Disclaimer: Harry POTTER, character, names and related indicia are trademarks of and © Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © JKR. I do not make any $$$ from the publishing of this story to any website.
Warning: The following story contains themes not suitable for a younger audience. It will retain an M+ rating as it contains triggers regarding violence and sexual situations. While I will not go into detail for some scenes, leaving them to happen in the background, this nonetheless warrants a Mature Rating. Please be responsible in reading this.
"Thoughts, Fears & Doubts"
2 September, 1991
A soft breeze of cool air brushed gently against a girl's face soaked in sweat and sent a shiver down the girl's back as her eyes flew open. She didn't have a window in the little cupboard under the stairs. Sure, the cupboard was nearly always cold throughout the winter, but she had never felt a breeze on her face while curled in her bed before. The following thought that flashed through the little girl's mind was that she had awoken on the broken cot in the tool shed. Yet, she wasn't on a broken cot, or in the broken mattress she knew so well. The girl bolted out from underneath the heavy quilt and the four poster bed. It took a few moments for her to remember that she was no longer at the home of her relatives. She was in the shared bedroom for the First Year girls, for those of which had been sorted into Ravenclaw at "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry".
Holly wiped her hand over her soaking forehead, brushing the fringe of her hair away from her eyes as they attempted to adjust to the early morning darkness. There was an unfamiliar tingling sensation where the bolt-shaped scar ran along her temple before disappearing into her hairline. This was something new to the young Witch. She wasn't aware of ever feeling her scars tingle before. Searching in the darkness, she found the small bedside table with her glasses. She had managed to use some string from one of her shirts to tie the broken arm back to the spectacles. While they weren't new, they were good enough. Holly made a mental note to try one of the spells she had read about in her textbook on her glasses when she had the opportunity.
With the glasses resting against the bridge of her nose, Holly's eyesight only marginally improved. At least she could tell that the other girls in the room were still fast asleep in their own beds. One of the girls was busy sucking on her thumb and rubbing the corner of her pillow between her fingers, while another girl was mumbling something in her sleep. Hermione's curtains had been opened at some point in the night, yet she remained hidden beneath her own bedding. Holly was quiet and careful as she pulled out a fresh set of clothes from the small bureau beside her bedside. At some point the previous evening, her personal belongings had been moved from her trunk and into the small chest..
With the bundle of clothing and a folded towel in hand, Holly made her way to the shared bathroom connected to the dormitory. It wasn't too large with only a couple of privy stalls, trio of shower stalls and a pair of sinks with adjacent mirrors. The small girl set her bundle of clothing in a basket next to one of the shower stalls before stepping in. It felt good for her to strip out of the sweat-soaked pajamas and stand under a steady stream of hot water. How often had she wished for this? How many times had her relatives forced the girl to bathe behind the tool shed with a metal tub and the garden hose? Even after a month of showering thrice daily at "The Leaky Cauldron", she loved the feeling of hot water against her body. Holly was unaware how long she stood beneath the constant stream of water before she stepped out with a towel wrapped around her body. She took a seat on the wooden bench against the wall opposite of the shower stall before she started to get dressed.
She had avoided trying on any of the new clothing that had been given to her at "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions" during her stay at "The Leaky Cauldron". It had been the first time she received anything that had not been previously worn. With everything that had happened the previous evening, she had not had the opportunity to appreciate the new clothing or how it fit against her skin. The white button down shirt felt cool to the touch and fit her perfectly. As she pulled up her skirt, she had felt nervous. Previous experiences with the games her cousin enjoyed playing, made her acutely aware of the unmistakable feeling of exposure underneath the article of clothing, even with her knickers on. A shiver of dread ran up her spine as she painfully recalled those games.
