Hello my amazing readers! This was once known as Gabriella Qaurtez, and still is! Anybody else notice that there were seven books? (Okay stupid question) Seven Horcruxes (Harry was a Horcrux)? Each book is a Horcrux and we destroy them by reading them! Well that is how I see it anyway… Review, enjoy, and review!
~Gemstone
Gabriella Qaurtez opened her eyes at five past midnight. She groaned, seeing it was not morning, and tried to go back to sleep. She did not want to be reminded that she lived at Bonn Creek, well, the orphanage actually, and that Mrs. Bywether was probably downstairs. Gabriella scared the other kids at the orphanage—she couldn't help it though. Weird things happened naturally around her. The day the stout little man in long red robes had bowed to her while she ate bread out on the path, the day Ciera Tiffon's wardrobe burst into flames when she and Gabriella had been having a row. Barry Muck's stomach had begun to throb once when Gabriella had been frustrated with him, and Dan Crack's eye had bled once after he stole Gabriella's glasses once.
Remembering these catastrophes, Gabriella angrily threw the pillow across the room just as a big thump echoed around the room. Dust and cobwebs rained down on her, covering every exposed surface. Gabriella coughed several times, as some dust had gotten up her nose, and threw off her covers, changing from her pajamas into a black T-shirt, cargo pants, socks and sneakers. Jamming her baseball cap on her head and her glasses on her nose, Gabriella shoved open the door with such force that is ricocheted and almost hit her in the face. Pounding down the stairs, Gabriella pushed strands of dark brown hair out of her eyes. This was the last straw.
For so long, Gabriella had been stuck up in that attic room. She was done with Mrs. Bywether and her darned special rules for Gabriella. Gabriella finally reached the last step and skipped it, jumping down to the creaky wooden floor. Planks groaned underneath her feet as she stalked over to a startled-looking Mrs. Bywether, her gray hair pulled into a fiercely tight bun and crescent-moon spectacles low on her nose. "Gabriella Qaurtez, what are you doing up so early in the morning! Such a time is highly inappropriate, you go back up to that attic right now, young lady—" Gabriella stopped her with a withering glare that had made Ciera Tiffon's wardrobe catch fire. "There's something on the roof," Gabriella told her coldly. Mrs. Bywether immediately regained her composure.
"Is that it? Well, go back up then, nothing to worry about! Honestly, child…" Gabriella stopped her again. She crossed her arms and kicked a loose floorboard, which went hurtling across the room. Mrs. Bywether tracked its process. "Qaurtez, you put that floorboard back right now!" Gabriella stalked up to Mrs. Bywether's desk. "No, Mrs. Bywether, I'm leaving!" Mrs. Bywether looked taken aback for only a couple seconds before her face was cold and serious once more, unsettling black eyes locking on Gabriella's chocolate brown ones (flecked with silver). "Now is not the time for humor, young lady! No breakfast for you, then! Now go GET THAT FLOOR—"
"NO, Mrs. Bywether! I'm LEAVING!" A soft, gentle voice came from the front door. "Well, I do most certainly hope you are, Miss Gabriella Qaurtez," it said softly. Gabriella whirled around. A man wearing red robes under a black trench coat was standing in the doorway. His face was heavily cloaked by the shadow of the doorway, but he wore glasses a lot like Gabriella's and had pitch black hair and startlingly green eyes. "Er—um—excuse me?" Gabriella muttered, very much at a loss for words. The stranger did not scare her, not in the least, but there was something unsettling about him. Well, not unsettling exactly—more… different.
"I am very sorry for giving you a fright, Mrs. Bywether," he told the woman behind the counter, although he did not sound very sorry—he did not sound at all fond of Mrs. Bywether at all. Okay, Gabriella thought. That's good. "Oh, no, no, no," Mrs. Bywether said automatically. "No, no, no, no, no! I have told you and told you, Harry Potter, that Gabriella Qaurtez is not going to go to your little playschool!" The man stepped out of the doorway at this statement, so Gabriella could see him batter. He looked young and was fairly handsome and he was carrying a stick. That was about all Gabriella could tell about him. Although why the heck he was carrying a stick was a mystery.
