Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own this story, my OC, and the fact that I was bored enough to write this.
I hope you like it XD


"Are you paying attention, Kelly?" Amycus Carrow sneered, pointing his wand lazily in the direction of the girl sitting beside the classroom window.

The girl, no older than fifteen or perhaps sixteen, blinked as though coming out of a daze and lifted her head off the hand it had been propped on. For a moment, her gold-flecked hazel eyes just stared at the aging man, their owner silent. After a second, Kristen Kelly said, "Of course, sir." Her voice was mocking and held a layer of undeniable boredom.

"I don't think you were, mudblood." The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor growled, his lips twisting cruelly. "What were we reviewing?"

"Mmm." Kris's eyelids drooped wearily, the dark bags under her eyes more prominent in the streaming sunlight when she leaned back casually in her seat. "I can only imagine that you were emphasizing your complete lack of skill and knowledge to the class once again." Out of the corner of her eyes, Kris saw Ginny Weasley shoot her an exasperated look, clearly disapproving of the Ravenclaw's actions.

"What did you say, filthy mudblood?" Amycus hissed, his eyes widening alarmingly and his face acquiring a purple tint. "Say that again. I dare you."

Kris shrugged nonchalantly as if to say "You dare me? All right" and subconsciously brushed her inky-black locks behind her ears as she appraised her professor with an insouciant demeanor. "I said that I think your skill is laughable and that it baffles me as to how you, of all people, was made a Hogwarts teacher. A banshee with a sore throat would have been a better choice. Of course, we already have a banshee, seeing as Alecto was also hired…"

"Get up, you mudblood bitch." Amycus snarled, stalking over to the teenager to roughly grab the girl by her robes and haul her out of her seat. She was harshly shoved to the front of the classroom and, upon losing her balance, stumbled and fell, her palms scraping against the stone floor. "We'll review the cruciatus curse once more so you can learn your place, you piece of trash." Amycus waved his wand, muttering garbled words under his breath. Immediately, Kris was flung against the wall, her neck snapping back from the force of the collision so that her head cracked soundly against the stones.

Kris weakly lifted her head to blow her choppy bangs out of her face. An amused smile curled her lips that only managed to provoke Amycus further. It had become a game of Kris's, poking at the horrible Carrows to see how quickly they exploded. It amazed Kris that she had not yet been killed from one of their rages although she had suffered under bother the Imperius and Cruciatus curses more times than she could count. Ginny often accused Kris of being masochistic but the Ravenclaw explained that she simply wanted to prove that she would not bow her head to Voldemort or his accomplices—or, more like, his slaves.

"You insolent child!" Amycus growled, strutting forward, his face contorted with anger. "If I had permission to, I would slaughter each and every one of you mudbloods left in this school but I have yet to receive the orders to do so." He was close then, his booted feet right beside Kris's limp legs. The professor kicked her viciously and, gasping, the girl collapsed, holding her aching abdomen. "But, I assure you, the order will come. Until then, your corrupt blood will continue to darken these halls."

A short, mad, barking laugh escaped Kris before she could even register it bubbling from her chest. "'Darken the halls'? The moment you stepped onto the grounds, I couldn't get my candle to hold a flame. And, since you're far too dimwitted to get the crappy jest, I'll explain: the flame, as a source of light—"

"Crucio." Amycus roared, thrusting his wand angrily at Kris.

Abruptly, Kris stopped talking and clamped her mouth shut. The first few times she had been hit by the cruciatus curse, she had screamed so that her voice echoed throughout the entire castle and continued to shriek until her voice went hoarse. Since then, she had learned to keep form making too many noises—the girl refused to give the sadistic man the satisfaction. Still. Kris writhed in agony, her body contorting as she thrashed wildly against the cold ground. Blinding pain seared its way throughout her body and flushed out any other sense. She hardly noticed when Amycus slammed his fist into her nose, breaking the bone and giving her labored breaths a harsh, grating edge. In a desperate attempt to knock herself unconscious, Kris ferociously banged her head into the wall, her mouth agape in soundless screams of excruciating torment.

