uChapter One - The Truth, The Sorting, and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft
and Wizardry/u
"No, no! Not Harry, please not Harry!" A woman screamed into the night. The woman had flaming red hair and emerald eyes. Emerald eyes that were full of fear, hatred, and confusion all at once in the dim light.
"Kill me! Take me, not him! Please, not Harry!" She continued silent tears flowing down her face. Her face was set, as though she was making the hardest decision of her life.
"Foolish woman!" A second voice laughed. His voice was cold and mirthless. And his looks matched the evil voice exactly. His red eyes were burning with hatred, and his pale skin glowed where the wand that he held in his hand shone.
"Avada Kedavra!" The man's voice said. Then the man turned to the little boy that was sitting in his cradle.
"So," the man whispered. "Harry Potter. Why don't you hold nice and still, maybe even stand up straight so Lord Voldemort can take care of you just like he did with your daddy. With your mother and father gone there is no hope for you Harry Potter. The girl did not inherit the power but she insisted that I kill her too. Ha! Your father thought he could hold me off did he?"
Lord Voldemort drew his wand to the tip of Harry's nose and poked it. "Goodbye Harry Potter. Avada Kedavra."
A flash of green light illuminated the sky briefly as the curse found its victims. But unknown to Lord Voldemort, the sacrifice "that foolish woman" had made, saved the two babies now unconscious in the cradle, but the woman had only meant to save one of the two babies that night.
What was meant to be the end was really the beginning.
Hazel Jones snapped open her eyes, drenched in cold sweat, and rubbed her forehead. She felt the lightning shaped scar on her forehead. Her parents, Mary and John Jones, has told her that when she was six or seven months old she had found a pair of scissors and before they found her she had massacred her own forehead. Mary often said she should have seen this as a sign of things to come. Hazel found interest in many things that were odd for fifteen-year-old girls to like. Swords, knives, ancient Roman battles, Egyptian "magic", and other such things. At least her history teacher was thrilled.
Her parents had always told her to stay out of trouble, but that was easier said than done. When she was eleven she had been playing in the older students' chemistry lab and broke their competition equipment. The second she had realized that she was going to be in a lot of trouble they started putting themselves back together. She never went back in there again. Whenever she was told to go in there she claimed that it was haunted and refused to go. If they insisted she covered her ears with her hands and hummed loudly.
But that wasn't the only time something odd happened to her. It continued to happen at least once a month until she turned twelve. The kids that were in her grade already didn't like her, but when odd things started happening they started rumors that she was possessed, that there were ghosts that haunted her, and that she was a witch. When she told her parents about the last rumor they had seemed a little panicky. They had told her (rather oddly in high-pitched voices) not to worry and that the whole thing would blow over when the kids found something else to talk about. She had always thought there was something that they hadn't told her, but it was then and there that she made a silent promise to herself that she would find out what it was before she turned thirteen.
And here she was, fifteen years old and no closer to finding out what it was than she was to walking on water. They were hiding something from her, and whatever it was they were hiding it well.
Hazel was no ordinary girl. Her jet-black hair reached her knees and was a disaster, always. She wore glasses that were black-rimmed circles with tape around the bridge of the nose from walking into walls and tripping, of which she usually did once a day. She was far too skinny to look healthy and she had a lightning bolt scar on her forehead.
Hazel stared at her ceiling. What was with her freaky dreams? She had been having odd dreams ever since she was eleven. Her first one had been a dream of the boy named Harry Potter going to a magical school. She had seen him go to a place to buy things and then rode on a train to get to the weird school. Once the train had started she had woken up. But the next night her dreams picked up exactly where they had left off the previous night. She had even had a crazy night where she had dreamed that him and his friends a boy with flaming red hair and a girl with bushy brown hair had rescued this shiny red stone thing. It was like a never-ending dream that happened directly after the last one.
Then the next year the same thing happened. But that year the boy and his friends had gone through a completely different set of adventures. But it was always the same people, the same train, and the same place. She couldn't remember everything, like the names of the places that they went to or saw. But there was one name that seemed to be stuck in her head, but it was preposterous. She had the compelling feeling that the castle that they returned to every year was called Hogwarts.
Then the year she turned thirteen the dreams had begun again, but this time, as was last year, the dreams held different adventures for the three characters of her dreams. It was like a never-ending story. It was as-if the people were actually real and she was just watching what happened in their lives like her mother watched soap operas.
And then, just last year, the dreams had taken a more dramatic turn. That year more serious things happened in the "story" inside of her mind. And the death of four people had been revealed. Evil had become strong again and the people of power had not believed it.
"Hazel, you're cracking. Is insanity possible at fifteen?" Hazel muttered to herself. It wasn't the first time she had thought she was insane. It just made more sense to assume that now.
Hazel glanced out the window and saw a white owl flying outside of her window. Owls were never here, let alone at sunrise. And she had never seen a white owl anywhere before.
"Just when I thought my life couldn't get any weirder." Hazel said as she rolled her eyes. Then Hazel gasped and jumped out of bed to look out the window again. As her eyes followed the owl she furrowed her brow. The owl seemed familiar, but she didn't know where she had seen it before. Then she looked closer and noticed that the owl had an envelope attached to it leg. It flew into a window about four houses down. Hazel shrugged.
"Odd," she murmured. "Owls don't normally have letters attached to their legs, do they?" Hazel shook her head vigorously. "You're hallucinating Jones." She assured herself as she climbed back into bed. She caught a look at herself in her mirror and rolled her eyes once more.
"I'm wearing an old tee-shirt, My hair is more messed up than normal, my hair is down to my knees whoever heard of that, my glasses are on crooked and they have tape on the bridge of my nose, and I have bags under my eyes. I need to go to sleep." And with that Hazel lay back down and closed her eyes.
Hazel couldn't get back to sleep now that she was awake. She lay there thinking about her dreams, and wondering what they meant.
I could make a killer book series with these dreams. Hazel thought to herself smugly. I could be rich, famous, and still insane.
She began to feel hungry, so Hazel got up from bed again and put on her black robe. Yawning as she walked down the stairs, Hazel tied her robe loosely to her waist and slumped into the kitchen.
She yanked at the freezer door until it opened and pulled out a box of waffles. Yanking open the package she pulled out two of them and threw the rest onto the island. She shoved the waffles into the toaster and pushed the lever down but it popped back up. Undaunted, Hazel pushed the lever down again, and yet again it popped back up. Hazel growled in annoyance and pushed the lever down and held it down for a few seconds before she let go but to no prevail. No sooner had she let go of the lever it popped back up again. Thoroughly frustrated now she yanked open the silverware drawer grabbed a fork and slammed it shut again. The sound to tinkling silverware echoed around the kitchen. Hazel shoved the fork into the groove where the lever on the toaster moved up and down. As long as the fork was there it couldn't pop open.
Hazel slouched over to the table and sat down. She began thinking about the dream she had had when she woke up. Normally she wrote down what had happened in her dreams, but she had had this dream countless times and already had it recorded. She had been having this dream ever since she could remember. Mary and John had told her that when she was just a tiny baby she would awake with cold sweat running down her cheeks mixed with tears.
Hazel was jolted back to reality by the smell of smoke.
"My waffles!" Hazel ran over to the toaster and saw that she would be an idiot to take the fork out now. She could see that it was red hot just like the wires that were inside of the toaster. A small flame burst out from the top of the toaster and hit the cabinet above leaving a black mark where it hit.
Hazel leapt to the cabinet doors under her sink where the fire extinguisher was and pulled the pin. She pushed the button. Nothing happened. She pushed it again. Turning it over she saw that the valve on the fire extinguisher said 'Empty'.
Hazel growled in frustration and stood up too fast and banged her head on the cabinet. She swore and rubbed her head. She turned the sink on and grabbed the hose nozzle. She swept it along the toaster, napkins (which had also decided to burn), cabinet, and fork.
Finally the fire was out, the toaster was charred pretty badly, the cabinet above had soot all over the bottom of it, the napkins were gone, and Hazel was wide awake. The adrenalin in her veins was calming down now. Hazel had been unaware of the amount of noise she had made until she heard Mary call out to her.
"What's going on?" she asked groggily from upstairs.
"Nothing much." Hazel said. "I just set the toaster on fire."
"Oh, ok." She said, yawning. "That's nice honey." with another yawn Mary rolled over and went back to sleep.
Hazel massaged her forehead thinking about how much trouble she would be in tomorrow when Mary realized what she had done.
"If only I knew some magic." She said with a half grin. "Abra Kadabra! Alakazam! Iggy Wiggy Squiggy! Oculus Reparo!" Hazel watched as a jet of yellow light traveled from her hand to the toaster. Slapping her other hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, she watched as the toaster, cabinet, and napkins fixed themselves.
