Disclaimer: Ok, you know the drill. Everything that you recognize belongs
to the goddess JK Rowling. The plot and several characters are mine.
That's it.
Rain poured down from the sky. A fearsome wind howled, shrieking as it struck the side of the Hogwarts Express. It was hardly noticed by everyone who was riding it, except for one.
She jumped as she felt the wind collide with the train, then tried to relax. It was to no avail. Her breathing heightened and she gripped the sides of her seat involuntarily. Her sensitive, keen senses caused her to feel every vibration, every movement, as though it felt multiplied tenfold.
Calming down, she loosened her grip and stared dismally out of the window. The glass reflected the profile of her face. Her eyes searched far out, out over the countryside. They glittered ominously, bringing a slight pigment of light to her otherwise dark pupils. Remembrance flooded over her. She hated to remember, but it happened. It always did. She was just glad that she was alone right now, when it had to happen.
She did not cry, but a tear leaked its way out of her sinister-like eye and fell down her cheek, traced its way to the tip of her chin, and rested there, threatening to drop. It was followed by several more, dripping onto her robes. She did not make a sound, but her eyes hardened at the memories, those cruel memories. They had taken everything away from her. Her family, her life, her soul. She was all alone in the world now.
With her memories.
~~~
"Gosh, it's really pouring outside. Good thing we're under cover."
Harry Potter looked out of the window in his train compartment as he made this remark. His best friend, Ron Weasley, sat across from him, throwing Fizzing Whizbees in the air and catching them in his mouth. Ron spoke around a mouthful, "Yeah, wuddent wanna cross in this weathah." He swallowed as Pigwidgeon twittered happily in his cage.
Hermione Granger looked up from Hogwarts, A History, which she had been rereading for the fifth time. "We're almost there, though, so we'll be outside in no time." Crookshanks pounced into her lap; she stroked him, and he purred loudly.
"Yeah, a nice little start to our year- drowning in the rain outside," Harry said. "Though I suppose it's better than drowning in the rain outside, carrying an angry, wet cat." He said this with a glance at Crookshanks, Hermione's large, fluffy ginger-colored cat.
Hermione sniffed. "I've got him his own basket; he won't get wet."
"Let's hope not," Ron muttered, "or else we'll be hearing the latest rendition of the Cat Opera."
"Ha, ha, ha," Hermione said sarcastically. "Even if his basket doesn't work, I've put a simple drying charm on him."
"Wonderful," Harry sighed. "Let's just hope that this year is better than the last."
They sat in silence for a while thinking of the previous year. Harry's mind wandered from the new threat of Voldemort to his summer. He had spent most of it at the Dursleys enjoying tormenting Dudley and threatening Uncle Vernon with Sirius, who actually was currently residing at Remus Lupin's house. He had gone out to Diagon Alley one day by himself and had met up with the Weasleys. The rest of the summer he spent there. Suddenly each was jerked from their thoughts by the sudden screeching halt of the Hogwarts Express. Ron was lurched forward and crashed straight into Hermione. Harry couldn't help but grin at the amusing sight.
"Ron, I know you've got major hots for Hermione, but please try to be more discreet."
"Shut up," Ron snapped glaring at him. Hermione blushed scarlet.
Still smiling, Harry led the descent from the train. A familiar voice called, "Firs' years! Firs' years this way!" Looking up through the rain, Harry could make out the hulking mass of Hagrid. He waved to him; the giant waved back with a smile, still calling for the first years.
The three crowded into one carriage. Harry sat across from Hermione, who realized suddenly that she was sitting next to Ron. Given the conversation that had just been held, Hermione didn't look too pleased at the seating arrangements. Harry smiled wickedly at the furious-looking Ron and turned to look outside. Suddenly he jumped slightly in surprise.
A girl was sitting next to him. He hadn't heard her clamber into the cart. Harry couldn't see her face as her back was turned to him. She was looking out of the window, not paying her fellow passengers any heed.
Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione, and was about to attempt conversation with this stranger when the cart creaked forward and it became impossible to hear anything except for the squealing tires.
They reached the great looming castle and the carts stopped. The unknown girl was the first to jump out. Harry clambered quickly out to catch her and find out who she was. But when he landed, he looked around and saw no trace of the strange girl. It was as though she had vanished.
"Odd huh?" Ron remarked as he came out beside Harry. "What was she doing in our cart anyway?"
"It's not as though she didn't have as much of a right to be in there as we did," Hermione snapped as she landed on the ground.