Finally, after what seemed like ages to the girl, Amycus released her from the curse only to snicker at her twitching form. A second later, Amycus dragged her still convulsing body to her feet. "If you're so confident that you're more skilled then I am, why don't we duel, mudblod?"

Glassy eyed, Kris reached for her wand only to have it torn from her trembling grasp.

"Oh nooo, dear girl, if I'm so weak, you won't need a wand." Chuckling maliciously, Amycus tossed her ebony wand to the side. Dumbly, Kris stared after it as it clattered to floor only to stop after hitting the side of a student's desk. "Now, prepare yourself." He ordered, spinning on the heels of his feet to stomp across the room. "The rest of you, watch closely to see how a real wizard deals with a defenseless, disgusting muggle—because that's what this monstrosity is, students—nothing more than a filthy muggle."

Lurching forward, Kris balanced herself by leaning against the professor's desk. Her vision swam—with tears or blood, she could not tell in her rattled state of mind. Vaguely, she recognized Ginny's concerned and horrified expression but it was gone as soon as Kris noticed it because the girl was suddenly thrown off her feet, her head bashing yet again into the unforgiving stone wall.

Mistily, Kris heard Amycus cackling and announcing that Kris was no more than a defenseless, worthless muggle. Stubbornly refusing to let the encroaching darkness overtake her, Kris lifted her eyes to see her professor readying another spell to be sent her way. Her heart was hammering beneath her ribcage as she recognized the spell as a life-threatening one. "Sectumsempra!" he roared, spinning his wand as he took a step toward her limp body.

Desperately, Kris called to all her knowledge of magic and attempted to croak out a defensive spell but no words made it past her lips. If she had been anyone else, Kristen Kelly might have given up. As it was, she narrowed her eyes, concentrating. Only a few times had she managaed to cast a spell without a wand or a voice and all attempts had been under much better conditions. Luckily, Kris saw the shimmering form of her mute protego spell take form before her. Sadly, her spell was incredibly weak.

Amycus's curse smashed into Kris's shield, instantly shattering the fragile magic shield to pieces. That left Kris completely vulnerable. Her body jerked as twin gashes appeared on her stomach, quickly and irreparably staining her blouse a sickly crimson. Pain. It hurt. Gasping for breath, Kris slid, her body crumbling and leaving a smear of blood on the wall in her wake. Vaguely, Kris heard her classmates shouting, Ginny's voice rising above the rest before her terrified, ashen face appeared in her darkening sight. She was yelling something that only just reached Kris's ears. "—Madam Pomfry! And Professor McGonagall! Go!" she tore off her cloak and used it in a futile attempt to stem the flow of blood.

Sputtering, Kris tried to speak—not entirely certain what she wanted to say. Blood filled her mouth with a coppery tang and the warm, thick liquid spilled down her chin. As much as she struggled to hold onto her consciousness, her vision wavered yet again and suddenly everything was black.

So this is it, she mused as she felt herself drown in an abysmal darkness. This is how I die… dammit! And after he made me promise to stay safe…


The dream she had was not unusual unless she counted the fact that she thought that she should be stuck in oblivion, in heaven or hell, or something of the sort instead of dreaming of all things. Perhaps it was the afterlife? Somehow, Kris sincerely doubted it.

It started out with Kris in her first year at Hogwarts. Kris remembered it well since it was the first time she met him. Despite being in different houses, Ginny Weasley and Kris had struck up a quick friendship though Kris hardly knew why. Even she knew that she was strange—not to mention also a muggleborn. Still, Kris became fast friends with the bright-haired Gryffindor and, because of this companionship, met him—Harry Potter.