Hazel, with wide eyes, said, "Where did that come from?" and then she promptly fainted.
"Hazel, Hazel honey, Hazel." the world was spinning, and Mary's voice seemed slurred. Hazel opened her eyes and noticed right away that her glasses weren't on. The world was out of focus and she had a horrible headache.
"What happened?" she asked trying to sit up but Mary pushed her back down.
"We don't know what happened, but when we woke up you were lying here on the floor."
Memories of what happened earlier flooded back into her mind. She had set the toaster or fire and then she had put it out with the sink. And then she had. she had. fixed it with magic? No, that couldn't be right. Maybe she had better tell Mary and John about what happened. They could take her to the doctor and see if she was hallucinating. "Mum? Dad? Can I tell you what happened earlier?" Hazel asked. She wasn't sure if this was a good idea.
"Of course you can dear!" Her mother assured her.
"Well. at like three this morning I came downstairs to make a waffle and the lever wouldn't stay down so I shoved a fork into the groove. I forgot about it and it started a fire. By time I got the fire put out the toaster was charred, the napkins weren't even there anymore, and the cabinet was covered in soot.
"Then I joked about how I wished I knew magic," when she said magic Mary and John looked startled. "And I said magic words from fairy tales, you know, like Alakazam! Then I suddenly said 'Oculus Reparo' and - and the toaster fixed its self. Four hours ago that," she pointed to the toaster, cabinet, and napkins. "Was charred waste."
Mary and John shared a look. A look that Hazel read as, "should we tell her?"
John took a deep breath.
"Well. where do I start?" He laughed nervously. "From the beginning I suppose. Hazel, you're name is not Hazel Jones. We don't know what your last name is. But we do know your first name is Hazel." Mary wrung her hands and was obviously stalling for time.
"How-" Hazel began, but was cut off by John.
"Let me explain. Fourteen years ago, Mary and I were taking the subway to my head quarters. I work for the FBI and they had a case they wanted me to go on for a six-month mission. I insisted that I be able to bring my wife along and they finally gave in. We were on a journey to a place called Godric's Hollow, a place that was home to many people that are different from Mary and I.
"Anyway, we were there and Mary had wandered off and I could not find her. As I was on my search for her I came across a house and I saw a man, covered in a black cloak walk into the house. Screams and yells soon followed his arrival. I was under strict orders to stay away from any contact with people wearing cloaks. I don't know why, but that's what my boss instructed me. Then the house began crumbling around him but any pieces that fell towards him just bounced off as though there was an invisible shield made around him. He killed the adults that were there, and he tried to kill you and another little boy that was there.
"When he pointed at the cradle with some long, stick thing that you and the boy were in a flash of green light lit up the sky just like it had when he killed the adults, but this time as the light hit you and the boy, it bounced off and hit the man instead. He disappeared, and the house finished crumbling. It was then that I saw Mary darting over to the cradle that I had just seen, and she grabbed you. I yelled to her and she ran to me tearfully."
Now it was Mary's turn speak.
"I told John that there was another baby there in the cradle and if he would just let me take the other baby they would grow up together how they were meant to be. But he said no, and that I had caused enough damage already."
"So I guess what we're saying," John said. "Is. Hazel, you're a witch."
Hazel blinked. This could not be real. This was not real. She was dreaming. She pinched herself and it hurt. She pinched herself again and again until she had a red welt where she had been pinching.
"S-seriously?" she asked once she had found her voice.
"But, no. No, why do you assume that I-I'm a witch? I mean, just because you saw magic, and people with what I assume are wands, and-" Hazel broke off as she realized that she was being both stupid and irrational.
"Yes." John said. "We have one more thing for you. Well, we think it's for you but we're not sure. WE can't read it. We've tried countless times. So, here, why don't you read it?"
John walked over to his desk and pulled out an envelope addressed in green ink. She took one look at the name on the envelope and dropped it.
It said:
Ms. Hazel Potter
"It-it's the girl from my dream, the girl that that man tried to kill, the girl.she's - she's m-m-me. isn't she?" Hazel asked.
Slowly Mary nodded as though it was painful for her to admit that she had lied. Hazel thought she was going to faint again. So the little girl in the cradle in her dream was she, which meant that somebody had tried to kill her with a curse, but it had failed.
"Will I get to go to the school?" Hazel asked gesturing to the open letter that she held in her hand.
"We have no idea, honey." Mary said. "We don't know the who, what, where, when, why. We don't even know if they would take you now, because, well, look at the date on the letter."
Hazel turned over the piece of parchment and looked at the date in the corner. 7-31-1991 and a hot surge of anger took possession over her emotions.
"This is four years old." Hazel whispered coldly clearly pronouncing every syllable. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? How long were you expecting to keep this a secret from me? Forever? You should have told me when you got this! I'm not a baby. I could have handled the fact that I am a witch! Those other people that are there now, THEY were all told when they were eleven." Hazel was only whispering, but for all of the anger present in her voice she may as well have been yelling.
"Hazel, honey, we-"
"I hate you." With that she swept out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs into her room. She flopped onto her bed and buried her head under the pillow so she wouldn't hear Mary and John trying to talk to her.
Then, without warning, she felt something slither across her back. She flipped around and grabbed the thing with one hand, and the other hand was balled up into a fist. It was then that she took her first look at what had just crawled across her back.
"Helllllo." It hissed. "Do you undersssstand me, or are you another sssstupid human?"
She was dreaming, she had to be because the snake had just talked and snakes DO NOT TALK.
"Hello." Hazel said uncertainly to the snake. "What - what's your name?" she nearly jumped back when she listened to her voice. She hadn't spoken words as she had thought she had, but hissed and spat like the snake.
"My name issss Sssslither. Would you releasssse me?"
"How original." Hazel muttered. Then, talking louder so the snake could hear, she said, "Well, it was nice meeting you, and well, goodbye." She walked over to the window and dropped the snake out the window and into the window box. Then she slammed the window shut.
"Okay." She said as she sank down the wall. "I'm officially freaked out now."
She had known that when she said she hated them she would have to apologize some time, so she didn't know why it came as such a surprise when her conscience told her it was time to go say sorry. She just didn't know what to say, after all, she had just told the people that loved her she hated them, but why should she hate them? They had rescued her from a crumbling house, taken her into their own home, and they had raised her with love, trust, and care.
She obviously had been angry, but now that she wasn't so angry anymore she felt horrible.
"But how do you apologize to someone that you've just said you hate without getting in trouble?" Hazel asked herself.
Reluctantly Hazel opened her door and trudged down the stairs.
"Mary?" Hazel called quietly. "John? Please answer me. Mary, John?" Nobody answered. Hazel figured that this was because she had been so rude to them and they were showing the same respect to her. She thought this was a little childish though, even for them.
Walking around the whole of the downstairs, Hazel concluded that either they were hiding, or they weren't in the house.
This puzzled her because they would have told her if they were going to leave the house, wouldn't they? But a nasty voice of reason laughed nastily in the back of her mind.
"Oh, shut up." She muttered.
Suddenly the back door opened, causing Hazel to jump.
"Haze-" John began to yell, but then his eyes set on Hazel and he stopped. "Hazel." John said again, this time quieter. "There is someone out here who wants to see you."
Who, my mother? Hazel thought scornfully, but all the same she followed John out the door. He led her around the house and out the gate. Hazel wondered what was going on. He continued walking towards the forest. She wondered what needed this much secrecy. Were Mary and John going to leave her in the forest? Still following John, Hazel dug into her pockets for anything that she could leave a trail with, like Hansel and Gretel.
The contents of her pockets were two pennies, a tissue, a bent nail, and a bracelet. The bracelet had the initials HLP on it and up until today she had wondered what HLP stood for. She held the bracelet in her hand. It was her only key to her past that she had, other than the things Mary and John told her, and her dreams even though, she thought, my dreams aren't that reliable now are they?
John took a sharp turn left and Hazel almost didn't notice. Silently she told herself to pay more attention. If they were trying to get her lost, then they were going to have to work hard at it.
Hazel was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice that John had stopped, and she walked into him.
"Sorry." she muttered. Then she took her first good look at where they were and who was there. Mary and John were there, but there were also two other people that she didn't recognize. They wore robes and pointed hats. The man had a long beard and half moon glasses. The eyes behind the glasses were twinkling and she felt like she was getting x-rayed. The woman had her mahogany hair tied up in a bun under her hat, and she also had glasses, but her eyes didn't show the same twinkling as the man's. Her eyes looked worried and she seemed to be anxious about something. The woman, as well as the man's face, was set, as though they had to admit something that they didn't want to. It was the same facial expression that was on Mary's face.
