Authoress' Ranting: Hey, I'm actually updating! I know, it's surprising, yes?

I had a series of deadlines created for this story that I had deemed reasonable, but my muse decided that it was going to go on an extended vacation to Malaysia these past few months, and has not sent any postcards while she was gone. I have decided to just write and let inspiration come to me as I go. It didn't work too well in the beginning, but then I had a nice talk with my beta and I think I have things sorted out now.

I intended to update on my birthday, but it didn't work out that way. Either way, Happy Memorial Day (May 26th)! I am now fifteen!


The Orphan: Book Three
Chapter Two: The Hogwarts Express


Hestia woke on the last day of August to the pleasant, quaint sound of incessant splashing. In fact, if it hadn't been so infuriatingly loud, she may not have woken at the ungodly hour of six o'clock in the morning.

But it was that infuriatingly loud, and she didn't know what it was.

Hestia climbed from her bed and pulled on her dressing gown and slippers before padding down the hall.

It was then that she heard giggling. The soprano-high tinkling of a young girl and the crackling laughter of a young male whose voice had just become deep.

Blaise and Harry.

What in the name of the Lord were they up to now?

Hestia pushed open the door to the bathroom, wincing as it creaked and the three occupants inside turned to stare at her.

Oh, no.

Harry and Blaise were sitting on the tile by her antique bathtub, each holding a sponge and a bucket while a motionless Grim was actually sitting inside the tub, dripping wet.

"What do you two think you're doing?" Hestia screeched.

"Eh, well—we're going to Hogwarts tomorrow, so we thought we'd give Grim a bath so that he'd be clean for the ride up to King's Cross. We'll clean it up, I swear, but we were having a bit of trouble with—" Harry continued rambling, not noticing Blaise and Hestia's amusement.

"Harry, you can stop now," Blaise said.

Harry blushed. "Sorry."

"I don't care what you do to that poor dog, but you had better clean up afterward and put his collar back on when you're done." Hestia groaned and massaged the bridge of her nose. "I need coffee."

The older woman exited the bathroom without a backward glance.

oOoOo

Harry, Blaise, and Hestia made it to King's Cross with much hassle. Harry and Blaise, being typical procrastinators, had left packing until the very last moment. . . .

"Have you seen my cauldron? I can't find my cauldron!"

"Your cauldron? No. . . . Have you seen my Transfiguration book?"

"Tia, have you seen a pair of plaid pajama trousers?"

"What about a sock? I'm missing one!"

"I can't find my robes!"

"My shirts have gone missing!"

Off in the distance, the first warning bell for the Hogwart's Express rang.

The three of them ran through the barrier and Hestia helped them pull their trunks up into the train. Harry and Blaise climbed aboard just as the train began pulling out of the station.

"Wow, we made it," Blaise huffed, leaning against the wall of the train as it began picking up speed.

"Yeah, we did." Harry stopped to catch his breath.

"Well, come on—might as well find a compartment while there's still empty ones."

"I doubt there are any that are empty."

They eventually found a compartment at the very end of the train, but there was already someone sitting inside. He seemed to be sound asleep, his head pressed against the glass of the compartment window.

"There's nowhere else to sit, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "This works for me."

The two Slytherins entered the compartment warily, almost afraid to wake the other occupant. They stashed their trunks in the overhead racks and sat down opposite the man.

He didn't seem to be very well-off—quite the opposite, in fact. His robes were faded and patched multiple times. His tawny hair looked well cared for, but was obviously in need of a trim. There were dark circles under his eyes and the trunk above his head was worn and dented.

"What d'you reckon his name is?" asked Blaise.

"R. J. Lupin."

"Well, aren't you a little know-it-all?"

"It's written on the trunk."

"Oh." Blaise glanced at the trunk and noticed the inscription.

"I wonder what the 'R' stands for. . . ."

"No idea."

Blaise stretched out her arm in order to shake the man awake.

"Blaise, don't wake him up!"

"Oops. . . ." Too late.

R. J. Lupin was opening his eyes, blinking rapidly to get rid of the bleariness and revealing honey-colored irises in the process. When he noticed them, he jumped back in shock.

"Do I know you?"

He was looking at Harry, but it was Blaise that answered him.

"No, but I can introduce you," she said with a grin. "I'm Blaise Zabini and this is my best friend, Harry Potter."

"I'm pleased to meet you. I'm Remus Lupin."

"Remus is a cool name. I knew the 'R' couldn't stand for a weird name . . . like Ronald." This time the grin was a bit cheeky, as if sharing an inside joke.

Harry snorted at the same time Remus asked, "Ronald?"

"Ronald Weasley," Harry answered. "He's a Gryffindor in our year, and he's absolutely horrible. Prejudiced about everything under the sun."

Remus nodded. "What House are you two in?"

"Slytherin."

"Really?" Remus' eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"Of course! What other House would the Great Harry and Blaise be in?" Blaise snickered.

Remus had to chuckle. "I was in Gryffindor myself."

Harry looked to be contemplating something as he observed the older man. "Do you have a twin brother?"

". . . No. Why?"

"There's a Roman legend about twin brothers Remus and Romulus that were raised by a pack of wolves," Harry said.

Remus' eyes narrowed imperceptibly. "Hmm. . . . I may want to look into that twin brother thing, just to make sure," he mentioned with a slight upward turn of the lips.

