Fic Title:
L'etoileFic Summary:
When a young muggle woman is suddenly left alone in the world, there is no other option than for her to be sent overseas. But is she really a muggle? Perhaps special precautions taken to prevent her from discovering the secrets of the wizarding world, in which she lives, are not enough...Post Date:
July 26, 2002Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I benefiting from this fic in any way other than for amusement purposes.Author Notes:
Hi, I'm Anne and I'm relatively new to writing Harry Potter fics. Please read my story and tell me what you think. Any constructive criticism or tips are welcome. Oh, and if any of you happened to read my other story that shared the title L`etoile then you should know that this one has nothing to do with that. It wasn't doing very well so I decided to take it down.***
Her name was Anne L`etoile, but unlike most, the name did not fit her. She was orphaned and did not know of anyone who shared her title. Even had she known any of her relatives, she still would not have fit in with any of them. Like her mother and father, the L'etoile surs were well to do people with little time to trouble with those who they thought were less than themselves. But Anne was very unlike those that were L'etoiles, with her kind heart and down to earth nature.
When the girl was young many fussed that she was a beauty. It was the only way she ever received attention from those that she knew. But as the child aged she seemed to grow plain. She wasn't really plain, just saddened by how the world had treated her during her life. Then when her parents died her appearance seemed to harden all together.
Anne L`etoile was a simple featured girl. Her build was lean and her height was average. She had her mother's large blue eyes. "Like glass," the servants had always said. And she had her father's blond hair. All L'etoiles had blond hair. It was like a curse: blond hair and blue eyes (A/N: no offense to anyone that carries these features. I really carry them too.). Unlike most curses, hers didn't last. With years of time her hair began to darken and she came to favor more her mother and less her father.
Ever since her parents' death, Anne had not spoken a word to anyone. Some people mistook her for a mute, as did the woman who came to meet her at the airport. Minerva McGonagall was how she introduced herself.
"And you must be Anne L`etoile," she said.
Anne nodded in reply, looking up to gaze at the woman before her for the first time. The lady's stern, slightly wrinkled face coupled the two highly polished chasseurs that graced her feet. Both were well kept and conveyed her aspect of business meant. McGonagall wore her grey hair in a tight fitted bun and was dressed an emerald green robe. Her attire looked quite out of place in London's large Luton Airport.
Ms. McGonagall's mouth twitched slightly at the lack of response from the young lady, but she didn't make mention of it aloud. "Well, I expect you had a nice trip, but we'd best be on our way. We've got a long journey ahead of us."
The young woman nodded again, then went to pick up her luggage from the shiny silver floor.
"Follow me, now," McGonagall called over her shoulder.
***
She had never ridden in a carriage before and it appeared that the grey-headed ma'am named McGonagall hadn't either. The strange older woman kept making complaints at every jolt that the small surrey came to. Once Anne even heard her comment with what sounded like "the use of bloody horses.." under her breath.
She had forced herself to stifle a smile. After all, Anne's parents were dead and it wouldn't do for her to not play the expected role of the grief-stricken child.
Ms. McGonagall was indeed a strange character, but Anne liked her. She wasn't flighty like most women that Anne knew. She sat with great posture even as the carriage bounded down the long gravel road. McGonagall was one to admire. That was for sure. And the young woman found it hard to not spill with the million questions that her mind was begging to ask. But she held her tongue, except when necessary.
Anne's first question startled the lady clad in green. "How long is it to Hogwarts." Her voice was pure despite its long dormancy.
"Only a few more hours," McGonagall replied. "You must be exhausted from your trip..." She made a face of disgust in remembrance of the many large bird-like devices that littered the stretch of runway. Air trains. "Why don't you get some sleep?"
Anne nodded silently and leant up against the padded compartment wall. They had been riding all day and sleep seemed quite appealing.
Minerva watched the young woman curl up on the seat, thankfully relieved that she could relax a bit. When soft purrs finally tiptoed from the girl's mouth McGonagall retrieved her wand from the inside pocket of her robes and placed a simple sleeping spell on the girl even though she was already snoozing. It would be much less unnerving if she knew for sure that the girl was in a deep sleep when they reached the castle.
***
The English countryside unfolded itself around the large steely grey castle and its lake. The great giant squid swam lazy circles in the translucent chartreuse waters, but other than that the Hogwarts grounds were strangely vacant of the usual life that graced the magical wizarding world.
It appeared that all had been alerted of the stranger that would soon be arriving on that cloudy day to waltz in their midst. All students were away because of the present summer holiday. All faculty of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were either visiting the nearby Hogsmeades village or staying indoors of the castle to escape the season's heat. All owls rested their talons in the confinements of the cool lofty Owlery. All paintings sat stiff in their frames, most slightly abashed at the news of someone so horribly ordinary actually being welcomed to the grounds that had forever been held dear and kept secret. Anne was a muggle. She had always been raised as 'that.' How could Headmaster Albus Dumbledore allow a 'thing' as ordinary as she into a place as sacred?