Hazel, still staring at the two strangers in front of her, said, "Who are you?"
"Hazel." Mary hissed. "Be polite."
The man smiled at her and then he spoke. His voice was that of a wise man; it sounded like it had seen the many moods, great sadness, joy, jealousy, hate, love, and many more.
"I," the man said. "Am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have a longer and fancier title, but I fear I have forgotten most of it." The woman next to him rolled her eyes at that, but Hazel almost managed to smile. "Oh dear, where are my manners?" Dumbledore asked suddenly. "This is Professor Minerva McGonagall." Dumbledore said, gesturing towards the woman next to him.
"A pleasure to meet you Miss Hazel Potter." She said. "We are here to inform you about your education in the magical world, and to inform you of. other things. Do you have any questions for us?"
Millions of questions exploded in Hazel's head. What is my full name? Who are you really? Is this some kind of joke? Why are you here right now? But before she could stop herself, Hazel blurted out.
"Do I have any family left? There was. a boy.in my dream. and the guy in the black cloak tried to kill him and I, but it didn't work. Is the boy still alive?" Hazel mentally slapped herself. It was a dream, it wasn't real. There was no boy, was there? McGonagall and Dumbledore shared a look. She wasn't sure what this one meant, but it seemed they were contemplating what to tell her.
"Well. Ms. Potter." McGonagall began. "That is a matter beyond our hands. We have no authority to tell you."
"Kay. Um, Do I have a full name, like a middle name?"
Dumbledore's smile returned and he nodded once. "Yes. Your full name is Hazel Lily Potter." Then he added. "And a fine woman Lily was. Brave and full of life. She would have made a fine mother. No, no, let me rephrase that. She made a fine mother."
Her breath was uneven now, as Dumbledore mentioned Lily. "Lily - Lily was my mother, wasn't she?" It was more of a statement than a question.
"Yes." McGonagall whispered. It looked like she was going to cry. "This is probably none of my business, but, what's wrong?" McGonagall wiped her eyes and smiled faintly at Hazel. A smile that Hazel would later learn was very rare.
"Nothing is wrong my dear, nothing that can be fixed anyway. I'm sure that you have more questions. Go ahead, ask away."
Hazel sat in silence. Did she really trust these people? Was it just a big joke that Mary and John had cooked up? But then how could she explain all of the things that had been happening? There really wasn't any other way to explain the strange happenings, and everything fit in. The dreams.the magic.
Suddenly another question sparked in her head, and like before, she couldn't stop it from spilling out of her mouth.
"Sir, if you don't mind, how old are you?" Hazel gave herself an odd look.
"No, no, of course I don't mind. I am 195 years old. Now, if you don't mind I shall be taking you Hogwarts."
"Um. How are we going to get there? Isn't it like really far away?"
"Yes, you're right. I am going to open a vortex."
"A vortex?" Hazel echoed.
Dumbledore nodded and drew a long, thin piece of wood. Muttering under his breath, Dumbledore began to wave his wand at odd intervals. When he was quite finished, there was a little "tornado" of color. Dumbledore turned to Mary and John.
"Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Is it alright if I take Hazel to Hogwarts?" Mary nodded tearfully.
Hazel looked back at Mary again and noted that she looked miserable. Sighing silently, Hazel walked over to them, and hugged them. As they hugged, Hazel said, "I'm sorry." She felt like she needed to say more, but found that that was enough.
Releasing Mary and John she waved. Then she walked back over to Dumbledore, and he was smiling. He gestured for her to walk into the "tornado" of color and Hazel walked into it.
It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. The world was spinning and she seemed to be upside down when quite suddenly it stopped. But the sensation in her stomach did not stop for quite a long time.
Dumbledore and McGonagall arrived shortly after and McGonagall walked briskly out.
"I shall be right back." Dumbledore said.
With that Dumbledore walked out and Hazel got a good view of Dumbledore's office. A number of curious silver instruments puffed merry little wisps of smoke from various spindle-legged tables. Many beautiful pictures lined the walls and, with a start, Hazel realized all the subjects in the pictures were looking curiously at her, several of them leaving their frames to whisper to their neighbors. A decrepit-looking bird stood miserably in a golden cage next to the door, and cheeped morosely at her.
Hazel reached out to touch the bird and the bird burst into flames. Hazel jumped back and had a stunned look on her face.
"I'm dead." Hazel muttered. Just then Dumbledore walked in. "Sir! Sir! I don't know what happened but your-your bird well.um." Hazel stopped, looked at Dumbledore then added weakly - "Exploded?"
Dumbledore smiled and his beard quivered with amusement. "Ah, Miss Potter, my bird did indeed explode. Yet, it was his time to go anyway."
"It-it was?" Hazel asked uncertainly.
"Yes, and judging by your reaction you did not know that Fawks is a Phoenix. This particular Phoenix bursts into flames once every three years or so. Curious. I find it odd that your." Dumbledore suddenly trailed off not finishing his sentence.
"My what Professor? My what?" Hazel said insistently.
"Never mind Miss Potter. You shall soon find out I expect. Now, mind you none of the other teachers know who you are, so it shall come as a bit of a shock to them when I introduce you as Hazel Potter."
"Why?"
"Well," said Dumbledore. He paused as though trying to think of an evasive answer to her question, again. "Wasn't it a bit of a shock for you when you learned that your name was Hazel Potter?"
"Yes," Said Hazel. "I suppose." Then she muttered under her breath, "But it's MY name, not theirs. I have the right to be shocked when I find out that I'm not who I think I am, I think."
Dumbledore walked out of his office once more leaving Hazel alone with everything in his office.
When Dumbledore returned he was followed by what looked like 50 people.
"These are the Hogwarts Professors, Hazel." Hazel gulped and nodded. "Why don't you have a seat while I introduce you to everyone Hazel?"
As Hazel took her seat Dumbledore began introducing teachers. Was she going to have to memorize all of these names as well? "Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House, and Transfiguration teacher, as you know, Professor Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw House and Charms teacher, Professor Vector-" Dumbledore continued right until he got to the last teacher. "Ah, and Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Potions teacher." Since Dumbledore had finished talking several tight knots of teachers began talking. Hazel looked at Professor Snape.
Professor Hook-nosed-greasy-haired-slime ball, Hazel thought. As Hazel was looking at him, Professor Snape looked at her too, he had a thoughtful expression on his face for a second then turned away.
"Everyone," Dumbledore said in a slightly raised voice, which silenced the talking teachers. "I would like to introduce to you Miss Hazel Potter."
The room went dead silent and if Hazel hadn't been so worried about what was going to happen, she would have made cricket noises. Hazel also noticed that Professor Snape wrinkled his nose and turned away in disgust.
"Surely you are lying, Dumbledore." A misty-eyed teacher said. Hazel looked closely at the teacher. It looked like Professor Trelawney. How did I know that? Hazel asked herself. "There is no such being in recorded history!" She was using what Hazel thought was a fake accent to make her voice sound more - more something.
"Since when did you become an expert on history?" The ghost professor snapped. His name was Professor Binns.
"Since I began studying it!" Professor Trelawney said indignantly. Her voice had lost the "lust" and was now perfectly normal. "I still say this is a lie, Dumbledore, a trick made to tease the wizarding world." And with that she picked up he many skirts and swiftly walked out.
Noticing this the rest of the teachers left in small groups, talking to each other and pointing at Hazel.
Hazel sighed. Being accepted was going to be harder than she thought.
She had too many questions trapped in her head, and she needed to talk to someone. She knew two of the teachers and Dumbledore. Mind settling on talking to Dumbledore, she began to run down the endless corridors.
After fifteen minutes of searching (and worrying) Hazel found the two gargoyles that guarded Dumbledore's office, and most possibly his house.
"Password?" Said a raspy voice. Hazel jumped and nearly fell down. The gargoyle had talked. She was going to have to get used to this whole talking statuary thing.
"Er.this is important.could I get in without the password?" Hazel asked, with great difficulty owing to the second gargoyle that was flexing his muscles and smoothing them down again.
"No." Said the same gargoyle. She remembered from her dream that the password to Dumbledore's office seemed to be candies.
"Ok, um, lemon drop." "No." "Fizzing Whizbee." "No." "Fudge Ice." "No." "Blood Pops." "No." "Gummy Yummy Mud." "No." "Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans." "No." "Cauldron Cake." "No." "Chocolate Frog." "No." "Licorice Wand." "No." "Drooble's Best Blowing Gum." "No." "Pumpkin Pastie." "No."
Hazel was quite taken aback by her knowledge of these candies for she had never had nor heard of them before.
