Hello! This is Ichigo, and this is my lovely alter ego, Kaori!

Kaori: Lovely?

This story has been a journey for us. In the original version, we had a significant problem: We had waaaaaay too many original characters. And nobody was reading it. And it was kind of stupid because we were trying to add about ten extra students to Hogwarts in the middle of the sixth year.

Kaori: Lovely?

So we've tried to fix the problem as much as possible. And so we turned most of those OCs into cameo characters that won't appear until much later, and we turned one into the new DADA teacher (because there has to be one anyway). But we still needed one to be a student. So we apologize for needing her, but we'll try to see her as little as possible. Sorry. We do think you'll like her, though. So here goes!

Kaori: What happened to crazy? I'm supposed to be your crazy alter ego, damn it!

We don't own Harry Potter! Here's chapter one!


Harry's dreams carried him over the mountains. They carried him over oceans and deserts, far from any land he knew. What he saw was a vast grassland, open, treeless, stretching on as far as his eyes could see. And he was running. Galloping, four hooves pounding on the dry ground, wild mane blowing like a banner in the wind. He was free. Unlimited. Unstoppable.

Lonely.

He wasn't sure why he ran. He did not know if he was running from something or running to something. And he didn't know if it mattered. He just closed his eyes and let the wind tell him which way to go.


Harry dragged his eyelids open. Sunlight was flooding in through the high window of his bedroom at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Ron was very much awake. He was rushing around the room, half-dressed, tossing his belongings into a trunk.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "Should have packed yesterday..."

"Are we late?" Harry asked blearily.

"Not yet," Ron said, chucking a pair of socks into his open trunk. "But you know Mum. The tiniest hint of trouble and she goes mental. Did I get everything?"

Harry swung himself out of bed and pulled off his pajamas.

"Geez, Harry," Ron said, grimacing. "If you're going to change in front of me, at least have the decency to wear underwear."

"Sorry," Harry said, distantly.

Ron sighed. Harry's mind was elsewhere. Actually, Harry's mind had been elsewhere all summer. He tried to pretend as if nothing were wrong, but Ron knew him well enough to know better.

The loss of his godfather had taken more of a toll on Harry than he liked to pretend. Harry had been reaching out for a parent's love for his entire life, and when he had finally found Sirius, he had slipped out from under his fingers. He cried in his sleep. By daylight he walked almost as if he were still waiting to wake up. Ron hoped that returning to Hogwarts would help to bring Harry back to reality, but he didn't really think it would.

There was a quick knock on the door and Hermione entered, without waiting for a reply.

"Hermione," Ron said.

"Oh, please," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. "As if I haven't seen you two without shirts on before."

"If you'd been about three seconds earlier Harry wouldn't have had any pants on, either," Ron muttered.

Harry pulled a white T-shirt over his head and shook his hair out of his eyes. Hermione smiled at him fondly, then turned her gaze to Ron in a look of exasperated adoration.

"Where's my shirt?" Ron demanded.

Harry grinned. "You've packed it in your trunk, mate," he said.

"Bloody hell," Ron groaned, digging through his trunk.

"You two had better hurry up," Hermione said. "Ron, your Mum's made pancakes."


"I love when Mum's in a good mood," Ron said as he and Harry jogged down the stairs. "It's easier to get away with stuff."

The kitchen was alive with the usual nervous energy of the first day of term. Mrs. Weasley was humming to herself, constantly glancing at the clock while still keeping a watchful eye on a frying pan of bacon and a second of pancakes that flipped themselves as Harry watched. Hermione was talking animatedly with Tonks, whose hair was long, stick straight, and chestnut brown today, and Ginny was feeding bits of bacon to her new tawny owl, her shiny prefect's badge glinting from where it lay on the table. Mr. Weasley was drinking a cup of coffee and reading the Daily Prophet. He looked up as Harry and Ron entered.

"Good morning," he said, with the same feigned cheerfulness he had had all summer. Mrs. Weasley poured him more coffee and he beckoned to the pitcher of milk, which waddled across the table and emptied itself into his cup. "I have to say," he said, returning to the paper, "I'm much more inclined to read the Prophet now that it isn't slandering our friends every day."

Tonks nodded in agreement. "If nothing else good has come out of the past year, at least the newspaper is almost printing the truth."

"Eat up, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, dropping a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of him. "Ginny, dear, are you packed?"

"Yes, Mum," Ginny said, sighing as though she had already answered the question several times.

Hermione rose from the table. "I've just got to find Crookshanks," she said.

Mrs. Weasley looked at the clock again. "Plenty of time," she said, as if to herself. "We have plenty of time. Does anybody want more pancakes?"

"No thank you, Molly," Mr. Weasley said. "I think we're fine."

"Any idea why they asked you for athletic robes?" Tonks asked. She was referring to the school supply list which had arrived a few weeks before. To everyone's utter bewilderment, 'two sets of plain athletic robes (any colour)' had been the third item on the list.

"No clue," Ron said, his mouth full of pancakes. He swallowed. "I mean, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must have asked for them, but I don't know why we'd need them."

"Who's the new teacher this year?" Harry asked, swigging his orange juice. "Does anybody know?"

"Dumbledore mentioned her name," Mrs. Weasley said vaguely. "It sounded Asian, I think. Ginny, dear, are you packed?"

"Yes, Mum," Ginny groaned.

"Professor Shimizu, I believe," Mr. Weasley said, turning the page of the Daily Prophet.

Tonks looked up. "Koryu Shimizu?" she said.

"I think so, yes."

"I've met her. She's incredible."

"That's good to hear." Mr. Weasley returned to his newspaper again. "I wasn't too pleased with last year's teacher, not that we had a choice."