Holly put on the necktie she had not remembered grabbing, enjoying the sensation of touching the fine material. As she knotted the silk necktie under the collar of the white shirt, Holly remembered the first time her uncle had "taught" her how to properly do a necktie. It had been after one of Vernon Dursley's many early morning lessons before he was due for work. A tear threatened to roll down the small girl's cheek as she shuddered. She was not with the Dursley's now. Her Uncle Vernon could not force one of his lessons on her. She just had to continue telling herself that, like she had after the first night at "The Leaky Cauldron" and nearly every morning since..
Once Holly tugged the pullover over her head and then the black socks and loafers on her feet, she stood in front of a mirror. Her hair was a mess and down to the middle of her back, her bangs did a marvelous job of obscuring her eyes. Still, she felt nice. Standing there in front of the mirror dressed up in her school uniform. It was the first time in her life she had ever worn such nice clothing. She slipped on her plain black robe, only to be surprised to find the Ravenclaw House Crest was clearly emblazoned over her right budding breast. Like her previously black necktie, now a mix of blue and gold, the change must have been made while she was asleep.
She grabbed her wand from the bureau and for a second, felt like she truly was a Witch. Even with the magic that surrounded her at "The Leaky Cauldron", the persistent feelings of doubt had fell heavily over her heart. She had silently prayed, as she had been taught to do, time and time again that this had not been some grievous mistake. She prayed that she belonged. She wanted to continue to live this magical life, although a part of Holly deep in her heart missed the life she had at her relatives. That included the punishments and lessons from her Uncle Vernon. This was the same part of her that questioned whether she was ever allowed happiness, and reaffirmed that she deserved the life she lived before Rubeus Hagrid rescued her.
Holly Potter looked out the window, taking note that the Sun had not even began its' rise over the mountains past the lake below. She was awake much earlier than she had realized. So much so that even after her long shower, none of the other girls had stirred awake. She tip-toed quietly out of the room past the four sleeping girls and down the stairs to the large, round common room. The fire in the hearth had slowly died down throughout the late night, but was beginning to spring itself back to life as she moved closer to it. Holly took a moment to further explore the circular room. It truly was magnificent and magical. Hanging from the wall were several paintings, their inhabitants asleep and moving much like the pictures in her books. The room was cozy and inviting, but it was set up in a way to promote studying with plenty of offered reading. She moved over to one of the large shelves decorating the wall and looked at the collection of publications. Most of them contained ostentatious titles. Holly pulled a rather large book from the bottom shelf and opened it to a random page. The entire book was nothing more than complex mathematical string of equations and strange algebraic symbols. She found it extremely interesting and wondered how she could learn something like this when her stomach finally decided to protest in hunger. A feeling she was not unfamiliar with.
The small girl hadn't really eaten much the night before, or even the previous day for that matter. She wondered if the food would always be as rich as it had been the previous night. If it had, she would have a hard time eating any of it. Otherwise she might to start feeling sick to her stomach like she had the night before. Thankfully the dull throb and shooting pains in her stomach had lessened during the night though they were still present.
She wondered if it was too early to make her way down to The Great Hall. There was an old clock hanging on the wall above the mantelpiece. The small hand was situated between the five and six while the long hand was nearly to the ten. It really was early after-all. According to the rules in her book, "Hogwarts: A History by Bathilda Bagshot", there was an evening curfew of when students were meant to be in their common room and a designated time when the younger students were meant to be in their dormitories by. Yet, Holly couldn't recollect any mentions of a rule stating she wasn't allowed to go down to The Great Hall early. If anything, this was more of an unstated rule. Something the young Witch would be completely unaware of. She wondered if she would get into trouble and that fear nearly kept her from venturing out of the common room if not for her protesting stomach. How many times had she had to sneak food anyways? How often had she gone to bed without any food, only to wake up the next morning and not be allowed any scraps from Dudley's plate? She was hungry. It has only been within the last month that no one has told her she was not allowed to eat.