"Um. Cockroach Cluster?" Hazel ventured, and to her immense surprise the gargoyle sprang up and moved over to allow her in.
"Um, thanks." Hazel said. It was then and only then that she looked up and saw the hook nosed teacher, Professor Snape glaring down upon her.
"What are you doing Miss Pot- Jones?" He asked. His voice was barely over a whisper.
"Trying to find the Headmaster, Sir." Hazel asked, trying to keep dislike out of her voice.
"And why is that?"
"Because I have an important message for him and I would like to talk to him." Hazel said slowly. "And why were you in his office? Is he in there or do you often look in various offices, or-" Hazel stopped abruptly because Snape's eyes were narrowed into slits and he was glaring at her.
"If you are suggesting that I am unauthorized to go into the headmaster's office you are severely mistaken. I will see you in detention on the first day of school for your sharp mouth." With that he walked away and Hazel frowned. Was it fair to give out detention before school started? She wasn't quite sure. But she was sure that he was not her favorite teacher, he seemed to hate her.
Hazel slapped herself mentally. She was supposed to be looking for Dumbledore, not snipping about Snape, though it was fun.
Hazel leaned onto the wall and sunk down it. Why was everything she did something that caused trouble? She didn't try to cause the trouble, it just happened! She closed her eyes and remembered all of the fun things John and Mary used to do with her, so they weren't her blood parents, they were the parents that were there for her, and that is what should have been important.
"Miss Jones?" A voice said from overhead. Hazel snapped open her eyes. It was Dumbledore.
"Professor! I'm sorry, I was remembering things that have happened, er, I need to talk to you.."
"I assumed so." He said. "Because Professor Snape was very angry, muttering about 'that damn Potter girl'. So naturally I assumed that you had had something to do with it."
"Are you going to tell me anything about my brother?"
"Not today, Miss Jones. I needed to find you, you must begin your tests, and if my theory is correct."
"Right Professor, what theory?"
"It is not of importance. Please follow me to the Great Hall."
So Hazel followed Dumbledore down to the Great Hall. Hazel felt as though she would NEVER remember all of the passages and turns and staircases and trick steps. Hazel felt as though she was walking through her dreams again, and she seemed to be pretty good at remembering her way.
After nearly fifteen minutes of walking around the school, Hazel and Professor Dumbledore emerged in a room that Hazel had never imagined, even in her wildest dreams. The ceiling wasn't a ceiling. It was the sky, or at least that's what it looked like. And there were golden plates on every table!
"Hazel, if you please?" Professor McGonagall said sharply, jerking Hazel out of her daydreaming. "I teach Transfiguration and I am here to test you to see what year you belong in. Don't be discouraged if you land among the first years, because after all, you never knew that you were magical."
"Alright, what do I need to do first?" Hazel asked, sounding more confident than she felt. She wasn't really paying as much attention as she should have been. But who could pay attention when they were learning thousands of things all in 24 hours?
"You will turn this beetle into a button." Professor McGonagall said brandishing a golden beetle. "This test is to see how well you can do without assistance, so I am not to tell you what to do and you will do the best you can."
Hazel's eyes got as big as tennis balls. "You're not going to tell me how to do it?" Professor McGonagall shook her head.
"You are to do this on your own Miss Potter," Professor McGonagall's eyes got big then she said quickly and sharply, "Jones."
Hazel took a deep breath. I'll be ok, I mean all I have to do is wave my wand and concentrate on what I want to transfigure and-
"How did I know that?" Hazel demanded.
"How did you know what?" Professor McGonagall asked, slightly confused.
"I-I just knew how to transfigure something."
"Well then, let's start the test. Beetle to a button."
"Er, right." Hazel said uncertainly. Hazel concentrated hard on the beetle, which was difficult owing to the fact that it scurried around the table quite frequently. Actually, it never stopped.
Then it rolled off the table, and Hazel groaned expecting the beetle to either run away or be stepped upon. When she bent down to pick it up there was only a button on the ground! She had done it!
"Professor, here's my button." She said handing it to Professor McGonagall. Professor McGonagall's eyes got big.
"You have mastered what some first years cannot do at the end of the year, perhaps we should try something a little harder. Turn this porcupine into a pin cushion."
They went through the same routine four more times. Each time she had to do something different. Matches into needles, parchment into paper, teapot into a turtle, and when she ran out of material, forks and knives into napkins.
"Well," Professor McGonagall said after a conference with Professor Dumbledore. "You seem to fit in for the fifth year, but how I do not know. Now off you go to Professor Sprout to test your level in Herbology." But Hazel was sure she knew why. Everything was just like her dreams had been. She knew how to do things that she didn't even imagine could happen.
All of the tests went pretty much the same for Hazel. They tested her up to fourth year and pronounced her ready for the fifth year. The last test Hazel had to do was potions.
When Hazel walked over to Professor Snape she had the immediate impression that he loathed her.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," Hazel noticed that he hardly spoke above a whisper. "As there is little foolish wand waving here, you may hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you to really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - If you aren't as big a dunderhead as my past students I usually have to teach."
Hazel sat in silence after this pronouncement. Did he usually talk in speeches or was this a right saved for her? What did he mean by foolish wand waving? It wasn't foolish. It was very interesting. Hazel sat for a second longer and realized that she had "heard" that speech before. But where in a Non-magic establishment would she have heard that kind of stuff? She frowned.
"Miss Jones." Snape said abruptly. "What would I get if I added wolfsbane to infusion of lentracy?"
"Um, I don't know Sir." Hazel said watching a gleeful look cross Snape's face.
"Fine. Where would you look if I asked for talisman?"
"I don't know, Sir."
"Ah, decided not to open a book?"
I DON'T HAVE MY BOOKS YET! I AM BEING TESTED! WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO HAVE BOOKS? I WAS RAISED IN A NON-MAGICAL COMMUNITY! HELLO! Hazel thought furiously.
"No."
"Let's see how you do on brewing a potion."
The next half hour went like this for Hazel. Snape seemed to want her to fail and gave her a potion that she suspected was for graduates. Finally,
"You are done. I will give the headmaster your scores. Got to the headmaster's office."
With much relief Hazel walked down to Dumbledore's office. After all, she knew where it was now.
"Miss Jones. Me among many of the other professors have all agreed," When Dumbledore said 'agreed' Hazel distinctly saw Snape's eyes narrow. "That you belong in class with the fifth years. Now I know it has been a busy day, but you are to lodge here tonight. I have already informed your guardians and they are expecting you tomorrow morning at 11 o' clock sharp. Professor McGonagall, if you please?" Dumbledore nodded towards Hazel and Professor McGonagall walked forward.
"I am going to show you to your dormitory. You need to have this memorized by the beginning of the term so the other students your age will not suspect otherwise."
Suspect otherwise what?
"Alright Professor, but I think I know the way already." Subconsciously, anyway. Hazel thought.
"Really?" Professor McGonagall said skeptically.
"Yea." Hazel said. "Can I go and if I am going the wrong way you can correct me?" This is just like my dreams. I just have to walk and distract myself so that my subconscious can lead me. This realization over, Hazel continued to walk to the dormitory.
"I suppose."
Together they walked along many passages and Hazel just let her feet do all of the walking and she did all of the talking.
Finally they emerged in front of a portrait of a very fat lady.
"Password?" she said the moment they stopped in front of her.
"Laring- PEEVES!" A pile of what looked like fireworks was hovering over their heads.
"What are those?" Hazel asked, pointing to the 'fireworks' over their heads.
"Those are dungbombs." Professor McGonagall said.
"Dungbombs? Um, if you don't mind I'd rather not be here."
"I do mind. Stay right here. I will be right back."
"But-no!-Why are you leaving me?- I don't know what to do- What happens if he-" Never mind.
With that Professor McGonagall disappeared.
"Sure," Hazel yelled after Professor McGonagall. "Leave me to do the dirty a-and smelly work!"
Professor McGonagall returned with a man that looked like he was a hobo. His hair was a mess, and his leather coat didn't help. Behind the man was a ghost. He looked like he had silvery-white blood all over him.
"Baron, Filch you may want to take a look at Peeves." She gestured to the ceiling where Peeves was pretending to be Hazel. He had already dropped the dungbombs and it reeked.
Peeves was changing his form to look like Hazel and he put on a pink frilly dress with a hoop skirt. Hazel glared at Peeves. She didn't know why, but she made a grabbing motion with her hand and an orb materialized, floating over her hand. When Peeves saw the orb he let out a horrible yell and was sucked into the orb.
Hazel stood there with the orb floating over her hand and Peeves inside of it, fully aware that Professor McGonagall, Filch and the ghost were all staring at her.