"That's right, Weasley," drawled an all-too-familiar voice. "Why don't you listen to your Mudblood friend drone on about the rights of freaks? It was house-elves last year, after all-"
Harry had to hold on hard to Ron's robes as he furiously launched himself at Draco Malfoy, who unsurprisingly was flanked by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Chancing a glance at Hermione, he was surprised to see his other friend red in the face from rage as well. He knew that Hermione had disbanded S.P.E.W. earlier that summer- she had explained in a letter to him that "the elves just didn't appreciate it at all and it seemed better to keep them happy as they are"- but that still didn't stop her from trembling with fury and restraining herself not to follow Ron's lead. Hurriedly Harry realized that he would have to be the one who held them all back from falling into total vehemence, and so he quickly fired an insult back at his nemesis. "At least she's gotten better grades than you for the past four years. That's a long time, isn't it Malfoy? A common, Muggle- born beating the infamous Draco-"
But Harry realized to his amazement that Malfoy wasn't paying attention to his offensive language. Actually, he was staring wide-eyed at something else. A girl was standing in front of him, apparently staring him down. Although Harry could only see the girl's back, he recognized her instantly as the girl who had shared the carriage with them. Apparently her gaze was so furious or so freakish- he wasn't quite sure which- that it was making Malfoy back away. From what Harry could see of him, he didn't really have a look of terror on his face, but one of astonishment and awe, and a slight bit of fear. Crabbe and Goyle also took a step back, stupid confusion plainly stamped on their trollish faces.
For a moment the girl held Malfoy's gaze- he seemed unable to turn away- when finally she spoke.
"From what I heard, you were implying I was a freak." Her voice surprised Harry: it was rather deep for a girl, with a slight melodious undertone buzzing, weaving its way through. A slight American accent was traceable in her soft, husky voice. "But I'm sure you didn't really mean that- did you?" At her last words her tone of voice turned sharply upwards; Harry could sense a snarl in it, which made him hope that Malfoy was stupid enough to answer affirmatively to her question; he would have liked to see what the girl would do to him.
Most unfortunately for Harry, Malfoy was not an idiot, and he only managed to cast a resentful look in the girl's direction. Still the girl's glare did not seem to falter, and after a few more fidgety moments, Malfoy turned to Crabbe and Goyle and muttered bitterly, "C'mon." They left, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione staring open-mouthed at the girl's back, who was still looking after the retreating backs of the Slytherins.
Ron spoke first. "Ah- ermghhh- how...?" was all he was able to manage.
The girl slowly turned to face the three of them. It was all Harry was able to do not to gasp.
It wasn't really her face that was disturbing; although her skin was paler than normal and her nose small and turned up, and her dark hair hanging loosely around her in long, almost sinister waves, matching her dark arched eyebrows. It was her eyes. Dark black was a bit of an understatement. Her pupils were indistinguishable from her irises, which were as dark and empty as midnight. They were completely devoid of any possible color or light, just swirls of shadow and seemingly pits of death. No pigments gave anything to those mysterious eyes except total darkness.
She held them in her gaze for a moment, and Harry suddenly understood how she had been able to scare off Malfoy and his gang. Her stare was all- penetrating, and it seemed as though the girl could see right through his thoughts. Then she blinked, letting her eyes close for a few moments. It was all the three needed to recollect themselves. The girl, sensing that her stare was holding them under a thrall, kept them closed as she spoke to them.
"Your foes are weak. It's sickening."
Then she swept off. Harry, regaining his senses, shook himself and looked frantically through the crowd for the odd girl. But again, she seemed to have Apparated off to somewhere else. Harry knew better than to convey this thought to Hermione, who would merely launch off into her "How many times have I told you that you can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds" speech which he and Ron heard several times a year each. But looking back at his friends, Harry realized that they were both as stupefied as he.
Suddenly they snapped back to reality; it was pouring rain outside, and they were holding up a jostling crowd who were trying to enter the building. The three hastened to get inside under cover. Ron finally broke the silence. "I'll tell you, that's the weirdest girl I've met in a while, and I've met quite a few."
"Like Fleur Delacour?" Hermione replied scathingly.
With a glare at her, Ron continued, "I'm serious. There's something odd about her."
Hermione was about to scoff some more when Harry interrupted her. "Ron's right. I'm sure she wasn't at Hogwarts last year; we would have noticed her."
The three were about to enter the Great Hall when Professor Dumbledore walked up to them. "Harry," he began. "I need to talk to you." He gave a small glance to Ron and Hermione. "In private."
Harry sighed inwardly; he had been looking forward to actually being able to see the Sorting again this year, but how could he refuse the Headmaster? He nodded to his two friends, who were staring at him blankly, and followed Dumbledore up to his office. The stone gargoyle stood there blocking the entrance as immovable as ever until the Professor gave it the password ("Acid Pops!"), when it sprung aside and left the two free to enter and for Harry to hear whatever it was that Dumbledore wanted to tell him.