As Holly made it down to The Great Hall undisturbed, the barest hint of rays were just beginning to break the early morning darkness. She wondered how long it would be before the sun had climbed the height of the mountains and washed the school in it's early morning light. She had only just taken a seat at Ravenclaw's elongated table when her stomach gave an audible plea to be filled. The thought of a hot bowl of boiled oats sounded appealing to the girl. Holly blinked and before her was a bowl, full of hot and creamy porridge. There was even a little cinnamon sugar sprinkled on top of the otherwise bland tasting mix. Beside the hot bowl was a small cup of fresh orange juice along with a small spoon.
She wondered how it had appeared so quickly, with her just thinking about it. At the First Feast, the headmaster had given his arms a wave or a snap of his fingers. She wasn't sure which. Yet, loads of food had appeared before the students. Holly wasn't the headmaster though, and she surely had not snapped or waved her arms, had she? She didn't believe she had said anything, but what if she had? It wouldn't be the first time she had spoken accidentally without realizing it.
Her stomach felt very empty, so the girl cautiously dug into the steaming hot bowl of boiled oats. It was bland to the taste and burned her mouth with each spoonful she swallowed, just as she knew it would. This was the sort of food she was used to, at least when she was allowed to eat. Although, normally it isn't nearly as thick whenever her aunt made it for her. Her relatives had a penchant of distrusting the girl preparing her own food when they allowed her to eat. Her uncle was always the one to voice the opinion that men do not belong in the kitchen. So this left her aunt to be the one responsible with preparing the girl's food. The number of times a meal been nothing more than a cold bowl of water with a spoonful of bland oats, beans or rice was grossly unimaginable. This was only broken up by the rarity of being allowed the scraps of Dudley's meal, which was often just as meager. It was both a comfort and a painful reminder of the house she had lived in all her life.
Maybe she wouldn't have to worry about how rich the food is, if she is able to have boiled oats to eat. She thought about how nice bread would go with the steaming bowl of porridge. One of the few things that Holly loved in the world was baking fresh bread every few days and the smell of it coming right from the oven. She was never allowed to enjoy it but how wonderful would it be if she could enjoy some right now? A small woven basket appeared in front of the small girl, as if out of the thin air. Inside were a couple thick slices of fresh bread, hot as if it had just come out of an oven only moments before. Gingerly, she took a slice of the piping hot bread and dunked it her orange juice. She hadn't bothered to drink any yet. Once the bread had soaked up as much juice as it could, Holly took a big bite out of it.
The moment the tart taste touched her burnt tongue, it started to cool her taste buds gently. She couldn't remember the last time she had been allowed something as simple as a taste of orange juice. It had to have been a very special holiday when she was still a baby. The young Witch continued to eat her bowl of porridge, happily drinking down her cup of orange juice. Once more before her eyes, the flatware and crockery vanished as fast as it had appeared. Even the small droplet of oats that landed on the table had magically vanished.
This practically left nothing for Holly to do, as she had not thought to bring one of her books with her. So, she sat there and waited. The dark morning sky had started to lighten into pale shades of blue as the Sun crested the mountains to the east. After a few minutes, she put her head down and rested her chin against her chest. With eyes closed, she let her mind wander and her attention drift away.
Professor Minerva McGonagall has been the first one to The Great Hall for the past thirty-five years. She had prided herself on an exemplary record of being the first to enjoy the relaxing atmosphere of silence before students would begin to venture from bed and dorm for breakfast. She had been caught by surprise to see Holly Potter already sitting at the Ravenclaw table. She had spent a moment watching the girl eat her breakfast. The bowl in front of her piping hot with ribbons of steam rising from its contents. It had to be burning hot, yet the young Witch didn't blow on it before she shoved spoonful after spoonful into her mouth. To say she was shocked might be mildly putting it, as she observed Ms. Potter dunk a chunk of hot bread into her goblet before eating it.
