****DISCLAIMER****
What's This? Two updates in one year? I'm really spoiling you guys.
Once again, I own nothing.
****DISCLAIMER****
Chapter 8
"Storybooks, Riddles and Legends"
Once the bossy girl finally left, Rebeca, Harry and Ron pulled on their school robes. Bossy had been right, the train was indeed slowing down. A voice through the loudspeaker announced they would be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes. Five minutes. Rebeca began to take deep steadying breaths. In five minutes she would be at her new school with her new friends and her new life would officially begin. She, Harry and Ron stuffed the remaining sweets into the deep pockets of their robes and the three of them headed out into the corridor where the other students were beginning to throng.
When the train finally slowed to a stop, the three of them pushed their way onto a small dark platform. A sign overhead told them they were at Hogsmeade Station.
Rebeca was confused. Weren't they supposed to be at Hogwarts? She was just about to ask Ron when she heard a great, booming voice calling out: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" It was the giant that had been with Harry in Diagon Alley. He was holding up a large lantern and beaming down at them from his immense height. He was much larger up close. "All right there, Harry?" The giant said jovially as he caught sight of him. Rebeca could tell that Harry was pleased to see a friendly face, even though most of the other first years seemed terrified that they would get squashed. Once the giant was satisfied that he had gathered up everyone he needed to, he lead them down a steep narrow path. It was so dark on either side that Rebeca couldn't tell whether they were surrounded by trees, or buildings or simply vast amounts of black.
None of the first years felt very much like talking as they followed the giant blindly through the darkness, not even Miss Bossy Britches. Rebeca herself was focusing on not losing sight of the lantern hanging from the giants massive hand, which was the only source of light to keep the darkness, looming on all sides, at bay.
Just as she was starting to wonder if they would be walking all the way to Hogwarts, the giant called out: "Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec, jus' round this bend here.'
And, sure enough, the pathway opened up onto the edge of a large, black lake.
There was a collective 'Oooooh!" from the group.
There, in the distance, on the far edge of the lake, situated on top of a large mountain, was a castle. A grand, glorious castle with towers and turrets; the golden lights from its many glowing windows, shining beckoningly in the darkness, casting glimmering reflections on the surface of the lake. It was like something out of a dream.
"No more'n five to a boat!"
Boat? Rebeca looked around and her soaring heart sank. The giant was pointing at nine little wooden boats stationed at the edge of the lake. They were going to have to cross it. Rebeca would rather they walk.
As she followed Harry and Ron into a boat she could feel her heart racing inside her chest.
Why did they have to cross the lake? This couldn't bee the only way to get to the castle. What if something happened? What if the boat sprang a leak? The lake looked wide, and unfathomably deep. And Rebeca couldn't swim for the life of her. When she had been much younger someone had pushed her into a public swimming pool and she had almost drowned. It had been one of the most traumatic experiences in her life, and she had no wish to experience it ever again.
The bossy girl and the crying boy got in after them. No one else seemed remotely nervous about crossing the lake. Rebeca took a shaky breath. If no one else looked afraid, than neither would she. She mustn't be the odd one out here. She mustn't let Harry think that she was weak.
Rebeca clenched the side of the boat as they all launched forward and the little fleet began to sail. Rebeca dared not look at the deep dark water beneath her. She tried her best not to focus on the boat rocking back and forth or the sound of the water lapping against its sides. Instead she kept her eyes and thoughts fixated on the castle. The Castle that looked as if it was right out of a storybook, full of wonder, and magic and happy endings, that was getting larger and more extravagant and more undeniably real as the little boats glided nearer and nearer to the cliff. To Rebeca, it seemed like a lifetime before the boats glided through a curtain of ivy into an opening on the cliff face. They were now in an underground tunnel that seemed to be leading underneath the castle. Rebeca shut her eyes, every fiber of her being focusing on the few inches of solid wood separating her from the dark waters below.
Finally, the tunnel opened up into a kind of underground harbor and Rebeca heard the welcome crunch of the boats making contact with the rocky shore.
Rebeca got shakily to her feet. There. That hadn't been so bad. True, she hadn't really breathed properly throughout the whole ordeal, but nothing bad had happened. She had crossed the lake unscathed.
Just as she was about to clamber out of the boat after Harry and Ron, Rebeca felt something brush against her leg. Startled, she looked down, and there, sitting on her foot, was a fat ugly toad.
Oh, come on…
"Er... Hey," She said to the crying boy, gingerly picking up the thing and holding it out to him, "This yours?"
The boy's sullen and tear sodden face lit up immediately.
"Trevor!" he cried, reaching out and grabbing the thing. Tears began to well up in his eyes again as he clutched the struggling thing to his breast. "Thank you!" he sobbed at Rebeca, "Thank you so much"
Rebeca wished she had left the damn thing in the boat.