Rain poured down from the sky. A fearsome wind howled, shrieking as it struck the side of the Hogwarts Express. It was hardly noticed by everyone who was riding it, except for one.
She jumped as she felt the wind collide with the train, then tried to relax. It was to no avail. Her breathing heightened and she gripped the sides of her seat involuntarily. Her sensitive, keen senses caused her to feel every vibration, every movement, as though it felt multiplied tenfold.
Calming down, she loosened her grip and stared dismally out of the window. The glass reflected the profile of her face. Her eyes searched far out, out over the countryside. They glittered ominously, bringing a slight pigment of light to her otherwise dark pupils. Remembrance flooded over her. She hated to remember, but it happened. It always did. She was just glad that she was alone right now, when it had to happen.
She did not cry, but a tear leaked its way out of her sinister-like eye and fell down her cheek, traced its way to the tip of her chin, and rested there, threatening to drop. It was followed by several more, dripping onto her robes. She did not make a sound, but her eyes hardened at the memories, those cruel memories. They had taken everything away from her. Her family, her life, her soul. She was all alone in the world now.
With her memories.
~~~
"Gosh, it's really pouring outside. Good thing we're under cover."
Harry Potter looked out of the window in his train compartment as he made this remark. His best friend, Ron Weasley, sat across from him, throwing Fizzing Whizbees in the air and catching them in his mouth. Ron spoke around a mouthful, "Yeah, wuddent wanna cross in this weathah." He swallowed as Pigwidgeon twittered happily in his cage.
Hermione Granger looked up from Hogwarts, A History, which she had been rereading for the fifth time. "We're almost there, though, so we'll be outside in no time." Crookshanks pounced into her lap; she stroked him, and he purred loudly.
"Yeah, a nice little start to our year- drowning in the rain outside," Harry said. "Though I suppose it's better than drowning in the rain outside, carrying an angry, wet cat." He said this with a glance at Crookshanks, Hermione's large, fluffy ginger-colored cat.
Hermione sniffed. "I've got him his own basket; he won't get wet."
"Let's hope not," Ron muttered, "or else we'll be hearing the latest rendition of the Cat Opera."
"Ha, ha, ha," Hermione said sarcastically. "Even if his basket doesn't work, I've put a simple drying charm on him."
"Wonderful," Harry sighed. "Let's just hope that this year is better than the last."
They sat in silence for a while thinking of the previous year. Harry's mind wandered from the new threat of Voldemort to his summer. He had spent most of it at the Dursleys enjoying tormenting Dudley and threatening Uncle Vernon with Sirius, who actually was currently residing at Remus Lupin's house. He had gone out to Diagon Alley one day by himself and had met up with the Weasleys. The rest of the summer he spent there. Suddenly each was jerked from their thoughts by the sudden screeching halt of the Hogwarts Express. Ron was lurched forward and crashed straight into Hermione. Harry couldn't help but grin at the amusing sight.
"Ron, I know you've got major hots for Hermione, but please try to be more discreet."
"Shut up," Ron snapped glaring at him. Hermione blushed scarlet.
Still smiling, Harry led the descent from the train. A familiar voice called, "Firs' years! Firs' years this way!" Looking up through the rain, Harry could make out the hulking mass of Hagrid. He waved to him; the giant waved back with a smile, still calling for the first years.
The three crowded into one carriage. Harry sat across from Hermione, who realized suddenly that she was sitting next to Ron. Given the conversation that had just been held, Hermione didn't look too pleased at the seating arrangements. Harry smiled wickedly at the furious-looking Ron and turned to look outside. Suddenly he jumped slightly in surprise.
A girl was sitting next to him. He hadn't heard her clamber into the cart. Harry couldn't see her face as her back was turned to him. She was looking out of the window, not paying her fellow passengers any heed.
Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione, and was about to attempt conversation with this stranger when the cart creaked forward and it became impossible to hear anything except for the squealing tires.
They reached the great looming castle and the carts stopped. The unknown girl was the first to jump out. Harry clambered quickly out to catch her and find out who she was. But when he landed, he looked around and saw no trace of the strange girl. It was as though she had vanished.
"Odd huh?" Ron remarked as he came out beside Harry. "What was she doing in our cart anyway?"
"It's not as though she didn't have as much of a right to be in there as we did," Hermione snapped as she landed on the ground.