The elder Witch was tempted to announce her presence to the young Ravenclaw, rather than give the child a fright. As she stepped up behind the young girl, McGonagall could hear her mumbling something to herself. It sounded to the professor as if the young girl was repeating a verse from one of her textbooks. It took only a moment for her to realize that she really was repeating a verse from her assigned Transfigurations textbook, word for word.
The Deputy Headmistress wondered if maybe the young student was just playing a prank on her, but then how could she know that McGonagall was the Transfigurations Professor? Unless the older students had made mention of it. Nonetheless, Holly Potter continued to sit there unaware of the elderly Witch behind her, reciting passage after passage from the book.
Minerva McGonagall knew that much like punishments, house points were considered discretionary and up to the professors to aware them as they see fit. She decided at the moment to award Ms. Potter five points to Ravenclaw for being a well prepared student. Her attention shifted from the small girl to the four large hourglasses that sat affixed to a platform behind the head table at the end of the hall. Each hourglass was filled with a magical sand of different color, representing the four individual houses. After awarding Ravenclaw 5 points, the appropriate amount of sand fell into the bottom portion of the respective house. The elderly Witch allowed herself a rare smile as she told herself that the games were about to begin.
The professor made her way to the far end of the hall to take her own seat at the head table so that she may enjoy her own breakfast. It was the most important meal of the day after all and she would be far too busy handing out schedules to Gryffindor students to be able to enjoy it later. As she took a seat at the long mahogany table, a plate of cut fruit appeared before her alongside a small bowl of white cottage cheese and her flatware. It had been the very same breakfast she had enjoyed since she was but a minister's daughter in the Scottish Highlands. Of course, those had been much more trying times as a corrupt Wizard lead his dark campaign through a conquest of neighboring countries. His campaign had been nothing more than the nearly total extermination of those he deemed inferior to him based purely on their appearance and faith.
Professor Mcgonagall went through a parchment she had brought along with her as she continued to eat her breakfast. For quite some time, it had only been Ms. Potter and herself within the Great Hall, but there were soon joined by another professor and a few early rising students. The elderly Witch greeted the fellow professor pleasantly, offering a few soft spoken words of conversation. There was a moment of unease as the peaceful silence of the morning was broken. With another professor joining them for breakfast a short time later, McGonagall took the opportunity to turn her attention back on Ms. Potter. She watched the lone Ravenclaw student continue to sit with her head down, her lips moving with silent reciting of memorized information.
As Minerva kept her eye on the young Witch, she felt almost compelled to look away and focus on something else. It did not take much for the experienced Witch to dispel those feelings away with Will alone. It was in this moment that a sad realization came to the professor. Young Ms. Potter was inadvertently and accidentally casting magic on herself. Minerva recognized the spell immediately as a Notice-Me-Not charm, albeit vastly under-powered. It made the elderly Witch wonder what could have happened, to make a child want to disappear so much that they would unconsciously cast such a difficult charm purely by natural magic alone.
As all Witches and Wizards would learn as they grow, young magical children often have little to no control over their own magic. It is commonly known that young magical children will use their magic often times in moments of duress. Yet, as they grow older, their magic begins to mature with them. This means that accidental magic occurs less frequently. By the time young Witches and Wizards reach their eleventh birthday, they are much less likely casting magic by accident. It is through the use of their wands, that they are taught to control it and give it form.
What left the Transfiguration Professor confused was that while the young girl had certainly reached her eleventh birthday in July, she was still casting magically accidentally. The Notice-Me-Not charm is considered by most, to be an advanced spell and It requires immense concentration to cast properly. The original intention of the spell was to keep muggles from stumbling upon the magical world and places rich in produced magic. It was the very same charm that protected many magical communities from interference of the non-magical world. As such, the spell wasn't normally taught to students at "Hogwarts" unless they attain no less than an O on their O.W.L.s for Theory of Charms, History of Magic, and Applied Charms before proceeding to their N.E.W.T. classes. The charm was not purposely designed to work on other Witches and Wizards. Yet, there sat an eleven year old girl, unconsciously casting such a difficult charm on herself while reciting a passage from a text book.
