Chapter 2: The Guessing Game
Kiera sat, staring out the window, watching the landscape pass by her. How dare he. She said angrily to herself. That disgusting creature actually thought he could talk to her and about her like that? Disgusting, boorish creature. She had been so furious she was tempted to hex and castrate him where he had been sitting.
Eventually her thoughts settled and the passing landscape reminded her of home. Although, there weren't many rolling hills to speak of where she was from. The land there was mostly flat. She sighed, almost wishing she could be back. To be on her way to her own school, but she knew that she couldn't – that she had never had any choice in the matter.
"Why?" She had demanded to know when he had told her they were moving.
"You know very well why, Kiera." he said in a stern voice that meant she wasn't to question him further.
"I don't see why they need you." she couldn't help but say.
Her father had given her a stern look then – knowing full well that he would never have let anyone else continue a conversation he had clearly ended – but only replied in his usual dry but soft tone of voice that he used so often with her. "It's quite an honor; you know they rarely look outside Britain for new recruits."
"I know. I just don't want anything to happen to you."
He sat on the arm of the chair she stood near – a sign that he was getting weary with their conversation but that he didn't want to simply end it knowing how upset it had made her. "I won't lie to you," he began, "It will be dangerous. There are never guarantees that everything will turn out as we want it to." he said solemnly, "But I am good at what I do, if I weren't, they wouldn't have come to me." He placed his hand on her shoulder, a now resolute look on his face. "We take care of our own, Kiera."
She had nodded absently; she had heard him say that many times before. His faith in his colleagues was understandable – for they were powerful wizards and witches – but it was troubling nonetheless. She had long learned that you couldn't truly trust anyone except family and she had tried raising her concerns with him on a few occasions only to be met by his solemn nod and dismissive shoulder. She feared his faith – or was it loyalty? – would be his downfall. It made her chest feel tight.
All she knew was that she had to do what she could to help. It would be expected of her.
But what could she do? She knew it would be difficult beginning here as a 5th year. It put her at a distinct disadvantage. She bit her lip, thinking back to the advice her father had given her.
"Make friends." He had said that morning. "The right ones." He had quickly added before leaving her on the platform.
She turned to look at the boy sitting across from her who was now leafing through a book. Draco Malfoy. He hadn't needed to tell her his name. It was evident in his platinum hair and gray eyes. Draco Malfoy, she said to herself, son of Lucius Malfoy. I suppose he will do.
Turning back to the window, she stared out at the landscape until they arrived at their destination.
Slowly Kiera stood as the train came to a halt. "We're here." Draco said. His ability to state the obvious amused her, though she didn't let it show on her face. Gathering her things, she walked out into the corridor and was immediately taken by the current of students headed towards the exits.
Glancing back, she noticed Draco stepping into the crowd several meters behind her. Seeing the somewhat agitated look on his face, she figured he hadn't seen her leave. Lucky me, she grinned. It would give her time to think more clearly if she didn't have him crowding her very sensitive personal space for a while.
Finally she made it out of the train, still with no Draco in sight. Continuing to follow the crowd she eventually found herself in front of the gates that led to the castle grounds. Following the lead of the other students, she climbed into a carriage led by a strange, large, black bat-winged horse. She stared at it for a moment, thinking it to be the most beautiful creature she had ever seen.
"Thestral." She heard next to her. She turned, startled to not have realized that she was sitting with a few other students – obviously, she chided herself. She found herself facing a young witch, approximately her age with pale blue eyes, long scraggly dirty blond hair and an unusual dreamy look on her face. "It's a thestral." She repeated.
"I see." Kiera stated waningly, turning back to look at the beautiful creature before them.
"I was just explaining to Harry about them."
Kiera looked at the two boys and other girl sitting in the carriage with them. "I'm Harry," said a dark haired boy with green eyes and wire-rim glasses, "and this is Ron," gesturing to the red-headed boy to his right.
"Hi." Said the boy, weakly.
"and Luna," to the girl who had spoken of the thestral, who said nothing but maintained that look of not-quite-lucidity.
"and Hermione." finished Harry, gesturing to the frizzled-haired girl on his left.
"Nice to meet you!" Hermione eagerly said, enthusiastically shaking Kiera's hand. "I don't believe I've seen you here before, are you new?"
She was smiling broadly, making Kiera feel unusually ill at ease. "Yes, I am. My name is Kiera… Nice to meet you all."
"Where are you from?" Ron choked out. "I mean… I just noticed… uhm… your accent." Kiera noticed the dark look Hermione shot him. "Don't be rude, Ron!" She said.
"No, it's ok." Kiera smirked. "Though I would be rather interested if you could tell." She looked at Hermione. "You seem like you'd have a good chance of guessing."
Hermione seemed to blush. "Well, uhm..." she began. "Your accent is very faint, It's kind of difficult to tell.
Kiera laughed. "I suppose. How about a guess?"
"Oh 'mione doesn't guess." Ron said, causing Harry to burst out into laughter.
"Oh get off it, it's not that funny." Hermione said, hitting Harry in the arm and trying to reach Ron.
"It is too funny, 'mione" Harry said, his eyes watery. "You couldn't bring yourself to guess about anything if your life depended on it."
"I could too!" Hermione said.
"Prove it." Ron said.
"Ok. Fine." Hermione replied, straitening herself and turning back towards Kiera, "Judging by..."
"Hey now, that's not guessing." Harry said.
"Yea, no cheating." Ron added.
"That's not cheating. It's called an educated guess!" Hermione defended.
"Pff, in other words, not a guess at all." Ron muttered.
Merlin, Kiera thought to herself. Was a simple act of guessing where she was from so difficult? She was actually starting to miss Malfoy, at leas t the boy knew when to stop talking.
Finally they arrived at the castle and were getting out of the carriage, Ron and Harry just having somewhat correctly guessed where she was from when she heard her name being called.
"Miss. Vogel," it came from her right. Turning she found herself facing a man she assumed to be one of the professors.
"Professor Snape," came the almost simultaneous confirmation from the trio. Luna still seemed pleasantly absent from what was going on around her.
The man was clad in black, from his feet to his coat and cloak. Even his hair and eyes were as black as onyx. His skin was pale – made paler in contrast to the rest of him. He seemed to be in his forties, his face deeply wrinkled in places that showed he spent most of his time with narrowed slits for eyes and an almost permanent scowl.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger." The man dryly acknowledged in turn. "What a surprise."
As the trio bid her farewell – giving the professor a look that spoke volumes about what they thought of him – she noticed that most of the other students also seemed put-off by his presence.
"Professor." She stated.
"Miss Vogel." He repeated. "The Headmaster sent me to get you. He wishes to speak to you before the – festivities – begin." He said dryly. She mused he considered tonight's festivities to be anything but festive. Nodding at his statement, she accompanied him to the castle.