"No, no! Not Harry, please not Harry!" A woman screamed into the night. The woman had flaming red hair and emerald eyes. Emerald eyes that were full of fear, hatred, and confusion all at once in the dim light.
"Kill me! Take me, not him! Please, not Harry!" She continued silent tears flowing down her face. Her face was set, as though she was making the hardest decision of her life.
"Foolish woman!" A second voice laughed. His voice was cold and mirthless. And his looks matched the evil voice exactly. His red eyes were burning with hatred, and his pale skin glowed where the wand that he held in his hand shone.
"Avada Kedavra!" The man's voice said. Then the man turned to the little boy that was sitting in his cradle.
"So," the man whispered. "Harry Potter. Why don't you hold nice and still, maybe even stand up straight so Lord Voldemort can take care of you just like he did with your daddy. With your mother and father gone there is no hope for you Harry Potter. The girl did not inherit the power but she insisted that I kill her too. Ha! Your father thought he could hold me off did he?"
Lord Voldemort drew his wand to the tip of Harry's nose and poked it. "Goodbye Harry Potter. Avada Kedavra."
A flash of green light illuminated the sky briefly as the curse found its victims. But unknown to Lord Voldemort, the sacrifice "that foolish woman" had made, saved the two babies now unconscious in the cradle, but the woman had only meant to save one of the two babies that night.
What was meant to be the end was really the beginning.
Hazel Jones snapped open her eyes, drenched in cold sweat, and rubbed her forehead. She felt the lightning shaped scar on her forehead. Her parents, Mary and John Jones, has told her that when she was six or seven months old she had found a pair of scissors and before they found her she had massacred her own forehead. Mary often said she should have seen this as a sign of things to come. Hazel found interest in many things that were odd for fifteen-year-old girls to like. Swords, knives, ancient Roman battles, Egyptian "magic", and other such things. At least her history teacher was thrilled.
Her parents had always told her to stay out of trouble, but that was easier said than done. When she was eleven she had been playing in the older students' chemistry lab and broke their competition equipment. The second she had realized that she was going to be in a lot of trouble they started putting themselves back together. She never went back in there again. Whenever she was told to go in there she claimed that it was haunted and refused to go. If they insisted she covered her ears with her hands and hummed loudly.
But that wasn't the only time something odd happened to her. It continued to happen at least once a month until she turned twelve. The kids that were in her grade already didn't like her, but when odd things started happening they started rumors that she was possessed, that there were ghosts that haunted her, and that she was a witch. When she told her parents about the last rumor they had seemed a little panicky. They had told her (rather oddly in high-pitched voices) not to worry and that the whole thing would blow over when the kids found something else to talk about. She had always thought there was something that they hadn't told her, but it was then and there that she made a silent promise to herself that she would find out what it was before she turned thirteen.
And here she was, fifteen years old and no closer to finding out what it was than she was to walking on water. They were hiding something from her, and whatever it was they were hiding it well.
Hazel was no ordinary girl. Her jet-black hair reached her knees and was a disaster, always. She wore glasses that were black-rimmed circles with tape around the bridge of the nose from walking into walls and tripping, of which she usually did once a day. She was far too skinny to look healthy and she had a lightning bolt scar on her forehead.
Hazel stared at her ceiling. What was with her freaky dreams? She had been having odd dreams ever since she was eleven. Her first one had been a dream of the boy named Harry Potter going to a magical school. She had seen him go to a place to buy things and then rode on a train to get to the weird school. Once the train had started she had woken up. But the next night her dreams picked up exactly where they had left off the previous night. She had even had a crazy night where she had dreamed that him and his friends a boy with flaming red hair and a girl with bushy brown hair had rescued this shiny red stone thing. It was like a never-ending dream that happened directly after the last one.
Then the next year the same thing happened. But that year the boy and his friends had gone through a completely different set of adventures. But it was always the same people, the same train, and the same place. She couldn't remember everything, like the names of the places that they went to or saw. But there was one name that seemed to be stuck in her head, but it was preposterous. She had the compelling feeling that the castle that they returned to every year was called Hogwarts.
Then the year she turned thirteen the dreams had begun again, but this time, as was last year, the dreams held different adventures for the three characters of her dreams. It was like a never-ending story. It was as-if the people were actually real and she was just watching what happened in their lives like her mother watched soap operas.
And then, just last year, the dreams had taken a more dramatic turn. That year more serious things happened in the "story" inside of her mind. And the death of four people had been revealed. Evil had become strong again and the people of power had not believed it.
"Hazel, you're cracking. Is insanity possible at fifteen?" Hazel muttered to herself. It wasn't the first time she had thought she was insane. It just made more sense to assume that now.
Hazel glanced out the window and saw a white owl flying outside of her window. Owls were never here, let alone at sunrise. And she had never seen a white owl anywhere before.
"Just when I thought my life couldn't get any weirder." Hazel said as she rolled her eyes. Then Hazel gasped and jumped out of bed to look out the window again. As her eyes followed the owl she furrowed her brow. The owl seemed familiar, but she didn't know where she had seen it before. Then she looked closer and noticed that the owl had an envelope attached to it leg. It flew into a window about four houses down. Hazel shrugged.
"Odd," she murmured. "Owls don't normally have letters attached to their legs, do they?" Hazel shook her head vigorously. "You're hallucinating Jones." She assured herself as she climbed back into bed. She caught a look at herself in her mirror and rolled her eyes once more.
"I'm wearing an old tee-shirt, My hair is more messed up than normal, my hair is down to my knees whoever heard of that, my glasses are on crooked and they have tape on the bridge of my nose, and I have bags under my eyes. I need to go to sleep." And with that Hazel lay back down and closed her eyes.
Hazel couldn't get back to sleep now that she was awake. She lay there thinking about her dreams, and wondering what they meant.
I could make a killer book series with these dreams. Hazel thought to herself smugly. I could be rich, famous, and still insane.
She began to feel hungry, so Hazel got up from bed again and put on her black robe. Yawning as she walked down the stairs, Hazel tied her robe loosely to her waist and slumped into the kitchen.
She yanked at the freezer door until it opened and pulled out a box of waffles. Yanking open the package she pulled out two of them and threw the rest onto the island. She shoved the waffles into the toaster and pushed the lever down but it popped back up. Undaunted, Hazel pushed the lever down again, and yet again it popped back up. Hazel growled in annoyance and pushed the lever down and held it down for a few seconds before she let go but to no prevail. No sooner had she let go of the lever it popped back up again. Thoroughly frustrated now she yanked open the silverware drawer grabbed a fork and slammed it shut again. The sound to tinkling silverware echoed around the kitchen. Hazel shoved the fork into the groove where the lever on the toaster moved up and down. As long as the fork was there it couldn't pop open.
Hazel slouched over to the table and sat down. She began thinking about the dream she had had when she woke up. Normally she wrote down what had happened in her dreams, but she had had this dream countless times and already had it recorded. She had been having this dream ever since she could remember. Mary and John had told her that when she was just a tiny baby she would awake with cold sweat running down her cheeks mixed with tears.
Hazel was jolted back to reality by the smell of smoke.
"My waffles!" Hazel ran over to the toaster and saw that she would be an idiot to take the fork out now. She could see that it was red hot just like the wires that were inside of the toaster. A small flame burst out from the top of the toaster and hit the cabinet above leaving a black mark where it hit.
Hazel leapt to the cabinet doors under her sink where the fire extinguisher was and pulled the pin. She pushed the button. Nothing happened. She pushed it again. Turning it over she saw that the valve on the fire extinguisher said 'Empty'.
Hazel growled in frustration and stood up too fast and banged her head on the cabinet. She swore and rubbed her head. She turned the sink on and grabbed the hose nozzle. She swept it along the toaster, napkins (which had also decided to burn), cabinet, and fork.
Finally the fire was out, the toaster was charred pretty badly, the cabinet above had soot all over the bottom of it, the napkins were gone, and Hazel was wide awake. The adrenalin in her veins was calming down now. Hazel had been unaware of the amount of noise she had made until she heard Mary call out to her.
"What's going on?" she asked groggily from upstairs.
"Nothing much." Hazel said. "I just set the toaster on fire."
"Oh, ok." She said, yawning. "That's nice honey." with another yawn Mary rolled over and went back to sleep.
Hazel massaged her forehead thinking about how much trouble she would be in tomorrow when Mary realized what she had done.
"If only I knew some magic." She said with a half grin. "Abra Kadabra! Alakazam! Iggy Wiggy Squiggy! Oculus Reparo!" Hazel watched as a jet of yellow light traveled from her hand to the toaster. Slapping her other hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, she watched as the toaster, cabinet, and napkins fixed themselves.