Now, his face was very cold, and all kindness had vanished. Gabriella felt a cold prickle down her spine, and took a step back. But the man, Harry Potter, was glaring at Mrs. Bywether in such a hating, unfriendly way that Gabriella practically felt the dislike waving off him. "Hogwarts is most definitely not a playschool, Mrs. Bywether, and for your information, I never asked your permission to take Gabriella there," Harry Potter growled. He pointed his stick at her and glared. Mrs. Bywether faltered, but only slightly. "I will not have you taking her away to teach her pointless magic tricks!" she cried, taking out a golf club from the desk that Gabriella had not known was ever there.
Harry Potter glowered, his aiming his stick directly at Mrs. Bywether. "Pointless?" he crowed. "Pointless? If there is one thing in this world that will help Gabriella Qaurtez survive, it is magic!" This was where Gabriella had to jump in. She had been containing herself for as long as she could, but she couldn't hold back any longer. The questions burst from her like a water balloon popping. "What's Hogwarts, Mr. Harry Potter, sir? How do you know Mrs. Bywether? What magic? Why do I need it? How do you know my name? Why are you carrying around a stick?" That last one she hadn't meant to say, but she had been thinking it and it had just popped out. Gabriella felt her ears turn red. Harry Potter looked at her once.
"Give me second," he told her, and muttered something under his breath that sounded like stupefy. A jet of red light shot from the end of the stick—it was a magic stick!—and Mrs. Bywether slumped to the ground, unconscious. Sweet! Gabriella thought. She needed to learn to do this! She would never have to deal with Mrs. Bywether again! "Now, as for what's Hogwarts—we should probably start with 'what magic,' though." Gabriella smiled slightly. Despite what had just happened, she wasn't in the least afraid of Harry Potter. "So, Gabriella. Magic is, well, magic. You ought to know what magic is. You see, I'm a wizard. You're a witch. We can do magic. Only us, though. Not Muggles. That is what we call the humans.
"You are supposed to be a part of the Wizarding world, or, the world of magic. So, yes, as the anwser for 'what magic.' Now, for 'what's Hogwarts'. Well, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—that is the full name of the school—is a magic school. I went there. Young children train for up to seventeen there. Seventeen is the Wizarding age for adult. From eleven to seventeen. There are others, of course, although I would say Hogwarts is the best, of course. You'll go there if you decide to go, which the entire Wizarding world would prefer.
"As for how I know Mrs. Bywether, that is another story for another time. You could ask my son, James—he was there. You need it because—well, let's do 'how do you know my name' first. Well, Gabriella—in the Wizarding world you're famous. I was—am—, too, it's difficult," he said to Gabriella's disbelieving face, "but you'll survive. 'Why?' I know, will be the next question. I was famous, Gabriella, for surviving the Killing Curse, Avada Kedavra. You are famous for a similar reason—you survived the magic of Atriax, or Gareth Wyvern. He rose to power closely after Voldemort—don't ask—and has held the record for most deadly Dark spell of all time: Medovra Allentiom. I'd say it's a lot like the Killing Curse, but you are slowly tortured to death, and for killing you…" Harry Potter dropped his voice to a whisper.
"Atriax, or more commonly known around as The Dark One, combined the Cruciatus Curse, the Imperius Curse, and the Killing Curse into Medovra Allentiom, therefore making the Unforgivable Curse… Hellmona Crimperavra. You, Gabriella, are the only one ever to survive the Unforgivable Curse. That, Gabriella Qaurtez, is why I know your name. As for my stick," Harry Potter added in a much lighter tone, "it is actually a wand." Gabriella barely heard this. Her parents… not killed by lighting as Mrs. Bywether had always told her. No, something much worse. Hellmona Crimperavra. Amazingly, Gabriella believed Harry Potter in full. She had absolutely no doubts about what he had just told her, but believed every word of it, including Voldemort—whoever that was. Gabriella looked up at him, shaking. But when she spoke her voice was surprisingly calm.
