Dumbledore was rolling a sweet from one side of his mouth to the other and mumbling to himself. "Griffendore . . . and those boys . . . rascals (this with an indulgent smile) what can I tell them? Curses and a time turner, that ought not to have happened how many years I wonder and a muggle-born so many complications . . . have to call them in those boys and where was the last of them the little rat . . . in the kitchens perhaps . . . well, they won't believe me but better a nice firm lie than a lot of promises."

"We got your note professor," three eager faces looked up to his expectantly. "Who was that girl?" "Where'd she come from?" "Skulking about the castle as if she owned it . . ." "Bet I could guess where she's from."

"Ahhem! Would you like to hear what I've to tell you or not?"

"Yes please."

"Very well, that will require you to exercise the somewhat foreign faculty of listening." The slight was effective.

"I presume that you all would like to know about the sudden arrival of our new student."

"New student!" "We never get new students and it isn't even half term, and, but"

Dumbledore continued on smoothly, "Ms Granger joins us somewhat unexpectedly from Canada. The muggle aunt who was her guardian died unexpectedly and her nearest relation is here in England and naturally likes the idea of being on the same continent as her ward."

"Well but that's silly to move her hear right now." "And," said Remus quietly, "the accent is all wrong anyway, and she was wearing a funny uniform."

"Those are details that you will have to accept." Dumbledore was firm. "Ms Granger will be a Griffendore seventh year and I trust that you will do your best to make her feel welcome."

"But, but, . . . that can't be true."

"I'm afraid it is what you can be told and I suggest that you make what you can of it; Good day."

James Potter was stewing, heaving mad: "He's lying. I know it--bland hateful lies, who is she and what's she doing here? I don't like it one little bit."

"You think he doesn't realize that we don't believe him?" Remus asked his friend. "I don't think so, which means there must be something behind it really worth finding out it's a mystery!"

"Yeah, well it's a lousy one, it's just some girl."

"Just some girl? Sirius Black, since when have there ever been 'just girls' to you?"

"Yeah well, this one looked book-y bit stuffy and like she was scared of me or something, like she'd seen a bunch of ghosts or something, can't really fancy a skirt that's that frightened of me."

"That's reassuring mate. . ."