Mum tomorrow, so keep your wands in check," he warned, willing them not to lose their tempers with him.
"Yeah, sure, Percy-I mean...George," Ron grinned slyly.
"Don't be surprised if you find some Canary Cremes in your food this week," George muttered mysteriously before closing the door and heading back to the front. They could hear his and Fred's footsteps down the hall.
Harry and Hermione broke out into laughter, while Ron looked slightly disoriented and Grace, confused.
"Canary Cremes?" she asked hesitantly.
Since the other two were still giggling, Ron explained, grumbling. "They're inventions of Fred and George. They make you sprout yellow feathers that molt within five minutes." Grace's shoulders shook a bit in laughter at the sheer thought of something like that happening. She calmed down after a few seconds.
"And who's this Malfoy person?"
All of their amusement subsided within seconds as the question was asked and dark shadows were seen from outside of their compartment.
"Well, Grace," Hermione said hesitantly while she, Harry and Ron stood, their wands in hand, as if preparing for battle, "I think you're about to find out."
As if on cue, the door slid opened and there stood a tall, well-built boy with brilliantly blinding blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Behind him were two large, thugish boys, glaring in contempt at those in the compartment. The blonde, who was still a good head shorter than the other two, grinned malevolently.
"Well, if it isn't the Mudblood, the Prince, and the Pauper," he sneered venomously. Harry's grip tightened on his wand. He really didn't need to go through another year of this.
Hermione coughed loudly towards Ron, who looked as though he would gladly strangle him at any second.
"Malfoy, you've been calling us everything you could think of for the past four years. A short list of names that you ran out of years ago, grant you," Hermione smiled gleefully. "Would it really be that difficult for you to try to put yourself above that this year?"
"Honestly, no." Ron snorted at the idea of Malfoy being honest. "But why bother, when it's so enjoyable?"
Grace, who had apparently been hidden by their figures, stood up suddenly, an innocent grin on her face and a glint of mischief in her hazel eyes. "Malfoy, is it?" she asked, her voice as oily as Professor Snape's hair. Malfoy took as step back, his eyes widening just slightly. This surprised Harry because Malfoy never seemed to be the least bit afraid of anyone who was unarmed. "I haven't exactly been around for very long, but from all of the things I've heard so far in this compartment, I've come to one question that I want to ask you." She paused, seemingly for dramatic effect. Her voice suddenly turned harsh, along with her facial features. "Do you intentionally act like a jackass, or is it just a reflex by now?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione burst into laughter at Malfoy's dumbfounded look, which made him look even more clueless than Crabbe and Goyle.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," she said, bitterly, pushing him out of the compartment and slamming the door shut. Grace slowly swiped at her clothes, as if ridding them from grime, and plopped back down into her seat by the window.
"That was brilliant, Grace," Ron clamped his hands together. "I never thought we'd get rid of them."
"Yeah, well, I don't like seeing people insulted maliciously," she said remotely, staring out of the window at the passing fields.
"Grace?" Hermione asked thoughtfully once they had all settled down.
"Hm?" she mumbled nonchalantly, still peering through the glass.
"Did you know Malfoy at all? I mean before today."
She turned to face her, her eyebrows furrowing. "No. Why?"
"Because..." Hermione paused. "When you stood up, he looked like he had seen a ghost. And not a ghost like Nearly-Headless Nick, Ron," she warned as Ron opened his mouth to speak. "I don't know, it was just weird."
"Well, most things in life are. You can't expect people to be any different than that."
"What? Weird?" Harry asked.
Grace nodded, then shrugged. "I probably just look like someone he knows."
"Well, regardless, at least he'll be out of our hair for a while," Hermione said with a note of relief in her voice.
That's when Harry heard it. It's so dark in here. Let me out! a tiny voice cried.
Harry's eyebrows raised. "Did you guys hear that?" he asked, standing up to see what was making that voice.
"No," Ron said. It continued and Harry somehow traced it to a trunk on the girl's side. "Harry, have you gone mad? That's a suitcase."
"I know. But I keep hearing a voice from over here."
Being the voice of logic, not to mention reason, Hermione spoke up from the textbook she'd buried her nose in moments ago. "Grace, you wouldn't happen to have a pet snake, would you?"