Holly Potter wasn't aware that she was casting magic or even that she had quietly recited a couple of chapters from "A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch". She hadn't been sure what to do when she finished eating her breakfast, so sitting and waiting to be told was her safest bet. She had her head down, her eyes following the grain of wood and spiral patterns beneath the finished surface of the table. It helped that no one ever seemed to bother her when she put her head down. She always assumed that because her head was down, people simply ignored her. The small girl was reminded of when she began Primary and what lead to this line of reasoning.
There was an air of apprehension around the small waif of a girl as she held a tatty bag tightly to her chest. Inside the bag was an equally as tatty workbook with pages torn, missing or scribbled all over; a broken writing utensil with its missing erasure and a card with her term marks on them. Like everything the small child had ever owned, the book and bag had come second hand from her older cousin, who wasn't well known for taking good care of any of his possessions. The small girl gripped the bag even tighter against herself, as if it was a shield protecting her from what she feared to come as she stood just beyond the brick pathway leading to her uncle's house.
At the start of the term, the scared little child had been excited to attend school. It was the first time she had learned that she had a real name although it took her some time to respond to it. Her relatives had only addressed her as "girl", so it took some getting used to being addressed as something else. The little girl had been the type of student who would happily answer any questions the instructor would ask the students. Whether the question was a problem written on the blackboard or from the workbook, it did not matter to the girl. She loved to learn and absorbed every lesson the instructor taught. As the first term was nearing its long awaited winter holidays, cards were sent home to parents and guardians with the remarks and comments from the instructors about the quality of each child's education.
Vernon Dursley had not be happy to say the least, as his son had come home with below average marks. He had often reassured the school that Dudley was a slow learner. All the boy really need was for the instructor to have a tad more patience and to be engaged more so he could let his brilliance become more apparent. Truthfully, it could not have been further from the truth about the portly boy, but several school officials had seen to it that the school took the extra steps to help the boy along. All it had taken was a sizable donation from the Dursley's.
If Vernon Dursley had been displeased with his son's low marks, he was right infuriated with the marks of the pitiful girl he had contempt for. She was near the top of her class in all subjects instructed and the instructor had nothing but good remarks to make about her. In fact, there was praise to be given for the eagerness the child showed for learning that most children didn't quite express. This only served to enrage Vernon further.
The small girl was forced into her cupboard beneath the stairs for the entirety of the winter holiday. She was only allowed a moment of freedom for a timed venture to the loo which was granted to her once daily. Besides those trips, she had been tasked with preparing the annual Christmas Feast for the Dursley's and Vernon's obese sister Marjorie 'Marge' Dursley. All throughout that evening, the girl was subjected to insult and derision by the alcoholic spinster. In the end, the small girl had received but one gift during that winter holiday. Her gift had been two separate lessons learned unlike the ones her Uncle normally taught her. The first lesson learned by both her uncle and her, was that Vernon Dursley's thin leather belt with lots of holes worked the best. The second lesson was to never stand out or outperform Dudley Dursley.
From then on, the small girl learned to keep her head down. She was to be seen and not heard from unless spoken too. Whenever she was told not to be a nuisance of any kind, she kept her head down and focused only on the floor or her own trainers.
Slowly, the girl's marks began to suffer as she answered questions less frequently and then not at all. She stopped participating in class and only turned in a handful of her assignments. More often than not, the work on the assignments was sub-par. Plenty of letters were sent to the Dursley's, but like many other issues involving the girl, the watchful eyes of school officials were turned away. Vernon Dursley had simply convinced those in charge that the child's good marks could only have been the result of cheating and other dishonest means. The girl was touched in the head and incapable of actually performing so well by herself without undue help. After the termination of employment of one instructor and the suspension of another, no other staff member was willing to risk offering the small girl any help at all and she was left to her own devices.
