THE HARRY POTTER FILES

The Next Generation

NOTE: Ta-dah! I own nothing! Read, and feel free to review.

CHAPTER I

STRAHOVSKY

Ireland was a paradise, but a bit of a dismal place when you're not into traditions and stuff. Such is the case for this girl. And she LOVED to go against the rules. Whether it was the 'don't disturb me while I'm working' of her brother, or the 'don't do this, don't do that' at school.

"Certainly, they couldn't be THAT prohibited," she'd say with a roll of her eyes.

One morning, she decided to take the post –again. She's been doing that foe two weeks no, since school let out for the summer. Now, you might be wondering why we're starting with this girl in particular, and asking, where's the Potter part, and things like that. Well, that all comes later.

Back to our girl, she picked up a rather thick envelope made out of slightly-yellowing parchment, and written on with green ink(yes, that does sound familiar, doesn't it?).

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

She caught her breath as she saw the emblem embossed upon the seal. Gingerly, she turned it over.

EYVONNE ARYAHNA STRAHOVSKY

Strahovsky Manor, Sylver, Mainland Isles

Ireland

Hands shaking, she opened it. And Strahovsky Manor reverberated with a ringing scream of pure exultation.

August twenty-ninth. In a couple of days, she'd be on the train and off to her new school, Hogwarts –the uncontested best wizarding school in Britain. Maybe you've heard about it, maybe you haven't. but while we're on the subject of changing wizarding schools…

"I can't believe you pulled that off!" Her brother looked at her with a mixture of amusement, disbelief. Suspicion and awe. He'd come home from the Dragonology laboratory, only to find out that his precious sister had received a letter from Hogwarts, four years late. "What's wrong with Westwood?" Draco(not Malfoy) continued. "I mean, you're top of your year, you're in the school team, you've got a boyfriend –okay, I forgot. He's not your boyfriend. But why do you want to skip towards Hogwarts?"

Eyvonne lowered her voice. "You know why, Drey. I can't stand it here. Father loathes me -"

Draco cut her off. "No, he does not."

"Yes, he does, brother. And I can't stand all that culture nonsense in this place," she whispered fiercely. "Not that there's anything wrong with it. But the point is –" She shuddered.

"Of course." Draco nodded curtly. "How did he take it, though. Father, I mean."

Eyvonne shrugged. "As always. He'll talk to me in a couple of days and something like that."

Suddenly the ornate doors opened, revealing their wizened old butler. "Miss Eyvonne," he all but wheezed. "The master would like to discuss something with you."

She looked at Draco with an 'I-told-you-so' expression, but nodded and stood up. She traipsed across the living room towards the dark, though warm den. As she opened the door, she felt a terrible sense of foreboding. And as she stepped in to stand under her father's towering presence, the pressure increased.

Adam Strahovsky was clad in his usual shirt and blazer, his dirty blond hair turned fiery by the flames that danced behind him and his blue eyes hidden by shadows. In case you were wondering, yes, he is a wizard –a very focused one(I say focused, not powerful). And bound by his beliefs.

In traditional chauvinistic sense, he hated the fact that his daughter turned out to be more powerful than he was when he was at her age. But as he glared at her dark raven hair, her dark purple eyes, he grit his teeth. She looked too much like her mother, the one she'd killed at birth.

"Tell me, Eyvonne," he said in a chillingly calm voice, and appraised his daughter coldly, "is it not enough that we endure your presence here in this house? Is it not enough that I send you to an acceptable school? Are you trying to prove that you're better that the rest of us?"

She, having learned to be impervious to her father's contempt, answered airily. "Which is actually the point, father. Imagine eight whole months without your loathsome daughter traipsing around, threatening scandal to your precious profession. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"You could do with your tongue cut off!" Adam roared. "I will not accept such insolence, girl!" he thrust the wad of papers toward her. "Here. Your papers. Signed as you want them."

She received them, betraying no emotion on her face. But as she walked out of the den to the hallyway, where hung the portrait of her great-grandfather, she felt contempt creep in.

SIR ANTOINE STRAHOVSKY

WIZENGAMOT

Order of Merlin, First Class

His intense magic had skipped the following generations, and then reappeared in her. She felt no reason to be the least bit happy about it, except the fact that it helped her escape the ominous monotony of Sylver , Mainland every year, for eight months at a time.

She closed her eyes and took two deep breaths. In two days' time, she'd be off to London, and she's be temporarily free of the cold hatred she felt towards this fairytale stone manor.

Dear Miss Strahovsky,

We appreciate your wanting to come to Hogwarts, even at this so late a time. We have indeed received a letter of recommendation from your current Headmistress of Westwood Academy of Magic, and we are happy to give word that despite untraditional circumstances, we are accepting you as a fourth year student.

We therefore request you to go to Hogwarts Express on September first, and seek the name Teddy Remus Lupin as soon as you reach Hogsmeade Station. He will guide you accordingly.

Enclosed in this letter is a permission slip for Hogsmeade, your list of books and materials, and your ticket for the train.

Thank you.

Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress

London Underground was a good place to be, except for certain deplorable things that catch your attention. Eyvonne stood in front of the decrepit-looking building, marked by a similarly decrepit sign that proclaimed "The Leaky Cauldron".

Entering, she walked in slow, long strides, trying not to look too suspicious. The pub, as always, was full of an assortment of peculiar characters. So she easily noticed the three elegant heads, whose normality stood out.

Two flaxen-haired men, one was a boy though, and a black-haired girl, whose hair hung in long gorgeous curls. They had their backs towards her, and she continued on towards the back of the pub.

Diagon Alley was as fascinating as she'd remembered. There was an assortment of merchandise she would have wanted to buy, but she concentrated on what she needed.

She was walking up the white marble steps of Gringotts when someone shouted, "OI!"

She turned around to look at the rude person who'd called her, and hissed. "Who are you?" she recognized the white-blond hair of the boy she's spied earlier. He had cold, compelling blue-grey eyes, and reminded her slightly of her brother. She snorted slightly at the thought, knowing Draco's being fair-haired and light-eyed certainly helped. Her father was a sucker for family resemblances.

"You!" The boy was smirking, shattering her out of her thoughts. "Half-blood."

The familiar word irked her. She's been called that many times before, and subjected her to a variety of other insults.

"Who are you?" she seethed.

He looked down at her, the slight smirk still playing on his lips, then he let out a low chuckle. "Scorpius Malfoy. And you are?"

He had placed a slight stress on his last name, and she recognized it almost at once. Sure. Platinum blond. Smirk. I-am-the-king-of-the-world stance. Pureblood brat.

"Eyvonne Strahovsky," she said in a reserved tone. "now, if you please, I have to get going."

She marched straight towards the door and entered without a second glance.

Scorpius' brows furrowed.

Suddenly a whole lot of black hair came flying towards his face.

"Scorpius, you dolt!" the flying mass of hair collided with him, and they ended up on the ground.

The girl straightened to reveal a waterfall of black hair that fell down in abnormally-glamorous waves and framed a face so identical to Scorpius', it was unnerving. She looked at him with emerald green eyes, a stare so intense it made him shudder.

"What?" he asked, standing up.

End Note: Tell me what do ya think of that...

sincerely,

harrieblack