Grace peered at Hermione, dumbfounded. "How did you know?"
"Harry, I think your problem's solved," she said with a wave of her hand and continued reading.
"Wait, why did you ask me about my snake? Unless...Harry, are you a Parseltounge?" Grace asked, wide eyed, using quick powers of deduction.
"Um, yeah, I am," he said sheepishly, glancing at the floor with a sudden interest in the carpeting.
"Cool," she grinned.
That had not been the reaction he had expected. He had expected shock, possibly horror that he possessed the most infamous skill of the greatest or Dark Wizards. But "cool" was the furthest thing from what he'd expected. "Cool?"
"Yeah, I think it's cool that someone can talk to my snake. I'm sure Copernicus gets lonely in his tank every now and then."
"Tank?" Hermione questioned, taking a break from her book. "How could you fit a tank in there?"
"Oh, um, I had my dad enchant my bag so that I could take a lot of things with me. I'm such a pack rat and I tend not to pack lightly," she explained with an embarrassed grin. Grace stood, pulled her bag down, placed it on her seat, and opened it. Reaching in, she pulled out some impossibly large objects and finally, a tank with a moderately sized brown snake inside of it. "I've always wanted a bag like in Mary Poppins," she beamed. "Dad did this for me on my birthday this summer." She put everything back. Except for the snake.
Harry heard a soft, Thank you.
"I think your snake's afraid of the dark," Harry smiled.
"Wouldn't doubt it," she laughed.
"Wait," said Ron, looking as though he was solving a difficult algebra problem in his head. "Who's Mary Poppins?"
Grace and Hermione laughed.
"What? What'd I say?"
"It's a movie," Grace said, maintaining composure.
Ron had a quizzical look upon his face.
"It's a muggle invention," Hermione explained through stifled laughter. "It's a bit difficult to explain..."
"It's like watching a play, but through a little screen," Grace interrupted.
Ron nodded, indicating he got somewhat of the gist of it.
"I think I remember watching that when I was little," Harry muttered quietly.
"Great movie, isn't it?" Grace asked.
Harry couldn't remember very well. It had been a rather long time ago and he had been yelled at to finish his chores halfway through. He nodded absentmindedly.
"Ron, you can come over to my house over the summer and watch it, if you want to," Hermione said.
"Thanks, Hermione. Dad'll be jealous."
"Is your dad's name Arthur?" Grace asked suddenly.
"Yes," Ron answered cautiously.
"I knew your name sounded familiar. My dad's talked about yours, a bit."
"Really?"
"Really. My dad was transferred to the British Ministry of Magic last month. That's why we moved here. Lot of nasty trouble with the whole Voldemort thing," she said offhandedly.
Harry's head whipped up. She had said his name. Harry had only heard a handful of people utter that word, himself included. So it shocked him when this girl, who he had met only a half an hour ago, had said his name in such a nonchalant way.
"Sorry," she said, looking at their shocked faces. "I keep forgetting that people don't like his name being said."
"I don't mind that you said Voldemort's name," Harry said, seeing Ron flinch. He'd apparently been gawking, too stunned by Grace to wince. Hermione had just glanced up from her book, her eyebrows raised. She, however, returned to the book almost immediately.
"I figured at least you wouldn't," she replied.
"Why?" Harry asked, surprised at his own curiosity.
"Well, because...I'm not sure how to put this in words...You see, I've never been afraid to say the name because, frankly, I've never had any real reason to fear him, because he only seemed to have power over in Britain. And I kind of figured that you would have even less reason to fear him, as you've faced him a few times, now."
Harry nodded. "How do you know that I've gone up against him more than once," he wondered aloud.
"My dad keeps me informed on everything going on in the world. He's mentioned it before when we discussed the trouble with Vol-sorry, You-Know-Who." She rolled her eyes. "I don't really see what the big deal is," she continued. "I mean, yeah, he's a pretty bad guy. But what's the point of not saying his name? Wouldn't that only increase fear? It certainly seems that way."
Harry nodded again. "I understand completely. And I agree."
"Well, that's good to know," she smiled.
Harry leaned back in his seat and struck up a new conversation, Hermione contributing the occasional nod or "I know."
Within a few hours, they had reached the Hogsmeade station, preparing to face their new year.