When the girl in glasses looked back up from the table, she found the entire Great Hall to be packed with students sitting at their respective tables. No one sat directly next to or across from her. In fact, most students had seemingly ignored that she was even there as they were busy in their own conversations with friends and housemates. Holly looked around, finally beginning to grasp at the magnitude of students that surrounded her. She quickly lost count and felt astounded that there were so many Witches and Wizards around her age. After several seconds, she momentarily caught the eyes of one of the professors at the front most table. She wasn't especially sure of the professor's name though she was sure she had been told the previous night. Just as quickly, she shifted her focus elsewhere towards the Great Hall itself and the high ceiling above her.
Had it not been for Professor McGonagall, many of the other professors sitting at the long mahogany table at the end of the hall may have not noticed the small girl sitting by herself. They may have gone on to eat their respective breakfast and merely let their attention drift over the girl before it was ushered away by the same slight feelings of compulsion that bothered the Deputy Headmistress earlier. As the elderly Witch was discussing her thoughts with Filius Flitwick, the Headmaster had arrived and taken his own seat before enjoying the very same breakfast he had every morning during his tenure. He seemed absent in thought although he kept a watchful eye of the children before him.
McGonagall had taken this opportunity to attempt at addressing her concern with the Headmaster before he simply waved it away. It was perhaps not a discussion best had at such an inopportune time. Instead, the headmaster urged his Deputy Headmistress to enjoy the remains of her meal before she would need to start handing out the class schedule to her house. The elderly Witch planned to speak to the Headmaster when the opportunity would present itself again but took heed of his suggestion as it was indeed nearing the time for classes to begin.
It was becoming a daunting task each year as more and more students were attending "Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry" than years previous. After the end of the "War" as it had come to be referred to as, there had been an exponential boom in the number of magical children conceived. Even when considered the alarming increase of "Muggle-born" children each year, it was evident that the "War" had an effect on both worlds in unforeseen ways. It really was of no help though, that there seem to always be some war or another in the non-magical world as well.
Soon, the Transfiguration Professor had managed to pass out each student their appropriate class schedule along with the heads of other houses. Many of the new students that managed to eat something were quick to scurry off in an effort to collect their books before searching for their morning classes.
The girl in glasses was not one of them. Although she had left moments after receiving her schedule from the diminutive "Head of House", she was not in any rush to locate her class. As Holly returned to the Ravenclaw Tower, she had looked over her schedule. It was drawn in a confusing box with smaller boxers spiraling inwards. Each smaller box listen the class name; the time in which it was taught; and the professor in-charge of instructing the class. After a few moments, she had managed to understand the weird way the schedule was drawn as it was meant to be a puzzle of sorts.
Holly Potter made her way up to the Brass Eagle and it's knocker, the entrance to the spiral staircase that led up to the Ravenclaw Common Room. She firmly grasped the brass ring that was held between talons and gave a firm known. The Brass Eagle peered down at the little girl and recited a riddle. It expected and awaited an answer. Normally, the Brass Eagle would pick a challenging riddle for each individual student, meant as a teaching tool to brighten the mind and make the student think. It was an ingenious charm performed by the "Charms Master" Filius Flitwick.
"Two children are born at the same time on the same day. Yet, one child is older while the other is younger, why?"
"The two children, were they born in different places?" The small girl in glasses questioned. She was unsure of how to answer the riddle and was only trying to ask for more information. To her complete surprise, the Brass Eagle seemed to smile before an audible click filled the empty corridor. The heavy door started to swing inward, revealing the first few steps of the spiral staircase. The small girl was left with questions as she stood there. Had she answered the riddle with her question? What about the Brass Eagle, it couldn't smile, could it? Did birds normally smile? She had never seen a bird smile before, but maybe that was something they could do in the magical world.