At first, Kris had no inkling as to who the shaggy-haired boy was. Ginny had invited Kris to study in the library with her where they consequently ran into Ginny's brother, Ron. The gangly twelve-year-old immediately called his sister over to his group and Ginny dragged the reluctant Kris with her.

Introductions were necessary for Kris's sake and the girl was overjoyed to find that the girl with them was also a muggleborn. Ravenclaw did not often accept wizards and witches without magical ancestry—just like Slytherin but to less of an extreme—and Kris had found herself alone in her year in Ravenclaw.

"This is Hermione," Ron introduces, motioning to the bushy-haired girl beside him. The girl smiled and nodded a friendly hello. Ginny was dumbstruck, left speechless with her eyes glued to the dark haired boy with the circular glasses and gentle smile. Kris surmised that her new friend had something of a crush on the boy that her brother was friends with. "And this is Harry." Ron continued, jabbing his hands excitedly to the boy at his right. "The Harry Potter."

Kris blinked, keeping her features characteristically blank and full of boredom. She furtively eyes the boy—Harry—curiously. Should she recognize him? Was he famous or something? All four of the students were watching her expectantly but she had no idea what they thought she would do. "Mmm. Okay." She finally said with a subtle wobble of her head. "I'm Kristen. Kristen Kelly. But I prefer to be called 'Kris.'"

Hermione's eyes widened fractionally, Ron practically gaped, and Harry's smile widened, his expression tinged with relief. Kristen had no idea why her lack of response affected them so. Ginny giggled softly, twirling a few strands of vibrant orange hair around her pale finger. "Kris is a muggleborn." The first year Gryffindor said in explanation. "So she has no idea who you are, Harry." Ginny's eyes were downcast as she spoke to the boy, her cheeks acquiring a shade similar to her hair.

"Muggleborn?" Hermione asked, eyebrows rising. Here it comes, Kris thought bitterly. Only, Kris was surprised when the continued with, "I'm a muggleborn as well!" she smiled cheekily and held her hand out. Taken aback, Kris was slow to process Hermione's proffered hand but the second year did not falter when she realized what the older girl wanted. Kris nearly jumped and took her hand, jittery. They shook, Hermione's eyes shining pleasantly.

"Lucky you found someone who doesn't know you already, eh, Harry?" Rom grinned humorously, nudging Harry in the ribs.

"Should I know you?" Kris queried, eyeing Harry inquisitively. He was smiling like he was happy that she did not immediately recognize him.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Ron interrupted excitedly. "He's the one who defeated You-Know-Who! Twice!"

Scratching the nape of her neck in confusion, Kris shook her head. "Sorry, who?"

"Voldemort." Harry informed Kris without hesitation. Kris silently noted how Hermione, Ron, and Ginny winced at the name. "But it's not impressive; I was just lucky is all. I would be dead if it wasn't for my friends."

Kris smiled faintly. "You're very modest for a supposed celebrity-hero, then." She commented airily—like her mind was elsewhere. Kris tended to speak in a way that made people believe they did not have her full attention. Usually, it annoyed the people she conversed with and Kris was mentally pleased when none of the students before her pointed it out or mocked her.

Yes… Kris remembered their first meeting vividly. She mused on how accepted she had felt when immersed in conversation with the trio and Ginny. Kris had never felt so content before…

Slowly, that memory faded out and was replaced with a more recent one—her fifth year and the time when her life changed forever…

They were in Hogsmeade, Harry and Kris. She had been perplexed at first, wondering why exactly Hermione, Ron, and Ginny had skeeved on their plans for the Hogsmeade weekend. When Ginny had approached her to explain that she could not make it, the redhead had given Kris a knowing look before giggling merrily and rushing away before the Ravenclaw had a chance to grab her and demand answers.