"Don't mention it" she muttered, and hurried to catch up with Harry and Ron.
The giant lead them all up a passage way in the rock. Personally, Rebeca thought that with all the walking and the boats, this was all together not her favorite way to travel.
Finally the giant lead them onto a grassy field and there it was: looming magnificently in front of them. Hogwarts. They followed the Giant up the stone steps and stopped in front of the huge wood doors.
The giant looked back at them all.
"Everyone here?" Rebeca thought that he probably should have asked that question earlier on, as opposed to at the very end of the journey.
The Giant raised his enormous fist and knocked three times. Almost immediately a tall, sharp looking woman with square-rimmed spectacles opened the doors.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall" said the giant proudly.
"Thank you, Hagrid." said Professor McGonagall briskly. She struck Rebeca as the kind of person who did everything as efficiently as possible. "I'll take them from here"
She led them through the doors into the entrance hall, which was vast, with high, stone, torch lit walls, and an enormous marble staircase that lead to the upper floors. The first years were ushered into a small room off the hall. They crowded together and looked trepidatiously up at the stern and unwelcoming face of Professor McGonagall.
"Welcome to Hogwarts." she said, again with the same brisk, no-nonsense tone. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the great Hall, you will be sorted into you're houses."
They had talked about houses on the train. Rebeca didn't really know much about it, but it seemed that the general consensus was that Gryffindor house was the most desirable, and that Slytherin was to be avoided.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school." Concluded the brisk McGonagall. "I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." And with that she left the room.
Rebeca looked at Harry and Ron.
"How do they sort us into houses?" she asked.
"Some sort of test, I think" shrugged Ron. "Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."
Harry looked almost as alarmed as she felt.
A test? What kind of test? She wished that she had studied her schoolbooks more carefully.
Rebeca looked around at the other students and was relieved to see that this time she wasn't the only one who seemed apprehensive. Even Bossy was chattering nervously away to no one in particular. The crying boy looked as though he was going to start up again,
Rebeca didn't blame him this time.
How on earth did they expect her to perform a test? What was she expected to do? And what, oh God, what would happen to her if she failed? Would she be sent away? She didn't think she could take it. Not now. Not after seeing the castle. She never wanted to cross that lake again.
She reached into one of the deep pockets of her robes and wrapped her hand around her wand. How was she supposed to perform magic with this stick? This lifeless piece of wood?
Suddenly, Rebeca heard several kids scream. She whipped around and her mouth fell open.
There, floating in midair, about ten feet above them, materializing from the back wall were about twenty pearly-white, translucent figures.
Ghosts.
They glided overhead; seemingly unaware of the mass of children huddled below. After a few moments, a ghost wearing a large ruff suddenly noticed them.
"I say, what are you all doing here?" he said breaking off from his conversation with a portly monk and staring down at them all.
None of the first years answered him.
Rebeca's mind was reeling. They were ghosts. Real ghosts. Dead people were talking to her.
"New students!" smiled the monk. "About to be Sorted, I suppose? Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."
"Come along now" Rebeca hadn't noticed that Professor McGonagall had returned, but there she was, standing on the now open doorway leading into the Entrance Hall. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
Rebeca felt her stomach lurch. The sudden appearance of the ghosts and the idea of life after death had driven the impending test out of her mind. But it was back now in full force. She watched as the ghosts glided through the wall overhead as she lined up behind Harry and Ron and filed out behind Professor McGonagall and into the Great Hall.
It was magnificent. The hall was lit with hundreds of candles, floating on their own in mid-air. The flickering light was reflected in the golden plates and goblets that adorned the four long wooden tables that ran the length of the hall, which made the entire place seem as if it was glittering. And students. Hundreds of students dressed all in black were sitting along the tables. A mass of faces staring at the trail of new students being led by Professor McGonagall.
She stopped them in front of the long head table where the teachers sat. They looked down at the nervous first years, some smiling encouragingly, others staring blankly. And there in the middle of the table, seated in a high-backed ornate chair was Professor Dumbledore. He caught Rebeca's eye and gave her a small smile. Rebeca tried to smile back but wasn't sure if she had managed it.
Behind her she heard Bossy saying: "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
Rebeca looked up and her mouth fell open. Had she not heard Bossy, she would have assumed that the Great Hall had no ceiling at all and merely opened up to the heavens. For where a ceiling should have been was only sky. Velvety black and covered with more stars than Rebeca could have believed possible.
