Chapter One
Of a Fine Spring Morn
A dusty sort of man with scars dragged himself off the ground with great effort and stood to stare at the span of trees that surrounded him. In a rare moment of vulgarity he swore and scratched his aching head. He was stark naked with numerous cuts and bruises along the joints of his body, as if each had been broken then hastily snapped back into place. He stared around him for a moment and turned in circles slowly on the spot. His mousy brown hair-which was flecked with grey-seemed like it wanted to be a tree. It was filled with twigs and leaves, and he was covered in smears of dirt and mud. The mousy brown haired man sighed and started to limp off in a general direction. When he reached a small clearing with bracken he winced when his bare foot collided with a rock. Looking down he was relieved to see his own battered trunk.
R. J. Lupin
With great effort he kneeled to open his trunk and hastily make into one of his battered suits and worn cloaks. He rummaged through until he found his wand and watch and when he saw the time he swore again and closed his trunk with a vicious snap. He was late. The train was leaving in five minutes, as it promptly did, and he couldn't afford to be late. Taking the handle of his trunk and taking a few deep breaths of air, the man closed his eyes and concentrated. His appearance twisted and contorted with a sickening amount of speed and disappeared into a tiny speck on the spot. Leaving nothing but a thundering crack that resounded in the forest, startling a few birds that flew off in a frenzy. He appeared again on a busy Muggle street outside The Leaky Cauldron hundreds of miles away and entered hastily. He couldn't be late for the only job he'd had in months.
The young woman rode the Hogwarts express alone and chose to sit in the very last compartment for her journey. She stared at the passing foliage as the train sped past forest and plain alike. Her journey had started at midnight when the moon was a waning gibbous in the deep sapphire sky. A pimply sort of young man named Stan Shunpike had carried her trunk from the Three Broomsticks to the Knight Bus and then through the train station again. He had insisted and patted his worn jacket pocket saying which contained a letter.
"Professor Dumbledore says ya were to be escorted. No 'us in arguin' wit' a grea' wizard like that."
The witch had thanked Stan several times and gave him 5 galleons for his troubles he flushed all the way to his large ears and mumbled his thanks shyly before setting off through the brick barrier.
The sky was becoming slightly lighted as the sun rose but it would still be many hours before the world would bath in the golden glow of spring sunlight. The young witch wrapped her wool cloak around her and busied herself by enchanting the things she saw around her. The pillow did cartwheels across the opposite seat and the lights flickered as if they were candles.
"Anything off the trolly, dear?" said a smiling older woman.
The young witch bought chocolate and stowed it away in a pocket of her dress. The rest of her journey was undisturbed and she succumbed to sleep as the train rocked her into her dreams.
"We've arrived at Hogsmeade station, dear. I've been instructed by Headmaster Dumbledore to take you to the Three Broomsticks," the same trolly woman was shaking the young woman's shoulder smiling at her with motherly warmth.
The Three Broomsticks was surprisingly busy for such an early hour and the trolly woman gave the young witch a hug and a kiss as she passed her off to Madam Rosmerta, pretty and curvy witch with sparkly turquoise heels. She gave the woman a butterbeer and winked at her as she went about her work.
"Don't even try of paying, love. Dumbledore told me to give you everything complementary." Rosmerta said smiling as she polished a glass mug. The young witch smiled appreciatively and put her small money purse back into her pocket. It was very empty. A few of the men at the bar tried to give her a hard time but Rosmerta straightened them out much to the young witch's appreciation. "They talk nasty, but they don't mean harm. Too much Fire Whiskey," she winked.
"Is there a Miss Aurelia Warrington here?"
The young witch at the bar turned in her seat to see a squaty witch with grey hair and brown eyes peering at her.
"I'm Miss Warrington, ma'am."
"Oh, Merlin! How darling she is! Calling me "ma'am"!" said the plump woman who hugged Aurelia so tightly that she lost her breath. The woman wore pale robes and smelled greatly of fresh earth.
"Oh, pardon me dear. I've just come out of the garden! I'm Professor Pomona Sprout, I teach Herbology at the school," Pomona Sprout gave a firm hand shake to Aurelia and thanked Rosmerta for watching out for the young witch.