Hazel, with wide eyes, said, "Where did that come from?" and then she promptly fainted.
"Hazel, Hazel honey, Hazel." the world was spinning, and Mary's voice seemed slurred. Hazel opened her eyes and noticed right away that her glasses weren't on. The world was out of focus and she had a horrible headache.
"What happened?" she asked trying to sit up but Mary pushed her back down.
"We don't know what happened, but when we woke up you were lying here on the floor."
Memories of what happened earlier flooded back into her mind. She had set the toaster or fire and then she had put it out with the sink. And then she had. she had. fixed it with magic? No, that couldn't be right. Maybe she had better tell Mary and John about what happened. They could take her to the doctor and see if she was hallucinating. "Mum? Dad? Can I tell you what happened earlier?" Hazel asked. She wasn't sure if this was a good idea.
"Of course you can dear!" Her mother assured her.
"Well. at like three this morning I came downstairs to make a waffle and the lever wouldn't stay down so I shoved a fork into the groove. I forgot about it and it started a fire. By time I got the fire put out the toaster was charred, the napkins weren't even there anymore, and the cabinet was covered in soot.
"Then I joked about how I wished I knew magic," when she said magic Mary and John looked startled. "And I said magic words from fairy tales, you know, like Alakazam! Then I suddenly said 'Oculus Reparo' and - and the toaster fixed its self. Four hours ago that," she pointed to the toaster, cabinet, and napkins. "Was charred waste."
Mary and John shared a look. A look that Hazel read as, "should we tell her?"
John took a deep breath.
"Well. where do I start?" He laughed nervously. "From the beginning I suppose. Hazel, you're name is not Hazel Jones. We don't know what your last name is. But we do know your first name is Hazel." Mary wrung her hands and was obviously stalling for time.
"How-" Hazel began, but was cut off by John.
"Let me explain. Fourteen years ago, Mary and I were taking the subway to my head quarters. I work for the FBI and they had a case they wanted me to go on for a six-month mission. I insisted that I be able to bring my wife along and they finally gave in. We were on a journey to a place called Godric's Hollow, a place that was home to many people that are different from Mary and I.
"Anyway, we were there and Mary had wandered off and I could not find her. As I was on my search for her I came across a house and I saw a man, covered in a black cloak walk into the house. Screams and yells soon followed his arrival. I was under strict orders to stay away from any contact with people wearing cloaks. I don't know why, but that's what my boss instructed me. Then the house began crumbling around him but any pieces that fell towards him just bounced off as though there was an invisible shield made around him. He killed the adults that were there, and he tried to kill you and another little boy that was there.
"When he pointed at the cradle with some long, stick thing that you and the boy were in a flash of green light lit up the sky just like it had when he killed the adults, but this time as the light hit you and the boy, it bounced off and hit the man instead. He disappeared, and the house finished crumbling. It was then that I saw Mary darting over to the cradle that I had just seen, and she grabbed you. I yelled to her and she ran to me tearfully."
Now it was Mary's turn speak.
"I told John that there was another baby there in the cradle and if he would just let me take the other baby they would grow up together how they were meant to be. But he said no, and that I had caused enough damage already."
"So I guess what we're saying," John said. "Is. Hazel, you're a witch."
Hazel blinked. This could not be real. This was not real. She was dreaming. She pinched herself and it hurt. She pinched herself again and again until she had a red welt where she had been pinching.
"S-seriously?" she asked once she had found her voice.
"But, no. No, why do you assume that I-I'm a witch? I mean, just because you saw magic, and people with what I assume are wands, and-" Hazel broke off as she realized that she was being both stupid and irrational.
"Yes." John said. "We have one more thing for you. Well, we think it's for you but we're not sure. WE can't read it. We've tried countless times. So, here, why don't you read it?"
John walked over to his desk and pulled out an envelope addressed in green ink. She took one look at the name on the envelope and dropped it.
It said:
Ms. Hazel Potter
"It-it's the girl from my dream, the girl that that man tried to kill, the girl.she's - she's m-m-me. isn't she?" Hazel asked.
Slowly Mary nodded as though it was painful for her to admit that she had lied. Hazel thought she was going to faint again. So the little girl in the cradle in her dream was she, which meant that somebody had tried to kill her with a curse, but it had failed.
"Will I get to go to the school?" Hazel asked gesturing to the open letter that she held in her hand.
"We have no idea, honey." Mary said. "We don't know the who, what, where, when, why. We don't even know if they would take you now, because, well, look at the date on the letter."
Hazel turned over the piece of parchment and looked at the date in the corner. 7-31-1991 and a hot surge of anger took possession over her emotions.
"This is four years old." Hazel whispered coldly clearly pronouncing every syllable. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? How long were you expecting to keep this a secret from me? Forever? You should have told me when you got this! I'm not a baby. I could have handled the fact that I am a witch! Those other people that are there now, THEY were all told when they were eleven." Hazel was only whispering, but for all of the anger present in her voice she may as well have been yelling.
"Hazel, honey, we-"
"I hate you." With that she swept out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs into her room. She flopped onto her bed and buried her head under the pillow so she wouldn't hear Mary and John trying to talk to her.
Then, without warning, she felt something slither across her back. She flipped around and grabbed the thing with one hand, and the other hand was balled up into a fist. It was then that she took her first look at what had just crawled across her back.
"Helllllo." It hissed. "Do you undersssstand me, or are you another sssstupid human?"
She was dreaming, she had to be because the snake had just talked and snakes DO NOT TALK.
"Hello." Hazel said uncertainly to the snake. "What - what's your name?" she nearly jumped back when she listened to her voice. She hadn't spoken words as she had thought she had, but hissed and spat like the snake.
"My name issss Sssslither. Would you releasssse me?"
"How original." Hazel muttered. Then, talking louder so the snake could hear, she said, "Well, it was nice meeting you, and well, goodbye." She walked over to the window and dropped the snake out the window and into the window box. Then she slammed the window shut.
"Okay." She said as she sank down the wall. "I'm officially freaked out now."
She had known that when she said she hated them she would have to apologize some time, so she didn't know why it came as such a surprise when her conscience told her it was time to go say sorry. She just didn't know what to say, after all, she had just told the people that loved her she hated them, but why should she hate them? They had rescued her from a crumbling house, taken her into their own home, and they had raised her with love, trust, and care.
She obviously had been angry, but now that she wasn't so angry anymore she felt horrible.
"But how do you apologize to someone that you've just said you hate without getting in trouble?" Hazel asked herself.
Reluctantly Hazel opened her door and trudged down the stairs.
"Mary?" Hazel called quietly. "John? Please answer me. Mary, John?" Nobody answered. Hazel figured that this was because she had been so rude to them and they were showing the same respect to her. She thought this was a little childish though, even for them.
Walking around the whole of the downstairs, Hazel concluded that either they were hiding, or they weren't in the house.
This puzzled her because they would have told her if they were going to leave the house, wouldn't they? But a nasty voice of reason laughed nastily in the back of her mind.
"Oh, shut up." She muttered.
Suddenly the back door opened, causing Hazel to jump.
"Haze-" John began to yell, but then his eyes set on Hazel and he stopped. "Hazel." John said again, this time quieter. "There is someone out here who wants to see you."
Who, my mother? Hazel thought scornfully, but all the same she followed John out the door. He led her around the house and out the gate. Hazel wondered what was going on. He continued walking towards the forest. She wondered what needed this much secrecy. Were Mary and John going to leave her in the forest? Still following John, Hazel dug into her pockets for anything that she could leave a trail with, like Hansel and Gretel.
The contents of her pockets were two pennies, a tissue, a bent nail, and a bracelet. The bracelet had the initials HLP on it and up until today she had wondered what HLP stood for. She held the bracelet in her hand. It was her only key to her past that she had, other than the things Mary and John told her, and her dreams even though, she thought, my dreams aren't that reliable now are they?
John took a sharp turn left and Hazel almost didn't notice. Silently she told herself to pay more attention. If they were trying to get her lost, then they were going to have to work hard at it.
Hazel was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice that John had stopped, and she walked into him.
"Sorry." she muttered. Then she took her first good look at where they were and who was there. Mary and John were there, but there were also two other people that she didn't recognize. They wore robes and pointed hats. The man had a long beard and half moon glasses. The eyes behind the glasses were twinkling and she felt like she was getting x-rayed. The woman had her mahogany hair tied up in a bun under her hat, and she also had glasses, but her eyes didn't show the same twinkling as the man's. Her eyes looked worried and she seemed to be anxious about something. The woman, as well as the man's face, was set, as though they had to admit something that they didn't want to. It was the same facial expression that was on Mary's face.