To Kris's surprise, Harry—who seemed distracted and twitchy—had led her to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop instead of the Three Broomsticks, their group's usual haunt. Kris had hardly expected it because Madam Puddifoot's gaudy appearance made Harry uncomfortable because it reminded him of a certain cat-loving, ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—the sadistic and freakishly chipper, Dolores Umbridge. Once they sat down together at one of the frilly tables, Kris shot a disgusted look over to a couple who were shamelessly snogging.

When Harry ordered a butterbeer, Kris's attention returned to her friend and she ordered the same thing absently as she examined Harry speculatively, wondering what exactly had him so nervous. His leg vibrated apprehensively and his green eyes flashed to her before quickly zooming away. "So…" Kris cleared her throat and propped her head upon her palm, eyes half-lidded in her general insouciant facial expression. "What's up?" yawning, the Ravenclaw covered her mouth with her hand and brushed a few crumbs off the table left from the previous occupants. "Something's obviously bothering you." Was it her imagination or did Harry's cheeks actually grow pinkish?

"No…" He denied, fidgeting in his seat.

"Don't lie; it doesn't suit you." Kris chastised inattentively. "I've known you long enough to know when something's on your mind—other than the usual like fighting for survival and dealing with Death Eaters, Voldemort, Snape, Malfoy, prophecies that spell doom, giant snakes and spiders, unicorns and happily dancing gnomes—"

"You're so weird, you know that?" Harry interrupted, , a slightly amused smile curing his lips. "But yeah, I guess something's on my mind."

"Hmm. Girl trouble?" Kris guessed.

Harry's head jerked up and his voice rose a pitch as he spoke. "What? How-how'd you guess?"

Kris shrugged, deadpan. "You looked kinda like this last year when Cho was nagging you." Sighing, the girl stretched, leaning back in her seat. "Look, I don't know if I'm the best person you can talk to about this but, if you really want to, I'll listen but I can't promise that I'll be any help."

Harry's eyes lit up—the joyous expression completely contradicting how he abruptly averted his gaze and coughed. "Well, that's what I want, yeah."

"All right. I'm all ears." Turned out, Kris could have been deaf and Harry still would have managed to get his message across. The boy-who-lived leaned over, lightly clutched Kris's shoulders, and softly pressed his lips against hers.

"Kris…" he murmured, pulling away from the bewildered and flustered Kristen. "Kris. Kris. Kris!"


"Kris!"

Kris shot up and groaned, falling back down onto the comfortable hospital wing bed. Her stomach hurt like hell and she had been having such a nice dream. Who had ruined it?

"Merlin! Kris, I've been calling your name forever and you just squirmed." Ginny Weasley said, a conflicting mixture of annoyance, relief, and concern coloring her words. "How are you feeling?"

"Like butterflies and rainbows just got together to start a coordinated dance routine, scattering smiles, puppies, and candy around for every—"

"She's fine." That came from Neville Longbottom, another Gryffindor and one of Kris's closest friends—especially since Harry left with Ron and Hermione. "Either that or she's incredibly confused."

"Confused?" The Ravenclaw repeated, wincing as she shifted positions. "I believe that is too kind of a description of my current situation. I lost my sanity ages ago. You guys might as well refer to me as 'that crazy girl.'"

"Huh? We already do—behind your back, of course." Ginny grinned.

"Of course." Kris muttered, running her trembling fingers through her coal-black hair. She felt weary to the bone—and she was not used to that. Kris was far too lazy of a person to be used to physical exhaustion.

"How are you really feeling?" Luna asked flippantly, eyes vacant like she was lost. Luna lovegood was the only Ravenclaw in Kris's year that she along with—even if Kris could not stand her presence for more than a few hours. "The nargles were very worried, you see. They're quite fond of you, Kris, it seems."

"I feel… tired and my stomach really hurts." Kris admitted grudgingly after a moment of indecision. She hated revealing a weakness of any sort and had always worked hard to prove herself (unless it came to school work, physical activity, befriending someone… and the list goes on and on…). It was detestable, in Kris's mind, to be lying there on a hospital bed—humiliating even.

