Yes, yes, I don't own Harry Potter. I wish I did. Also, this is my first HP fic, so be kind! I know Briana may seem a little Mary-Sueish, but she isn't! If you like it, you will learn in the NEXT chapter that she isn't a Mary-Sue at all!!! Don't hurt me...

With all due respect, VFD

Ch. 1

The dreary gray sky spat out a slow, steady rain that lazily drenched the Hogwarts Express. A wind as dreary and sad as the rain pushed sent a chill into the September air, driving the chill through the small crevices in the windows of the steam engine. The weather put most of the students on the train in a likewise mood, even though they were heading into another year of wizarding school. The scene didn't affect some students, however, such as the first years and several third years. Harry Potter was one of the excited third years.

His emerald eyes shining, Harry, along with Hermione, Ron, and Neville laughed and joked as they stuffed their trunks into the shelves above their compartment. Once their laughter died down, a sound from the isles drew their curiosity. It was a song being sung by several students, and Ron could identify his two older brothers, Fred and George, but the other voices, no one recognized.

"We're the knights of the round table," they sang, "we dance when'er we're able; we do routines and chorus scenes and footwork im-pecc-able; we dine well here in Camelot, we eat ham and jam and Spam-a-lot!" Hermione opened the door to see four students dancing gleefully about the isles—Fred, George, one girl Hermione didn't recognize and another older student. The girl was quite pretty, and was being twirled around by Fred as they continued to sing the Monty Python song. After a verse about being opera mad and singing from the diaphragm, Percy the Prefect, Ron's oldest brother, came storming through the door leading to another car.

"FRED! GEORGE!" he roared, and Ron instinctively leapt back into the compartment, leaving Harry, Neville and Hermione gawking out of the door. "Stop that MEANINGLESS racket at ONCE!" he continued, shaking at fist at them. "Oh, come off it, you old hag," George said as the girl was passed to him. Harry realized that music was coming from somewhere, so they were still dancing. He dipped her, then stood and waved his wand to stop the background noise. The girl, who looked to be about Harry's age, was hiding a smirk and tapping her foot to the song, which she was still singing in her head.

Percy glared at the four as they looked at the floor in false shame. "Now, go to your compartments and keep quiet," the Prefect said, and Fred and George began to drag their feet down the hallway, the other boy heading in the opposite direction and the girl sidling into another compartment to get her things. Suddenly, Fred gave a whoop and the twins darted down the isle, singing the song even louder than before. The girl laughed, her perfectly white teeth gleaming, and hummed along with the twins singing.

Hermione caught the girl's eye and asked, "Do you need a place to sit? I think we have room." The girl smiled and said, "Thanks. I hate the first year of school… so much stuff…" She had a very noticeable Irish accent, which explained her blood red hair. Her eyes were almost the color of the hills of Ireland, a perfect, lush green, and when she spotted Harry, they widened only slightly. "Thank you again, uh…?" she said to Hermione as they lifted up her large trunks and squeezed them into the shelf above their heads.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said, "and this is Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter." "Call me Ron," Ron said as the Irish girl shook his hand. "My name is Briana O'Riley, no relation to Baba," she said, shaking Harry's hand, "and you are?" Harry looked confused. "Uh, I'm Harry Potter," he said. "Oh, okay, ah yes! I thought I recognized you. Nice to meet you Harry," Briana said, and she sat down.

Harry watched her for a moment as she pulled out a little black iPod and pulled regular headphones over her red locks. Briana frowned, scrolling through songs, until she found one she liked. Smiling contentedly, she asked, "So, what year are you all in?" "Third," Harry answered, still baffled at the young Irish girl's reaction to his identity. "Oh good!" Briana said, "that's where I am too! This is my first year, though, even though I'm a third year… does that make sense? I suppose. I'm transferring from a school in Ireland."

Hermione watched her curiously. "What are you listening to?" she asked Briana. Glancing at the bushy-haired third-year, Briana answered, "This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race. Fall Out Boy." Harry noticed that Briana's foot was steadily tapping along to the catchy beat. "This ain't a what?" Hermione asked; she had never listened to the band. "A Scene, This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race. It's a new song by Fall Out Boy. Ever heard of them?" Briana responded kindly. The quartet of third years shook their heads. Briana gaped. "You're sure? Ever heard Dance, Dance? Sugar, We're Going Down? Not even Sixteen Candles? My goodness!" she said in shock.

Briana stared at the four students as they gawked back at her in confusion. "Well, Briana, most of us have grown up in the world of wizardry. So we know bands like the Weird Sisters. Well, I do. Harry, on the other hand…" "I've heard of Fall Out Boy, but I've never listened to them," Harry said to Briana. She continued to gawk. "How can you never listen to Fall Out Boy? They're all over the radio! And iTunes, and Sirius, and XM, and—"

Briana was cut off by the shriek of the Hogwarts Express. Hermione peered out the foggy window, saying, "We're not at Hogwarts yet… why are we stopping?" Harry had a looming feeling in his chest. If the train was stopping for no reason, that probably wasn't good. Harry suddenly remembered something he had learned earlier, and Briana had reminded him when she mentioned Sirius satellite radio: Sirius Black was on the run.

Harry gasped and dropped his voice to a whisper. "D'you think," he said to Ron, Hermione and Neville (Briana had no knowledge of Black's escape), "that Black is on the train?" Neville whimpered in fear and Ron looked towards the compartment door in terror. "Black?" Briana asked, dreading an explanation of who this Black character might be. "Sirius Black, the criminal," Harry explained. "He's escaped from Azkaban, the wizard prison." "I know what Azkaban is, I'm not stupid. I'm just more informed about other people beyond the wizarding race than you lot," Briana snapped.

Harry didn't respond. The lights on the whole train suddenly flickered, sputtering out like candles. The engine screeched to a halt, and shadows seemed to pass around the cars. Briana stood and poked her head out of the door, asking other students if they knew what was happening. Suddenly she jerked her head back in and slammed the door shut, locking it and performing several lock curses on it. She then cowered in the corner staring in pure horror at the definite shadowy figure passing by the door. "Briana, w-what's—" Harry started, but the Irish girl shushed him, pointed with a trembling finger to the door.

The lock clicked open.