Hazel, still staring at the two strangers in front of her, said, "Who are you?"
"Hazel." Mary hissed. "Be polite."
The man smiled at her and then he spoke. His voice was that of a wise man; it sounded like it had seen the many moods, great sadness, joy, jealousy, hate, love, and many more.
"I," the man said. "Am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have a longer and fancier title, but I fear I have forgotten most of it." The woman next to him rolled her eyes at that, but Hazel almost managed to smile. "Oh dear, where are my manners?" Dumbledore asked suddenly. "This is Professor Minerva McGonagall." Dumbledore said, gesturing towards the woman next to him.
"A pleasure to meet you Miss Hazel Potter." She said. "We are here to inform you about your education in the magical world, and to inform you of. other things. Do you have any questions for us?"
Millions of questions exploded in Hazel's head. What is my full name? Who are you really? Is this some kind of joke? Why are you here right now? But before she could stop herself, Hazel blurted out.
"Do I have any family left? There was. a boy.in my dream. and the guy in the black cloak tried to kill him and I, but it didn't work. Is the boy still alive?" Hazel mentally slapped herself. It was a dream, it wasn't real. There was no boy, was there? McGonagall and Dumbledore shared a look. She wasn't sure what this one meant, but it seemed they were contemplating what to tell her.
"Well. Ms. Potter." McGonagall began. "That is a matter beyond our hands. We have no authority to tell you."
"Kay. Um, Do I have a full name, like a middle name?"
Dumbledore's smile returned and he nodded once. "Yes. Your full name is Hazel Lily Potter." Then he added. "And a fine woman Lily was. Brave and full of life. She would have made a fine mother. No, no, let me rephrase that. She made a fine mother."
Her breath was uneven now, as Dumbledore mentioned Lily. "Lily - Lily was my mother, wasn't she?" It was more of a statement than a question.
"Yes." McGonagall whispered. It looked like she was going to cry. "This is probably none of my business, but, what's wrong?" McGonagall wiped her eyes and smiled faintly at Hazel. A smile that Hazel would later learn was very rare.
"Nothing is wrong my dear, nothing that can be fixed anyway. I'm sure that you have more questions. Go ahead, ask away."
Hazel sat in silence. Did she really trust these people? Was it just a big joke that Mary and John had cooked up? But then how could she explain all of the things that had been happening? There really wasn't any other way to explain the strange happenings, and everything fit in. The dreams.the magic.
Suddenly another question sparked in her head, and like before, she couldn't stop it from spilling out of her mouth.
"Sir, if you don't mind, how old are you?" Hazel gave herself an odd look.
"No, no, of course I don't mind. I am 195 years old. Now, if you don't mind I shall be taking you Hogwarts."
"Um. How are we going to get there? Isn't it like really far away?"
"Yes, you're right. I am going to open a vortex."
"A vortex?" Hazel echoed.
Dumbledore nodded and drew a long, thin piece of wood. Muttering under his breath, Dumbledore began to wave his wand at odd intervals. When he was quite finished, there was a little "tornado" of color. Dumbledore turned to Mary and John.
"Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Is it alright if I take Hazel to Hogwarts?" Mary nodded tearfully.
Hazel looked back at Mary again and noted that she looked miserable. Sighing silently, Hazel walked over to them, and hugged them. As they hugged, Hazel said, "I'm sorry." She felt like she needed to say more, but found that that was enough.
Releasing Mary and John she waved. Then she walked back over to Dumbledore, and he was smiling. He gestured for her to walk into the "tornado" of color and Hazel walked into it.
It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. The world was spinning and she seemed to be upside down when quite suddenly it stopped. But the sensation in her stomach did not stop for quite a long time.
Dumbledore and McGonagall arrived shortly after and McGonagall walked briskly out.
"I shall be right back." Dumbledore said.
With that Dumbledore walked out and Hazel got a good view of Dumbledore's office. A number of curious silver instruments puffed merry little wisps of smoke from various spindle-legged tables. Many beautiful pictures lined the walls and, with a start, Hazel realized all the subjects in the pictures were looking curiously at her, several of them leaving their frames to whisper to their neighbors. A decrepit-looking bird stood miserably in a golden cage next to the door, and cheeped morosely at her.
Hazel reached out to touch the bird and the bird burst into flames. Hazel jumped back and had a stunned look on her face.
"I'm dead." Hazel muttered. Just then Dumbledore walked in. "Sir! Sir! I don't know what happened but your-your bird well.um." Hazel stopped, looked at Dumbledore then added weakly - "Exploded?"
Dumbledore smiled and his beard quivered with amusement. "Ah, Miss Potter, my bird did indeed explode. Yet, it was his time to go anyway."
"It-it was?" Hazel asked uncertainly.
"Yes, and judging by your reaction you did not know that Fawks is a Phoenix. This particular Phoenix bursts into flames once every three years or so. Curious. I find it odd that your." Dumbledore suddenly trailed off not finishing his sentence.
"My what Professor? My what?" Hazel said insistently.
"Never mind Miss Potter. You shall soon find out I expect. Now, mind you none of the other teachers know who you are, so it shall come as a bit of a shock to them when I introduce you as Hazel Potter."
"Why?"
"Well," said Dumbledore. He paused as though trying to think of an evasive answer to her question, again. "Wasn't it a bit of a shock for you when you learned that your name was Hazel Potter?"
"Yes," Said Hazel. "I suppose." Then she muttered under her breath, "But it's MY name, not theirs. I have the right to be shocked when I find out that I'm not who I think I am, I think."
Dumbledore walked out of his office once more leaving Hazel alone with everything in his office.
When Dumbledore returned he was followed by what looked like 50 people.
"These are the Hogwarts Professors, Hazel." Hazel gulped and nodded. "Why don't you have a seat while I introduce you to everyone Hazel?"
As Hazel took her seat Dumbledore began introducing teachers. Was she going to have to memorize all of these names as well? "Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House, and Transfiguration teacher, as you know, Professor Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw House and Charms teacher, Professor Vector-" Dumbledore continued right until he got to the last teacher. "Ah, and Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Potions teacher." Since Dumbledore had finished talking several tight knots of teachers began talking. Hazel looked at Professor Snape.
Professor Hook-nosed-greasy-haired-slime ball, Hazel thought. As Hazel was looking at him, Professor Snape looked at her too, he had a thoughtful expression on his face for a second then turned away.
"Everyone," Dumbledore said in a slightly raised voice, which silenced the talking teachers. "I would like to introduce to you Miss Hazel Potter."
The room went dead silent and if Hazel hadn't been so worried about what was going to happen, she would have made cricket noises. Hazel also noticed that Professor Snape wrinkled his nose and turned away in disgust.
"Surely you are lying, Dumbledore." A misty-eyed teacher said. Hazel looked closely at the teacher. It looked like Professor Trelawney. How did I know that? Hazel asked herself. "There is no such being in recorded history!" She was using what Hazel thought was a fake accent to make her voice sound more - more something.
"Since when did you become an expert on history?" The ghost professor snapped. His name was Professor Binns.
"Since I began studying it!" Professor Trelawney said indignantly. Her voice had lost the "lust" and was now perfectly normal. "I still say this is a lie, Dumbledore, a trick made to tease the wizarding world." And with that she picked up he many skirts and swiftly walked out.
Noticing this the rest of the teachers left in small groups, talking to each other and pointing at Hazel.
Hazel sighed. Being accepted was going to be harder than she thought.
She had too many questions trapped in her head, and she needed to talk to someone. She knew two of the teachers and Dumbledore. Mind settling on talking to Dumbledore, she began to run down the endless corridors.
After fifteen minutes of searching (and worrying) Hazel found the two gargoyles that guarded Dumbledore's office, and most possibly his house.
"Password?" Said a raspy voice. Hazel jumped and nearly fell down. The gargoyle had talked. She was going to have to get used to this whole talking statuary thing.
"Er.this is important.could I get in without the password?" Hazel asked, with great difficulty owing to the second gargoyle that was flexing his muscles and smoothing them down again.
"No." Said the same gargoyle. She remembered from her dream that the password to Dumbledore's office seemed to be candies.
"Ok, um, lemon drop." "No." "Fizzing Whizbee." "No." "Fudge Ice." "No." "Blood Pops." "No." "Gummy Yummy Mud." "No." "Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans." "No." "Cauldron Cake." "No." "Chocolate Frog." "No." "Licorice Wand." "No." "Drooble's Best Blowing Gum." "No." "Pumpkin Pastie." "No."
Hazel was quite taken aback by her knowledge of these candies for she had never had nor heard of them before.