"You were hit by the sectumsempra curse." Neville informed the pale girl.

"I remember." Kris grimaced and closed her eyes, languidly throwing her forearm over her face to block out all light. "What happened after?"

"Luna and I got Madam Pomfry and Professor McGonagall. Amycus nearly had a fit." She smiled weakly. "Apparently, he's not supposed to injure a student so severely—even muggleborns." Her voice had a bitter edge. "He's trying to find out who cast the protego—even though it was ineffective. He's insanely angry that someone tried to protect you."

"We already established that it wasn't one of us." Neville added quickly. "So who…?"

Luna dreamily stared at the ceiling. "I tried to convince them that the wrackspurts did it but they won't believe me. They hate Amycus, you know."

"Oh. Well, it was no one. I mean, it was me. It was pretty badly conjured though, seeing as I was hardly conscious when I cast it."

"You?" Ginny's asked, disbelieving. Her eyebrows rose. "But—I never knew you were so skilled! You can do wandless, nonverbal spells?"

"Sometimes." Kris rolled her shoulders and instantly regretted it. Lightning pain shot throughout her body and Kris was glad that her eyes were covered. "I was surprised it worked, actually, although it didn't exactly help, did it?"

"Still, that's amazing." Ginny insisted.

"Is it? Hm. I've seen you do nonverbal spells before and Hermione could do them way before I could." Kris pointed out in a quiet, weak voice.

"Yes. That's true." Ginny conceded.

"It just goes to show those muggle-hating lunatics that muggleborns can be a whole lot better than purebloods at magic." Neville added, clearly thinking about how inadequate he considered himself.

The hospital wing door swung open abruptly and Kris lifted her arm to see Professor McGonagall along with the hated headmaster, Severus Snape, sweep in, cloaks billowing dramatically. Upon seeing the greasy-haired wizard, all four students stiffened—even Luna seemed afraid. Kris could not stand looking at this particular man—especially not after he killed Dumbledore in cold blood. Harry had been devastated, near inconsolable, and Kris absolutely hated seeing him so distraught. Kris was glaring hatefully at the old Potions master until he glimpsed McGonagall's face and curiously observed the Professor's pale, distressed features. The aging woman had an air about her that spelled something horrible and they walked straight for Kris's bed.

"You three," McGonagall looked quickly between Neville, Luna, and Ginny. "I am going to have to ask you to leave."

Kris swallowed, gold-flecked hazel eyes appraising the two adults. She exchanged furtive looks with her friends before they said their goodbyes and left, leaving the injured Ravenclaw with McGonagall and Snape. Once the door shut behind her friends, Kris nodded wearily to McGonagall—stubbornly refusing to acknowledge Snape's dark presence.

"How are you feeling, Kelly?" McGonagall asked, her usually stern tone of voice softened with worry.

"Better than I expected." Kris answered calmly, eyes flicking from the Transfiguration professor to Snape for an instant. The Ravenclaw knew that something bad was about to be said but she also knew that she not have to hurry it along. They would get to whatever needed to be discussed and all Kristen had to do was patiently wait.

"Poppy has informed ,e that you are going to end up scarred, Kelly. "McGonagall went on. "Two lacerations on your stomach, critically wounding you. Poppy did everything she could but that dreadful spell is dark and not easily healed." McGonagall shot Snape, the man who invented said spell, a withering glare before plowing on. "Amycus has taken it too far this time."

"Far enough to attract the Dark Lord's attention." Snape added in a bored tone. McGonagall paled even more is that was possible and then it struck Kris like a ton of bricks.

"He's here?" She demanded, her voice cracking. How was it possible? Why would Voldemort take it upon himself to penalize one of his own Death Eaters for hurting a filthy mudblood? Or, more likely, for not finishing the job properly. Still, why would Voldemort come to Hogwarts when he already had more important things to do?

"Yes." Snape answered shortly.