Professor Sprout flicked her wand and levitated Aurelia's trunk to follow them as they made their way along a rough mud track where a stagecoach waited without a horse.
"Are you not coming Professor?" Aurelia asked as Professor Sprout as the woman closed the stagecoach door.
"Oh no dear I have some business in town, more mandrakes for the second years. Don't worry you'll be perfectly fine." Pomona Sprout patted the young woman's hand and the stagecoach was off along the muddy road, bumping and swaying in procession. The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw.
As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent iron wrought gates, flanked by stone columns topped with winged boars. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle and Aurelia leaned out the window to watch the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt and cautiously Aurelia stepped out into the chilly air, observing the mass of stone and turret before her. She pulled her trunk out with a small clunk and lifted it with her right hand.
A sharp looking woman with a tight bun and square spectacles hurried out of the great wooden doors of Hogwarts in a flurry of black robes and straight posture.
"My apologies Miss Warrington I lost track of time. You are rather early."
"I'm sorry I couldn't hold off the train longer," Aurelia smiled.
"I am Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House. Welcome to Hogwarts, I hope you find every comfort here."
But the last lines were recited with a sort of strictness that alerted Aurelia that perhaps Professor McGonagall had attempted to be warm but just couldn't muster it past the freezing spring air.
"Why on earth are you carrying your trunk?" Professor McGonagall said with such immediate sharpness that Aurelia dropped her trunk to the ground and she felt as if she was ebing scolded for spilling milk. "It honestly isn't very heavy."
Professor McGonagalls eyebrow shot up at an incredibly sharp angle and with a sharp flick of her wand Aurelia's trunk levitated off the ground steadily.
"Follow me, Miss Warrington," McGonagall said as she made her way up the stone steps "I will show you the grounds and then take you to your chambers."
"It has been a rather long journey for me, Professor." Aurelia ebbed uncertainly; keen that she wouldn't want to insult a woman who Aurelia knew was of great significance.
"Oh of course. Perhaps I can give you a tour when you are rested and settled."
"I honestly would love to explore the grounds myself. It can be my first adventure here."
"If you would prefer."
Aurelia's first thoughts were that she had never seen so many stones in her life. The second was that the light of the rising sun looked beautiful as it shone in brilliant gold rays through the large arched windows of Hogwarts.
She frequently stopped to gaze at tapestries and gasped as she recognized one that was so long it stretched along most of the corridor.
"Is this the-?"
"Bayeux tapestry? Oh, yes. I'm rather surprised you recognized it. Most people think it's another artifact collecting dust. Not that it can. The house elves would croak if anything collected dust."
"You have house elves here?" asked Aurelia as she hurried along after the swift stiff walking Professor McGonagall.
"They work in the kitchens and such. Clean the common rooms. Don't expect to see them. They consider it bad sport to be seen."
"One of the children that I was governess to had a personal house elf. It was rather good fun for her to make the poor things life a living hell."
"I can assure you, Miss Warrington," and the woman turned to sternly look at her through square spectacles "Hogwarts is not that kind of place."
Aurelia weakly smiled passed her weariness.
"I am very glad, Professor."
Professor Minerva McGonagall also returned a pleased sort of expression which Aurelia took as a reciprocal of her smile.
Aurelia woke in the morning and was for a moment forgetful of where she was, in a wonderful fleeting moment she remembered and she immediately rose to look about her. Her room was amply sized for her liking with a great bedstead intricately inscribed with vines and flowers that wrapped elegantly along the massive board. Swallows and sparrows nestled and flew along the silky polished wood and the bed curtains were made of a pretty pale sky colored silk. The strands glowed like fine spider thread in the afternoon light contrasting with the dark wood paneling along the walls. A fire burned brightly and Aurelia's feet were not chilled upon the stone ground, it was thankfully covered in a large Turkish carpet that stretched to almost all four corners of her cozy room.
The sun shone through the windows and the slightest dust flurries drifted in and out of the beams of light, dancing madly. With excited fingers and an uplifted spirit Aurelia dressed herself and sat looking at her reflection in the vanity that stood in front of Aurelia's triad of large thinly arched windows.
The young witch sitting there was dark haired and her lips were still soft with sleep still. Yet there was a happy air about her that was very nearly…magical