Harry finished his breakfast and turned to Ron. "I'm going to go check to see if I've got everything," he said. Ron nodded, saying he would be up in a few more minutes. As Harry left the kitchen, he heard Mrs. Weasley saying, "Ginny, dear..."


They arrived at Platform 9 3/4 with twenty minutes to spare.

"I wonder if it's an omen," Ron joked. "We're never here early."

"Maybe," Hermione said, smiling at him affectionately, "but is it a good omen or a bad omen?"

"No idea," Ron shrugged, returning the smile. He turned and dragged his trunk off of the cart. Harry stepped forward and helped him to load their luggage onto the train.

Harry and Hedwig were the last on board. Harry put her cage down and stood for a moment to catch his breath. Ginny fidgeted. Ron nervously put an arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Uh, Harry," Hermione said, "we - erm - have to go to the prefect's box. Sorry." She smiled apologetically.

Harry's heart sank. Of course. Ron and Hermione had had to leave him last year, and now Ginny was a prefect, too.

"We're really sorry, Harry," Ginny said.

"No, it's all right," Harry said, crossly.


The benefit to arriving early, Harry decided, was that you got a better choice of seats. He passed several empty compartments before finally settling for one near the end of the train.

He had sat alone for several minutes when the compartment door slid open and Luna Lovegood entered, followed by a tall boy Harry didn't recognise.

"Oh, hello," Luna said dreamily, as if she had just noticed where she was.

"Hello, Harry," the boy said. "Mind if we sit here?"

"Not at all," Harry said, wondering who he was. He was carrying a strange, cactus-like plant under his arm - mimbulus mimbletonia. Harry suddenly realised who it must be.

"Neville?" he said.

Neville grinned. "Didn't recognise me, did you?"

Harry shook his head as Neville took a seat across from him. He had changed a lot over the summer. He seemed to have finally grown into his own body. He was less awkward than he had once been, and he seemed to have bulked up a good deal.

"I didn't recognise him either," Luna said, taking the seat next to Harry.

"I grew six inches," Neville said, excitedly. "I bet I'm almost as tall as Ron now. I only went up two shoe sizes, though." He looked in puzzlement at his feet. Harry glanced down, trying to conceal his smile.

"Looks like your feet fit you now," he said. And it was true. Neville no longer looked like he was wearing clown shoes.

"It kind of hurt, though," Neville said, as the train began to move. "I mean, I'd wake up in the middle of the night with this horrible-"

He stopped himself as the compartment door opened again and a girl walked in. Harry had never seen her before, but he didn't believe for a minute that she was a first year. He wondered if perhaps Neville or Luna knew who she was, but a quick glance at their faces told him that she was a stranger to them, too.

"Erm, hi," she said, nervously. She sounded like she had a cold. "Do you - er - do you mind if I sit here? There's, uh, there's no room anywhere else, and, uh..."

"It's fine," Neville said. "Go ahead." He scooted towards the window to make room for her, blushing a little.

She was fairly short, and had thick, curly brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. Her skin was the colour of coffee with cream, and she had the faintest hint of freckles dusted across her nose. Her hair bounced when she moved her head, and each of her shoulder-length curls had a caramel-coloured light running through it.

"A-are you a first year?" Neville said. "I've never seen you before, have I?"

The girl shook her head. "I'm Lilia DiAngelo," she said. "I..." She paused. "I'm Professor Shimizu's daughter."

"Oh," Neville said, uncomfortably. "I'm Neville Longbottom. So, er... what year are you in?" He looked around at Luna and Harry for help. Lilia didn't seem to want to talk.

"I'll be a sixth year," she said, looking at her shoes. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little nervous..."

"My father says she's an anarchist," Luna said, picking at her lime green nailpolish. "Is it true?" She looked over at Lilia. "Your mother, I mean," she added.

Lilia continued to stare at her shoes. "I've never met her," she finally said.

"Oh," Neville said.

After several more unsuccessful attempts to tear the girl's attention away from her shoes, Neville gave up. Luna pulled out a new issue of The Quibbler while Harry and Neville's conversation turned to athletic robes.

"Different from Quidditch robes, aren't they? I thought they'd be really similar."

"Luckily, I already had a pair, so I knew all about fitting for them. Listen, Harry, I really don't think I'm going to trip down that third floor staircase anymore. See, I've been taking ballet lessons with Ginny and-"

"What?" Harry said.

"Oh, please don't laugh at me," Neville said. "It's put some muscle on me, see?"

Harry had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from bursting out laughing.

Actually, he wasn't really surprised to hear that Neville had taken ballet classes. He was more surprised that he had been living in the same house as Ginny for over a month and he'd had no idea she was taking ballet lessons. He had been more out-of-touch than he'd thought.

"... it's really great for you, Harry, I swear, and you get to meet all kinds of girls and everything and-"

"Neville," Harry said, laughing, "I don't care that you took ballet lessons. It's okay. Just don't let Malfoy find out or he'll be calling you 'Twinkletoes' until the day you die."

Luna smiled and Harry found himself looking into her dreamy blue eyes. He looked away quickly, a little embarrassed.

And then it happened.

There was a sudden screech, then a lurch. With a sick groan of bending metal, the Hogwarts Express slowly began to lean, then ran off of the rails, turning over onto its side.


And there's chapter one! So, what did you think?

Kaori: I think it's hard to get all of the 'let's get on the train and go to school' stuff out of the way.

Review, please! Pleeeeeeeease! Tell us if we are doing a better job than we did last time we tried to write this story. It's a tough one to start, I have to say.

Kaori: I think this is one of the longest chapters we've written, isn't it, Ichi? Review! Thank you!