"That's right, Weasley," drawled an all-too-familiar voice. "Why don't you listen to your Mudblood friend drone on about the rights of freaks? It was house-elves last year, after all-"
Harry had to hold on hard to Ron's robes as he furiously launched himself at Draco Malfoy, who unsurprisingly was flanked by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Chancing a glance at Hermione, he was surprised to see his other friend red in the face from rage as well. He knew that Hermione had disbanded S.P.E.W. earlier that summer- she had explained in a letter to him that "the elves just didn't appreciate it at all and it seemed better to keep them happy as they are"- but that still didn't stop her from trembling with fury and restraining herself not to follow Ron's lead. Hurriedly Harry realized that he would have to be the one who held them all back from falling into total vehemence, and so he quickly fired an insult back at his nemesis. "At least she's gotten better grades than you for the past four years. That's a long time, isn't it Malfoy? A common, Muggle- born beating the infamous Draco-"
But Harry realized to his amazement that Malfoy wasn't paying attention to his offensive language. Actually, he was staring wide-eyed at something else. A girl was standing in front of him, apparently staring him down. Although Harry could only see the girl's back, he recognized her instantly as the girl who had shared the carriage with them. Apparently her gaze was so furious or so freakish- he wasn't quite sure which- that it was making Malfoy back away. From what Harry could see of him, he didn't really have a look of terror on his face, but one of astonishment and awe, and a slight bit of fear. Crabbe and Goyle also took a step back, stupid confusion plainly stamped on their trollish faces.
For a moment the girl held Malfoy's gaze- he seemed unable to turn away- when finally she spoke.
"From what I heard, you were implying I was a freak." Her voice surprised Harry: it was rather deep for a girl, with a slight melodious undertone buzzing, weaving its way through. A slight American accent was traceable in her soft, husky voice. "But I'm sure you didn't really mean that- did you?" At her last words her tone of voice turned sharply upwards; Harry could sense a snarl in it, which made him hope that Malfoy was stupid enough to answer affirmatively to her question; he would have liked to see what the girl would do to him.
Most unfortunately for Harry, Malfoy was not an idiot, and he only managed to cast a resentful look in the girl's direction. Still the girl's glare did not seem to falter, and after a few more fidgety moments, Malfoy turned to Crabbe and Goyle and muttered bitterly, "C'mon." They left, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione staring open-mouthed at the girl's back, who was still looking after the retreating backs of the Slytherins.
Ron spoke first. "Ah- ermghhh- how...?" was all he was able to manage.
The girl slowly turned to face the three of them. It was all Harry was able to do not to gasp.
It wasn't really her face that was disturbing; although her skin was paler than normal and her nose small and turned up, and her dark hair hanging loosely around her in long, almost sinister waves, matching her dark arched eyebrows. It was her eyes. Dark black was a bit of an understatement. Her pupils were indistinguishable from her irises, which were as dark and empty as midnight. They were completely devoid of any possible color or light, just swirls of shadow and seemingly pits of death. No pigments gave anything to those mysterious eyes except total darkness.
She held them in her gaze for a moment, and Harry suddenly understood how she had been able to scare off Malfoy and his gang. Her stare was all- penetrating, and it seemed as though the girl could see right through his thoughts. Then she blinked, letting her eyes close for a few moments. It was all the three needed to recollect themselves. The girl, sensing that her stare was holding them under a thrall, kept them closed as she spoke to them.
"Your foes are weak. It's sickening."
Then she swept off. Harry, regaining his senses, shook himself and looked frantically through the crowd for the odd girl. But again, she seemed to have Apparated off to somewhere else. Harry knew better than to convey this thought to Hermione, who would merely launch off into her "How many times have I told you that you can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds" speech which he and Ron heard several times a year each. But looking back at his friends, Harry realized that they were both as stupefied as he.
Suddenly they snapped back to reality; it was pouring rain outside, and they were holding up a jostling crowd who were trying to enter the building. The three hastened to get inside under cover. Ron finally broke the silence. "I'll tell you, that's the weirdest girl I've met in a while, and I've met quite a few."
"Like Fleur Delacour?" Hermione replied scathingly.
With a glare at her, Ron continued, "I'm serious. There's something odd about her."
Hermione was about to scoff some more when Harry interrupted her. "Ron's right. I'm sure she wasn't at Hogwarts last year; we would have noticed her."
The three were about to enter the Great Hall when Professor Dumbledore walked up to them. "Harry," he began. "I need to talk to you." He gave a small glance to Ron and Hermione. "In private."
Harry sighed inwardly; he had been looking forward to actually being able to see the Sorting again this year, but how could he refuse the Headmaster? He nodded to his two friends, who were staring at him blankly, and followed Dumbledore up to his office. The stone gargoyle stood there blocking the entrance as immovable as ever until the Professor gave it the password ("Acid Pops!"), when it sprung aside and left the two free to enter and for Harry to hear whatever it was that Dumbledore wanted to tell him.