Conversation died out for the time being. Remus passed the time by observing the passing scenery and occasionally reading from a book. Harry and Blaise amused themselves with a raucous game of tic-tac-toe.

Half an hour passed this way. The trolley lady came and went, and the two Slytherins had licorice wand wars and placed bets on who would get the rarer Chocolate Frog card. Remus won after opening a Chocolate Frog with a card of Agrippa inside. Harry and Blaise lost seven Sickles each.

None of them noticed the subtle change in temperature.

But when the window began frosting over and their breaths began to come out in puffs of white, they couldn't ignore it any longer.

Suddenly the train screeched to a halt.

"We c-can't be there yet." Blaise shivered.

"We aren't."

The compartment was quiet for several minutes, but the three occupants heard the rattling outside the door at the same time, and when a skeletal hand began inching the door open, breathing rapidly increased.

Harry was dizzy, and his eyes were getting blurry. All of a sudden, he couldn't remember where he was, but he could feel Blaise's cool skin next to his own, and she didn't seem to be in a better state than he was.

"No! Not Harry, please, not Harry! Take me instead!"

"You can't do this to me! No! You bastard!"

Harry and Blaise both passed out to the sound of a woman screaming.

oOoOo

Harry woke up slowly. As he opened his eyes, he could see Blaise just beginning to sit up beside him, and they both seemed to be laying on the floor. He pushed himself up groggily, seeing a blurry figure in front of him. Harry began searching the floor for his glasses, only to have the mystery person push them into his hands.

"Thanks," he said, and then coughed when his voice came out raspy.

"You're welcome, Harry," Remus said. "Here, both of you—eat this. It will help." He shoved a chunk of chocolate into each of their hands. "I'm going to have a talk with the conductor to see what just happened.

Remus exited the compartment.

"What just happened?" Blaise whispered.

"I have no idea, but there was a woman—she was screaming."

"I heard her, too."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence as the two contemplated the things they heard under the creature's influence. The only thing they noticed was Remus coming back and explaining that the creature had actually been a Dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban.

Harry felt overwhelming pity for Sirius Black.

oOoOo

Before they knew it, the train had reached Hogsmeade Station and they were climbing aboard one of the horseless carriages. The ride to the castle passed in minimal silence, the only whispers coming from the group of three Hufflepuff fifth-years that were sitting across from the two Slytherins.

The carriage stopped and they made their way into the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall was standing by the doors and stopped Harry from going in. Blaise glared at her in suspicion.

"I only wish to speak with Mr. Potter about his class schedule, Miss Zabini, so you can stop that incessant glare right this instant!" the professor admonished.

Blaise rolled her eyes, but left Harry with the woman after a muttered, "Geeks. . . ."

"Mr. Potter, if you will follow me. . . ." The Deputy Headmistress led the way to her office nearby the third-floor Transfiguration classroom. She opened the door and allowed Harry to pass through first.

Professor McGonagall's office contained only the necessities. Two chairs facing a desk were located in the center of the room, and bookcases covered most of the walls. Hermione was already seated in one of the chairs, and she gave a tentative smile when she saw Harry.

"Take a seat, Mr. Potter."

Harry did so.

"I have reviewed the lists you turned in stating the classes you wish to take this year, and I must say that I have never had a student here—in my entire teaching career—want to take as many classes as you two do."

Harry and Hermione shared a grin.

Your schedules are nearly identical. You will both be continuing with the core classes: Defense, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Herbology, and you both wish to take Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Forgotten Arts, Healing, and Ancient Runes. Am I correct?"

The two third years nodded.

"The only problem is that there is no way to fit all of these classes into your schedule. However . . . the Headmaster has talked to a department within the Ministry, and since you are both extremely good students, they are willing to make an exception."

Professor McGonagall slid open a drawer in her desks and took out two black velvet boxes. She opened one.

Inside was a golden pendent, with a circular charm. Inside the first circle was another circle and inside that one another circle. A small hourglass was cradled in the middle.

"This is a Time-Turner, and it does exactly what the name says it does—turns back time. You will use this device to turn back in time to go to each of your classes. As it is, some of your classes will be held at the same time. I expect you to find a secluded area after one class, turn the Time-Turner once, and then discreetly make your way to another class. Am I understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," the two students intoned.

"Good. Now, one turn should take you back exactly one hour, and that's all I expect you to do at a time. Another thing you need to be wary of is seeing yourself. Bad things happen to wizards who meddle with time, and if the past you and the present you collide, it will not be pretty. Make sure you pay attention to where you walk and where you are at certain times of the day. I do not want you running into your past selves."

McGonagall handed one of the cases to Hermione and the other to Harry.

"I want you to keep these on at all times, but remember to keep it hidden—you don't want anybody asking what it is and where you got it. And, good Lord, don't tell any of your friends about it!"

The woman stood up. "Well, come along. I expect the first years have already been Sorted."

The walk back to the Great Hall took nearly two minutes, and the entire time was filled with whispering between Harry and Hermione about their classes and their new tinker toys.

When Harry slid into the empty seat next to Blaise, the girl looked at him in confusion. "Where've you been?"

"I had to talk to McGonagall about my schedule." Leaning in closer, he whispered, "I'll tell you about it later."

"You had better," Blaise whispered back.