"So, Mr. Harry Potter, sir, what do you wish me to do?" Harry Potter looked at her once. "Well, Gabriella, I'd want you to go to Hogwarts. Give it a try, you know?" Gabriella nodded faintly, still processing Atriax and the Unforgivable Curse. "Gabriella—call me Harry, okay? And if you wish to come, you might wish to hurry. Buckbeak is getting restless. Pack your things, please." Gabriella stared at Harry. Buckbeak? Who named their kid Buckbeak? Then she remembered the crash on the roof, and inferred that Buckbeak was not a person. Gabriella rushed to the attic and stumbled around her room, throwing things into her suitcase in piles that were most definitely not neat.
Practically jumping down the stairs in excitement, Gabriella hopped down the last three steps and looked up into the face of Harry, beaming. "Alright, ready," she said excitedly, and followed Harry outside, grinning like a lunatic.
Godric's Hollow was snowy at the time, and Gabriella hugged her black leather jacket tighter around her. As soon as she was there, she jumped off the hippogriff Buckbeak and rushed off to the Potter's house. It was large, a two-story. She walked up to the gate in wonder and opened it. Gabriella had never lived inside a real house before. This would be a change. Gabriella kicked snow off the stone path, peering at the beige rocks beneath. She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear and hoped the Potters were friendly. Harry seemed friendly enough.
Gabriella looked back for reassurance, but Harry was walking off to put Buckbeak away. Gabriella cursed him in her head and shakily moved towards the door. She was slightly short for her age. She had a bizarre vision of her being small as an ant while the Potters ran around the front yard, looking for who had knocked.
It did nothing but increase her nervous mood.
When Gabriella finally arrived at the door, she hesitated for at least ten seconds before rapping her knuckles against the wood. As soon as her hands touched the door, it opened, leaving Gabriella standing there, still waiting to knock on the door. A frazzled-looking red-haired woman stood there. "My goodness, Harry—oh, sorry, child, I thought you were my husband…" Gabriella smiled nervously. This woman, obviously Harry's wife, seemed nice, too. Mrs. Potter examined Gabriella again. "Well, you can't be… you must be Gabriella Qaurtez, unless I'm mistaken?" Gabriella nodded hesitantly. "Well, hello! I'm Ginny Potter, simply wonderful to meet you, come in, yes, come in…" Gabriella decided to be patient as she was ushered to the foyer. Ginny led her through a den, which was entirely deserted.
Gabriella entered the living room, where all the havoc was. Ginny hollered at two children, obviously twins, who zipped by riding broomsticks… broomsticks! Cool! Three children were sitting at the table, untouched bowls of oatmeal sitting in front of them, spoons held in their hands as they watched the chaos. There were three older children nearby, two boys and a girl. Gradually, the chaos ended, as the kids realized there was a guest in the house. The two kids on broomsticks looked positively giddy—they each had jet-black hair like Harry, mischievous brown eyes, and pale skin with freckles across their nose. "Gale and Vale," scolded Ginny, her voice carrying across the house, no doubt. The two children on the brooms, one a boy and one a girl, didn't even look guilty. Gabriella fought the urge to laugh.
"Who's this, Mom?" asked the eldest—he looked almost exactly like Harry, but with his mother's eyes. "This, children, is Gabriella Qaurtez, and I expect all of you to be kind to her while she's here," Ginny announced, with a pointed glare at the twins—Gale and Vale—and then at the kid who had asked. Gabriella felt her face warm up, and looked at her sneakers. She didn't feel short next to the Potters, though. That was good. There was the sound of the door opening. "Oh, that'll be Harry," Ginny decided, and rushed to the foyer. Gabriella felt exceedingly awkward alone with the Potters. One of the girls gestured to the fourth seat at the table. Gabriella, feeling happy for a purpose, walked over and sat down. The racket continued.
"Hi," said the girl who had invited Gabriella over—she sounded light, easy, and friendly. She was greeted with similar hellos from the other two children. The other girl introduced them. "I'm Ruby," she told Gabriella. "This is Elsa, this is Jack, that boy over there is James, that's Albus, and she's Lily, and the twins are Gale and Vale." Gabriella grinned her thanks. She felt better knowing everybody's name, for some reason. At that moment, Ginny returned with Harry, who clapped his hands. "We've got to leave early," he explained.
Groans from around the room.