Rebeca tore her eyes away from the enchanted ceiling in time to see Professor McGonagall place a dirty, old, pointed hat on a stool. The Great Hall grew quiet as every eye stared intently at the hat. Rebeca could not fathom why. It was nothing special. It was less than nothing special. It was tattered and torn with patches ant rips all over it. What did this old and ragged hat have to do with anything? Was it part of the test? Maybe they had to repair it or something. But soon Rebeca stopped wondering. The hat began to twitch, a rip near the brim opened wide and to Rebeca's utter amazement the hat started to sing:
"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge by what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me."
Rebeca supposed she might have to alter her entire worldview in order to get used to life in the wizarding world. For here it seemed that things normally deemed dull and ordinary actually contained magic and wonder. Here she was, standing beneath an enchanted ceiling listening to a singing hat. And school hadn't even officially started yet.
As the singing hat began to detail how the first years would get sorted, Rebeca felt a huge swell of relief. They didn't have to do anything. Just put on the hat. But as the hat finished its song, the dread began to slowly seep back in. What if the hat put her in the wrong house? She didn't actually care which house she was in; she just wanted to be in the same house as Harry. She had found a friend in him and she didn't think they would see much of each other unless they ended up in the same house.
She applauded along with the rest of the school as the hat finished it's performance and bowed, but her mind was racing. She had to end up in the same house as Harry. If Harry got sorted first than all she had to do was follow him. But if she went first ... They had talked about houses on the train. Had Harry said anything about where he thought he'd end up? No. Not really. Ron had mentioned Gryffindor; all his family were in Gryffindor 'Where dwell the brave at heart.' That seemed like a possibility.
Professor McGonagall had stepped forward with a length of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She looked at the scroll and called out "Abbot, Hannah!"
A blond girl with pigtails stepped forward.
They were going alphabetically by surname. Rebeca Barlow would be one of the first sorted. Long before they got to Harry Potter.
What else? Slytherin seemed to be a bad bet. Poncy wanted to be in Slytherin. Harry wouldn't be sorted there.
The hat was on Abbot's head for only a moment before the hat shouted: "Hufflepuff!"
The table on the right erupted in applause as Abbot hopped off the stool.
Rebeca didn't know much about the other two houses, except that the Bossy girl would like to be in Ravenclaw. She supposed the best bet was Gryffindor, but they were still on the 'A's. She still had a bit more time to think before they got to her.
"Barlow, Rebeca!"
Damn it.
Harry looked over at Rebeca and gave her an encouraging smile, which she could not manage to return. She had to make a decision. Now.
She walked shakily towards the stool. Gryffindor. That was her best bet. Harry would probably get sorted into Gryffindor, so that's where she would go too. She felt another cold lurch in her stomach as a horrible thought struck her. Harry might be a Gryffindor but was she? Rebeca had never considered herself particularly brave. Quite the contrary; She might be able to hold her own in a fight, but she had a bad habit of freezing when things got real… She couldn't even stand up to Poncy. How could she ever be considered brave enough to be a Gryffindor? What if the hat realized this and put her in a different house? What if it put her in Slytherin?! What if Harry refused to talk to her and she had only Poncy for company. She couldn't stand that. She needed to be with Harry. She needed to convince the hat to put her in Gryffindor. But how could she trick the hat into thinking that she was brave when she couldn't even convince herself?
All these horrible thoughts and more were swarming through Rebeca's head as she reached the hat. She picked it up with trembling hands and sat down on the stool. As she placed the hat on her head she caught Harry's eye. She saw him give her another encouraging smile before the brim fell over her eyes an she saw nothing but the dark insides of the hat.
She felt her heart beating in her throat, waiting for something, anything, to happen.
Then she herd a soft singsong voice inside her head,
"Interesting. Hmm, yes, very interesting, you are a tricky one, aren't you?
'Am I?' she thought.
"Oh yes" said the hat. Rebeca started. It could hear her thoughts.
"Oh, and what thoughts." Said the hat. "You will be a challenge, my dear. There's a definite loyalty. And bravery; no doubt about that. Not a bad mind either. Oh but that determination; that unyielding determination. I can't ignore that. And cunning too. Oh yes."
Cunning. The hat had used that word in the song. In the bit about Slytherin. The hat wanted to put her in Slytherin! Rebeca closed her eyes under the hat and pictured Harry.
'No,' she thought, as hard as she could. 'No. Not Slytherin. Gryffindor. Not Slytherin. Gryffindor, please, Gryffindor.'
"Oohh" Said the hat, gleefully. "I see... Loyal to the very end."
'Not Hufflepuff.' Rebeca thought, remembering the song 'Not Slytherin. Gryffindor.'
The hat chuckled from inside her head. "And there's the cunning determination. You are steeped with it. But bravery is a close second. Very well... Gryffindor!" The hat shouted the last word for the whole of the great hall to hear. There was an eruption of applause. And relief filled Rebeca.