"My dear, I'm afraid that he has requested your presence." McGonagall told Kris unhappily.

Kris froze. The Dark Lord wanted to meet her? Torture he, more like. He probably heard that she was close to Harry and wanted to get information out of her. Well that would not happen. No matter what Voldemort decided to put her through, Kris would divulge nothing. She was a very good Occulems (although, horrendous at legilimency) and could defend even against the strongest invasion of her mind.

"It is best not to keep M'Lord waiting." Snape suggested apathetically, his dark eyes holding no emotion. "He is awaiting your presence in the dungeons. Come, I will lead you." He motioned for Kris and turned.

Grimacing, Kris hauled herself to her feet with great difficulty, aided by the sympathetic McGonagall.

"My dear, are you certain you can stand?" the Transfiguration teacher asked when Kris shrugged off the woman's helping hands.

"I'm… fine." Kris breathed stubbornly through gritted teeth. She was lying and it was obvious to both Kris and her Professor. Kris's knees shook with the strain of holding her own weight. "Everything is just… dandy." She continued, concentrating on taking an experimental step. Luckily, Kris did not find herself sprawled on the floor and even managed to begin a cautious, albeit incredibly slow, walk using the wall for support. "Yup." She glanced at Minerva McGonagall who was walking comfortingly close. "Just like unicorns and sunshine and tutu wearing dancing trolls."

"Where on earth do you come up with these ridiculous statements?" McGonagall sighed. "You'll have to keep your mouth shut when you talk to You-Know-Who. Honestly, Kelly, it's like you're looking for trouble."

"I'll probably be dead very soon so it hardly matters." Kris stated emotionlessly.

McGonagall gasped and grabbed the dizzy girl's arm. "Do not say that."

"Why? Obviously, he wants information. Seeing as there's no way I'm going to tell him anything, he'll kill me. After all, I'm just a mudblood, right?"

"Kelly… if this is the last time we speak," McGonagall was quiet and Kris knew that the elderly professor could see acceptance written across her features, wearily painting her face with resignation. "I must commend you for being one of my brightest students I have ever had the pleasure of teaching. Lazy, unorthodox, and frustrating at times, yes, but bright not less. You have a brilliant mind and admirable loyalty to your friends. I dare say you would have made a wonderful Gryffindor. Kris, I say this because, if anything, you have proven to me and many others that being muggleborn is not as terrible as some would like to say."

"I practically am a Gryffindor." Kris mused, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. McGonagall clearly thought that Kris would not come out of this meeting alive and Kris agreed. She thought of her friends and wished that she could have given them all a more adequate goodbye. "Considering all my friends other than Luna are in Gryffindor."

"I just wish there was a way to protect all my precious students." McGonagall said, melancholy.

"Don't worry about me." Kris said. When they reached the dungeons, lagging far behind Snape, she visibly hesitated. "If…" raw emotion was displayed on Kris's usually impassive face. "If I don't come back, can you tell… tell Harry that I'm sorry for breaking my promise?"

McGonagall's eyes softened considerably and she patted the girl's shoulder. "Of course."

The two of them reached Snape moments later and the greasy-haired headmaster motioned for Kris to enter the room he stood by.

Sighing, Kris dug her fingers into the pockets of her robes, wishing drearily that Amycus had not taken her wand. Taking a deep breath, Kris glanced over her shoulder at McGonagall who had made no move to follow, and smiled weakly before delving into what had to be certain death.


A/N: well, glad I got that over with. Took me forever... my poor fingers are worn to the bone...
anyways, thanks for reading! This is an idea that has been nagging at me for a long time and I only just decided to write it down.
Please review to give me tips, seeing as this is my first story! I could use some constructive criticism. I would also LOVE feedback on whether or not this story is even worth continuing considering I'm a huge procrastinator and will probably forget all about this story if no one likes it.
I will love you forever and even give you an imaginary cookie if you review! XD