"Harry!" Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley called at the same time. Harry had been away, searching for and destroying horcruxes over the summer break, and though they had been with him most of the time, he had made them go home for the last two weeks. Now, on the first of September, they were about to go to Hogwarts for their last year. All three laughed a little as they spotted each other, and met near the middle of the train.

Always the sensible one, Hermione said, "Let's board at the front, and work our way back to look for an empty compartment. C'mon, grab your trunks."

The three hurried on board, to get an empty compartment before they all filled up. At the very back of the train, the last three compartments were totally noiseless. Harry frowned as his scar twinged slightly, but didn't hurt, it was a strange sensation, almost like lukewarm water trickling down the back of his neck. Hermione and Ron shivered slightly, and Ron began to turn back, "Guys, let's see if there's another compartment up front, I'm don't think we should stay back here."

Hermione opened her mouth to agree, but the look on Harry's face stopped her. Harry opened the door to the last compartment, and and revealed a girl of sixteen. The girl nodded a greeting, without turning her head from a parchment spread across her lap. Ron stared openly, and Hermione opened her mouth in a n 'o' of surprise. Harry froze in the door, and nothing moved but the girl, who tapped her fingers on the parchment she was reading.

Upon reaching the conclusion of the text a few minutes later, the girl rolled up the scroll, and stood, handing it to Hermione as she moved past, "That is the account of Empress Wayla Strounstgi, I think you'll find it good material. Please, take the compartment, I can find another." The chilling, odd sensation vanished as the girl disappeared into the bathroom.

Harry walked into the compartment and inspected it, paranoid after his summer of horcrux hunting. Ron sat dumbly, the sensation had taken him into a memory of when he was very little, and he had yet to return to the world. Hermione unrolled the scroll, and scanned the 3,000 foot parchment with a careful eye. She was the first to break the silence. "This is the original, untranslated scroll from the library at Alexandria. That girl just handed it to me, not to mention, was reading it with obvious fluency. What I'm holding in my hands this very moment is completely and utterly beyond priceless. Merlin himself couldn't lay a finger on this scroll if he wanted to. And I'm actually holding it."

Done inspecting, Harry sat down opposite Ron, who seemed to snap out of his trance, and Hermione sat next to Ron. "I-I just remembered a time when I saw that girl before!" Ron exclaimed. "I was really little, and everyone was outside really late, dancing in the streets. She was standing on top of a roof, holding a baby boy, my age, murmuring weird words over him. Then, she disappeared into a mirror, and everything just went dark. Harry, do you know who she is?"

The other boy shook his head, "No, but my scar tingles, it feels like warmish water is running down my neck, and I began to see my parents death again, but she left."

The trio all sank into their own thoughts. Hermione fingered the scroll in her hands, itching to begin the slow process of translations, but afraid to damage the artifact, clearly saved from time through spells. Ron kept trying to figure out why all the people were dancing in the streets, but came to nothing each time. Harry was trying to understand the feeling his scar gave him, and why he would see his parents death, yet he was still just as confused as before.

Rolling wheels sounded from down the hall, and a compartment door slid open, letting the sound of laughter and talking drift down the hall. A moment later, the lunch witch stuck her head in. "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

None of the Gryffindors had noticed the time, since they were so engrossed in their thoughts. Harry and Hermione bought about a third of the cart all together, and they all dove into the pile of sweets to try and forget about the girl. Hermione carefully packed away the scroll before touching the messy chocolates, and Ron and Harry each tried to ignore and shove to the back of their minds the feeling the girl had brought out in them. For the remainder of the trip, they talked about meaningless subjects, and wondered at what Voldemort would try that year.

As the train pulled into the station, and the familiar noise of returning to school reached the trio, it was easier to forget the girl, until she appeared at the door of their carriage, at least. "Would it be alright if I sat with you three? My only other choice is Draco Malfoy's lot, or on the back of a thestral. I wouldn't mind the latter, but these thestrals are harnessed, and I'd have to call one that wasn't tied to a carriage."

Though a little unwillingly, the three took her into the carriage. The anticipated odd feeling was so faint, that only Harry noticed, and he only felt it for a fraction of a second. Hermione introduced them, "I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. You are?"

The girl nodded to Hermione, but not in either boy's direction. "Lennae Faellae, call me what you like, as long as it isn't my full name. Too long and hard to pronounce. Forgive me if I don't look directly at you when you talk to me or vice versa, I had a bit of an accident with my eyes some years ago. They aren't the best things to see with. Again I'm sorry, but if you boys could introduce yourselves separately, it's easier to know who's who."

Both Harry and Ron obliged, and their uneasiness around Lennae began to erase itself on the way up to the castle. Lennae eventually brought the conversation around to the train ride. "Hermione, eager to begin on that scroll? I have a translation, entirely literally, without proper English grammar and such if you'd like to read it before you translate it. I didn't give it to you upfront because I know translating is half the fun."

Delighted, Hermione grinned, "Len, you're wonderful. I'd love to have the translation, but just to compare notes. You're fluent, I take it?"

Len responded, "In which language? I know several dozens, hundreds, really. One thousand nine hundred forty two, to be specific." When greeted with silence, Len tapped her fingers loudly on the window pane very rapidly, and frowned, "Why is that so shocking? My parents were multi-lingual, and taught me at least twenty before they died when I was five, and the tutors that became my guardians after continued their teaching. It is much easier to learn when yo are young, and more impressionable, than to begin learning at a much older age. Also, the more languages you know, the easier it is to learn more."

Puzzled, Hermione asked, "But aren't there 2,000 official languages? That would mean that there aren't many left for you to learn before you can talk to pretty much anybody that speaks. How have you learned so many? Professor Dumbledore is nearing 150, and he only speaks maybe two to four dozen languages. Nicholas Flamel was over 600, and he didn't know even nearly a 1000. He was an-"

"Alchemist, one of the few to discover the true Philosopher's stone. Well, what alchemists think is the true stone. Yes, I know. Though, I learned the base fifty languages and English by six, and once you know those, the rest are easy. I can speak every official language, and several not on the list at least well enough to navigate my way. I'm simply fluent in 1,942. Now, we're at Hogwarts, or else something fell in front of the carriage because we've stopped." Len finished off, and left the carriage abruptly.

Weaving through the crowd, Len was up and in the school before anyone else, and she spoke quickly with Professor McGonagal before going into the Great Hall, and signaling Dumbledore from the doorway. The old man rose and quickly walked over. "Ah, Miss. Faellae, I trust your journey was not too difficult with your handicap? Would you like a lemon drop?"

Len bowed from the waist to Dumbledore, and replied, "No, thank you, I don't eat sweets. My trip here would have been easier had I been allowed to fly here, but as it was, I was not hindered due to my lack of eyesight. I'm sure you know of my ability to maneuver around that."

Without the usual twinkle residing in his eyes, Dumbledore sighed, "A pity you don't eats sweets. They are one of my favorite things, ah well, it cannot be helped. If you can forgive my rudeness, I would like to know, how can you fly without being able to see? I have no knowledge of how to get around blindness due to your particular cause, however."

With a shrug, Len brushed it off, "As it were, I have a way around the accident that has absolutely nothing to do with magic, and I can see just fine if I have to, I just don't use my eyes to do so. For instance, if you would stand behind me, I can tell you the exact contents and point they reside at in the room."