Holly Potter climbed the spiral staircase up to the empty Ravenclaw tower. It was an eerie silence that was only broken by the crackle of the hearth that filled the small girl as she caught her breath before making her way into the shared dorm room. She found her textbooks lining the top of the bureau next to her bed. Filling her bag with parchment ink and quills, she reached out for her textbooks. Truth be told, the girl probably didn't need the textbooks, as she had already memorized them nearly word for word, but the heavy weight in her arms was a comfort. It reaffirmed that the books were truly hers and belonged to no one else. She set the books carefully into bag at her hip as her attention was caught by the small window on the opposite side of the bed. Beyond the glass panes was the beautiful deep blue and early morning colors that filled the sky.
She had thoughts about her relatives and their home. She thought about how a part of her missed them. They were the only family she had ever known and she loved them. She missed her small room in the cupboard under the stairs and her various chores she would be busy doing before she was due to leave for school each day. If she hadn't been taken away by Rubeus Hagrid, she would be attending "St. Dymphna's Secondary School for the Troubled Mind". She would have been forced to endure her uncles many lessons and the games her cousin enjoyed playing. Her thoughts started to turn dark, and her chest tightened as she found it difficult to breathe once again. She knew it would pass if she just kept counting till ten, and she tried her best to force herself to calm down as she tried to breathe in and out. It was the idea that it might not pass that always prolonged her recovery each time, as she worried that she might not be able to breathe and her heart would explode from her chest.
After a few minutes, the girl in the glasses left the shared room and then the common room. She had passed the lovely bushy haired girl from before and nearly lost her footing down the stairs. For a few seconds, she had forgotten that Hermione had been sorted into Ravenclaw as well. At least, that is what she wanted herself to believe anyways. Holly had really wanted to talk to her, but it had felt as if she was being ignored. What had she said or done to upset the beautiful girl? She had seemed really nice at the bookstore and helped Holly find all of her books. She had also pointed out all the books that were written about Holly as well. She felt that singular spark of anger deep from inside of her stomach and her chest tightened once more. Instead of saying anything, she walked right past the brunette and down the spiral staircase.
Hermione Granger had returned to the Ravenclaw Tower almost immediately after Professor Flitwick had handed her the class schedule. She had been chewing on a slice of toasted bread with blueberry jam when she had finally managed to spot the girl in glasses leaving the Great Hall. Why hadn't Hermione seen her earlier? She had tried her best to be one of the first new Ravenclaw to reach the table in the Great Hall, and she had intended to invite the girl to sit with her so they could talk to each other. She had watched the doors as the Great Hall filled, and the girl had never shown up. It wasn't until the head of their house began to pass out class schedules that she had finally spotted the girl.
She had rushed after Holly the best she could, but by the time she reached the Brass Eagle and the knocker held in its talons, the girl was asking it a question. Hermione had thought that it was peculiar to say the least. The Brass Eagle offered a riddle, but the girl only responded with a single question. It had been enough to open the way up into the tower though. Hermione had been forced to answer her own riddle, which had been quite easy if she was to be honest about it. Yet, by the time she had managed to climb halfway up the spiral staircase, Holly was already walking back down. Their eyes locked for a split second and Hermione could swear she witnessed something just beyond the girl's small glasses and bright green eyes but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. She had wanted to talk to Holly, to ask her all sorts of questions and to apologize for being rude at the bookstore when she found out who the girl was. When she had meant to apologize on the train, Holly hadn't seem interested in speaking to her and she had already been asked to help that lumpy boy find his missing pet. Maybe they would have the chance to speak in one of their classes? There had to be other opportunities and places that she could talk to the girl, right? Maybe at lunch.
A/N: Well, Chapter 7! Woot. It only took me a little more than a month and a half to write it. Life has been hectic as can be and it's about to get more so with another college term on the horizon. No worries. I know this chapter might seem like filler, but I promise it's not. It gives clues and insight into the character's development. A few plot hooks and the start of a herring or two to keep you all guessing. Let me know what you think. Read & Review!
A/N 2: Still looking for a Dedicated Beta.