"C'mon, Dad, it's barely 3:10! A.M.!" James pouted from the sofa. Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know. But Gabriella needs her subject books, and we haven't got time if we go later. You're off to Hogwarts today, so we've got to get moving!
Gabriella walked down the long alleyway in Diagon Alley, Elsa walking beside her. Harry said they needed to hurry, so he and the others had gone to pack up the car while Elsa accompanied Gabriella to Ollivander's Wand Shop. Gabriella had had to stop every few steps to shake somebody's hand, to anwser somebody's question. Now, pretty much the whole Diagon Alley knew that Gabriella Qaurtez was here. Elsa looked around. "C'mon, let's hurry, before another mob shows up." Gabriella laughed quietly as Elsa led the way to Ollivander's.
At the end of the alley was an old, dusty shop with the sign that said OLLIVANDER'S: MAKERS OF FINE WANDS SINCE 382 B.C. Gabriella pushed open the door and waited for Elsa to go in, but she shook her head. "I'll wait out here," Elsa reassured her, and Gabriella hesitantly walked inside. It was dimly lit, with a small chair in the corner that looked very obviously squashed. Gabriella remained standing by the door. Nobody was behind the desk up front. Gabriella looked around, and then saw an old man bustle out of a room in the back. "Ah, yes, Miss Qaurtez. I was expecting you." Gabriella wasn't sure what to say to this, so remained silent, but walked up to the desk. "I'm, uh, looking for a wand," she spluttered.
Mr. Ollivander nodded. "Of course, of course." He fished around and handed her a wand after removing it carefully from a box. "Holly, unicorn hair core, supple, nineteen inches. Go on, give it a wave." The wand was barely in Gabriella's hand before Ollivander snatched it way. "No, no, of course, not, what was I thinking?" he scolded himself, placing the box back on the shelf. "Perhaps this one, yes?" On and on it went, with more and more wands leaving the shelves. They looked practically bare when Ollivander stopped dead, looking at his office slowly. He walked in and opened a drawer, removing a very, very old, very, very dusty wand box, the cardboard peeling and damp.
Ollivander held out the wand. "I wonder, I wonder… ash, pleasantly supple, fifteen inches, 'special' phoenix feather core." Gabriella looked at Ollivander in confusion when he mentioned the 'special' phoenix feather—it must just be an ordinary phoenix. What other kind was there? As soon as the wand touched her hand, Gabriella knew it was the right one. It glowed with spectacular blue light as Gabriella held it. She felt a sense of incredible calm. Then the wand faded, returning to its natural state. "That'll be five Galleons," Ollivander told Gabriella. She forked over the money. 'Sir—sir, why did you say 'special'? Why are you muttering 'interesting'?" For Ollivander was, certainly, muttering "interesting, interesting" under his breath as he scurried around putting away wands. He finally stopped and looked square at Gabriella. "Why do I say interesting? Well, Gabriella Qaurtez, for a right interesting reason.
"The phoenix tail feather within your wand belongs to the great Blue Phoenix."
This didn't take as long as I would have expected previously to type. I hope you liked it. Next chapter will explain all about the Blue Phoenix, Black Phoenix, and Silver Phoenix. I'll tell you their names ahead of time because they aren't amazingly important: Tsunami, Shadow and Spirit. So, yeah, like I said, hope you like it! The OC form below is for Gabriella's boy companion (Elsa is the Hermione) Gabriella's archenemy, and random wizards and witches. If you read previous versions, this OC form may be different. If it is, don't freak out! Just add in stuff you want to add in. NO SEVERELY OVERPOWERED PEOPLE! Please, it is easier to work with my story and your people that way.
OC Form
Name:
House (for archenemy it must be Slytherin. For Gabriella's boy companion it is Gryffindor):
Gender:
Wand:
Parentage:
Siblings (optional):
Year (you know, Year 1, Year 2, and so on):
Animagus (optional):
Quidditch Position (optional and for later, Gabriella's Gryffindor Seeker):
Blood (pureblood, Mudblood [excuse my language] half-blood):
Pet (optional):
Broom (optional NO SEVERELY OVERPOWERED BROOMS):
Anything Else:
Okay, thanks for reading, next chapter will (hopefully) be up soon! Thank you for reading! Review, review, review!
~Gemstone