"Um. Cockroach Cluster?" Hazel ventured, and to her immense surprise the gargoyle sprang up and moved over to allow her in.
"Um, thanks." Hazel said. It was then and only then that she looked up and saw the hook nosed teacher, Professor Snape glaring down upon her.
"What are you doing Miss Pot- Jones?" He asked. His voice was barely over a whisper.
"Trying to find the Headmaster, Sir." Hazel asked, trying to keep dislike out of her voice.
"And why is that?"
"Because I have an important message for him and I would like to talk to him." Hazel said slowly. "And why were you in his office? Is he in there or do you often look in various offices, or-" Hazel stopped abruptly because Snape's eyes were narrowed into slits and he was glaring at her.
"If you are suggesting that I am unauthorized to go into the headmaster's office you are severely mistaken. I will see you in detention on the first day of school for your sharp mouth." With that he walked away and Hazel frowned. Was it fair to give out detention before school started? She wasn't quite sure. But she was sure that he was not her favorite teacher, he seemed to hate her.
Hazel slapped herself mentally. She was supposed to be looking for Dumbledore, not snipping about Snape, though it was fun.
Hazel leaned onto the wall and sunk down it. Why was everything she did something that caused trouble? She didn't try to cause the trouble, it just happened! She closed her eyes and remembered all of the fun things John and Mary used to do with her, so they weren't her blood parents, they were the parents that were there for her, and that is what should have been important.
"Miss Jones?" A voice said from overhead. Hazel snapped open her eyes. It was Dumbledore.
"Professor! I'm sorry, I was remembering things that have happened, er, I need to talk to you.."
"I assumed so." He said. "Because Professor Snape was very angry, muttering about 'that damn Potter girl'. So naturally I assumed that you had had something to do with it."
"Are you going to tell me anything about my brother?"
"Not today, Miss Jones. I needed to find you, you must begin your tests, and if my theory is correct."
"Right Professor, what theory?"
"It is not of importance. Please follow me to the Great Hall."
So Hazel followed Dumbledore down to the Great Hall. Hazel felt as though she would NEVER remember all of the passages and turns and staircases and trick steps. Hazel felt as though she was walking through her dreams again, and she seemed to be pretty good at remembering her way.
After nearly fifteen minutes of walking around the school, Hazel and Professor Dumbledore emerged in a room that Hazel had never imagined, even in her wildest dreams. The ceiling wasn't a ceiling. It was the sky, or at least that's what it looked like. And there were golden plates on every table!
"Hazel, if you please?" Professor McGonagall said sharply, jerking Hazel out of her daydreaming. "I teach Transfiguration and I am here to test you to see what year you belong in. Don't be discouraged if you land among the first years, because after all, you never knew that you were magical."
"Alright, what do I need to do first?" Hazel asked, sounding more confident than she felt. She wasn't really paying as much attention as she should have been. But who could pay attention when they were learning thousands of things all in 24 hours?
"You will turn this beetle into a button." Professor McGonagall said brandishing a golden beetle. "This test is to see how well you can do without assistance, so I am not to tell you what to do and you will do the best you can."
Hazel's eyes got as big as tennis balls. "You're not going to tell me how to do it?" Professor McGonagall shook her head.
"You are to do this on your own Miss Potter," Professor McGonagall's eyes got big then she said quickly and sharply, "Jones."
Hazel took a deep breath. I'll be ok, I mean all I have to do is wave my wand and concentrate on what I want to transfigure and-
"How did I know that?" Hazel demanded.
"How did you know what?" Professor McGonagall asked, slightly confused.
"I-I just knew how to transfigure something."
"Well then, let's start the test. Beetle to a button."
"Er, right." Hazel said uncertainly. Hazel concentrated hard on the beetle, which was difficult owing to the fact that it scurried around the table quite frequently. Actually, it never stopped.
Then it rolled off the table, and Hazel groaned expecting the beetle to either run away or be stepped upon. When she bent down to pick it up there was only a button on the ground! She had done it!
"Professor, here's my button." She said handing it to Professor McGonagall. Professor McGonagall's eyes got big.
"You have mastered what some first years cannot do at the end of the year, perhaps we should try something a little harder. Turn this porcupine into a pin cushion."
They went through the same routine four more times. Each time she had to do something different. Matches into needles, parchment into paper, teapot into a turtle, and when she ran out of material, forks and knives into napkins.
"Well," Professor McGonagall said after a conference with Professor Dumbledore. "You seem to fit in for the fifth year, but how I do not know. Now off you go to Professor Sprout to test your level in Herbology." But Hazel was sure she knew why. Everything was just like her dreams had been. She knew how to do things that she didn't even imagine could happen.
All of the tests went pretty much the same for Hazel. They tested her up to fourth year and pronounced her ready for the fifth year. The last test Hazel had to do was potions.
When Hazel walked over to Professor Snape she had the immediate impression that he loathed her.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," Hazel noticed that he hardly spoke above a whisper. "As there is little foolish wand waving here, you may hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you to really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - If you aren't as big a dunderhead as my past students I usually have to teach."
Hazel sat in silence after this pronouncement. Did he usually talk in speeches or was this a right saved for her? What did he mean by foolish wand waving? It wasn't foolish. It was very interesting. Hazel sat for a second longer and realized that she had "heard" that speech before. But where in a Non-magic establishment would she have heard that kind of stuff? She frowned.
"Miss Jones." Snape said abruptly. "What would I get if I added wolfsbane to infusion of lentracy?"
"Um, I don't know Sir." Hazel said watching a gleeful look cross Snape's face.
"Fine. Where would you look if I asked for talisman?"
"I don't know, Sir."
"Ah, decided not to open a book?"
I DON'T HAVE MY BOOKS YET! I AM BEING TESTED! WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO HAVE BOOKS? I WAS RAISED IN A NON-MAGICAL COMMUNITY! HELLO! Hazel thought furiously.
"No."
"Let's see how you do on brewing a potion."
The next half hour went like this for Hazel. Snape seemed to want her to fail and gave her a potion that she suspected was for graduates. Finally,
"You are done. I will give the headmaster your scores. Got to the headmaster's office."
With much relief Hazel walked down to Dumbledore's office. After all, she knew where it was now.
"Miss Jones. Me among many of the other professors have all agreed," When Dumbledore said 'agreed' Hazel distinctly saw Snape's eyes narrow. "That you belong in class with the fifth years. Now I know it has been a busy day, but you are to lodge here tonight. I have already informed your guardians and they are expecting you tomorrow morning at 11 o' clock sharp. Professor McGonagall, if you please?" Dumbledore nodded towards Hazel and Professor McGonagall walked forward.
"I am going to show you to your dormitory. You need to have this memorized by the beginning of the term so the other students your age will not suspect otherwise."
Suspect otherwise what?
"Alright Professor, but I think I know the way already." Subconsciously, anyway. Hazel thought.
"Really?" Professor McGonagall said skeptically.
"Yea." Hazel said. "Can I go and if I am going the wrong way you can correct me?" This is just like my dreams. I just have to walk and distract myself so that my subconscious can lead me. This realization over, Hazel continued to walk to the dormitory.
"I suppose."
Together they walked along many passages and Hazel just let her feet do all of the walking and she did all of the talking.
Finally they emerged in front of a portrait of a very fat lady.
"Password?" she said the moment they stopped in front of her.
"Laring- PEEVES!" A pile of what looked like fireworks was hovering over their heads.
"What are those?" Hazel asked, pointing to the 'fireworks' over their heads.
"Those are dungbombs." Professor McGonagall said.
"Dungbombs? Um, if you don't mind I'd rather not be here."
"I do mind. Stay right here. I will be right back."
"But-no!-Why are you leaving me?- I don't know what to do- What happens if he-" Never mind.
With that Professor McGonagall disappeared.
"Sure," Hazel yelled after Professor McGonagall. "Leave me to do the dirty a-and smelly work!"
Professor McGonagall returned with a man that looked like he was a hobo. His hair was a mess, and his leather coat didn't help. Behind the man was a ghost. He looked like he had silvery-white blood all over him.
"Baron, Filch you may want to take a look at Peeves." She gestured to the ceiling where Peeves was pretending to be Hazel. He had already dropped the dungbombs and it reeked.
Peeves was changing his form to look like Hazel and he put on a pink frilly dress with a hoop skirt. Hazel glared at Peeves. She didn't know why, but she made a grabbing motion with her hand and an orb materialized, floating over her hand. When Peeves saw the orb he let out a horrible yell and was sucked into the orb.
Hazel stood there with the orb floating over her hand and Peeves inside of it, fully aware that Professor McGonagall, Filch and the ghost were all staring at her.