'Thank you' she thought before taking the hat off, placing it on the stool and taking her place at the Gryffindor table.
"First Gryffindor of the year!' Said George Weasley, smiling dreamily over at her from across the table "Congratulations!"
"I knew you looked all right!" piped up his twin.
Rebeca smiled weakly and looked back at the other first years, as Bones became a Hufflepuff and Boot was called to put on the hat.
She had done it. She was in Gryffindor.
Even if the hat had wanted to put her in Slytherin, it didn't matter. She had been deemed brave enough. She was a Gryffindor, and soon Harry and Ron would be joining her. When a blond girl, Lavender Brown, became the next new Gryffindor, Rebeca clapped and cheered along with everyone else.
As Professor McGonagall got further and further down the list, and the hat called out house after house, Rebeca began to get nervous again.
What if Harry wasn't sorted into Gryffindor after all? What if he was sorted into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff? Or worse, Slytherin? She was starting to think she had been too hasty with her decision with regard to where everyone would be sorted. Hermione Granger had been sorted into Gryffindor. And, to her utter shock, so had Neville the crying boy. Rebecca would not have predicted that in a million years. If she had been wrong about that, maybe she had been wrong about Harry. Was she to be stuck in Gryffindor with Bossy-The-Cow and Whimpers McSniffles while Harry made friends in some other house and forgot about her?
Professor McGonagall had reached the 'P's and Rebeca's stomach was twisting uncomfortably again. She could see Harry was very nervous as well. He looked very peaky.
Rebeca clapped half-heartedly as one out of a set of twin girls joined the Gryffindors and looked in dismay at her sister sitting at the next table over.
Finally it was Harry's turn. As he stepped forward there were whispers from all around the hall. People were staring intently at him. Some even stood up to get a better look. But no one watched as intently as Rebeca. She tried to catch his eye before he put the hat on, to return the favor of an encouraging smile, But Harry's eyes never met any ones before he sat down and put on the hat.
The hall was dead silent as Harry sat in the stool, his glasses covered by the hat.
Finally the hat opened up its brim and shouted out: "Gryffindor!"
A tumultuous roar of applause and cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table.
George and Fred were jumping up and down as Harry, beaming and quivering with relief, made his way over to the Gryffindor table and sat down beside Rebeca who was just as relieved as he was. They were in the same house!
The rest of the Gryffindors eventually calmed down and Professor McGonagall continued on with the sorting.
Harry leaned over to Rebeca and whispered:
"I don't think I've ever been so nervous in my life."
"Me neither" whispered Rebeca, truthfully. "But at least it's over now."
"Almost, we just have to wait for Ron."
Rebeca wasn't really too worried about Ron, and the rest of the Sorting seemed to fly by (partially because most of the first years had already been sorted) until a very pale looking Ron was called to the Hat and was sorted into Gryffindor almost immediately. Rebeca and Harry clapped loudly with the rest of the Gryffindors as Ron took a seat beside Harry.
"Well done, Ron, excellent," said a tall, red haired, bespectacled boy, Rebeca assumed was another of Ron's brothers. Ron smiled weakly as Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll, and carried the hat and its stool out of the hall.
Dumbledore got to his feet, his arms stretched open, smiling pleasantly down at all of them.
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!
"Thank you!"
Dumbledore sat down again as everyone cheered and clapped. Rebeca's first impression of the Headmaster had been right after all. He was completely mad.
But before she could give it another thought, her mouth fell open once again. Food. Mountains and mountains of delicious-smelling, mouth watering food had appeared out of nowhere and was now covering the full length of the table. She had never seen so much food in her entire life. There was a roast chicken sitting in front of her that would have fed the entire gang for a solid week.
As Rebeca sat staring at the piles of food in front of her, she realized for the first time in years just how starving she actually was. She had become so used to not having enough to eat that her perpetual state of hunger went completely unnoticed by her. But now with all this food presented to her, her stomach let out a loud and painful growl.
She quickly loaded a bit of everything she could reach onto her golden plate and began to eat. It was all she could do to stop herself shoveling everything into her mouth with her bare hands. But she forced herself to eat slowly. She didn't want anyone to guess just how hungry she was. However Ron, whom Rebeca doubted had ever wanted for nourishment, was not so tactful.
The ghost with the ruff was sitting across from Rebeca, Harry and Ron and was looking wistfully at the food.
"That does look good," he said sadly.
"Can't you –?"
"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years. I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."
The whole sorting ordeal had driven the ghosts out of Rebeca's mind, but now that her fear was gone her curiosity was back. She was about to ask Sir Nicholas a question when Ron blurted out: "I know who you are! My brother's told me about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!"
The Ghost gave him a withering glare.
"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy –"
"Nearly Headless?" Interrupted a sandy-haired boy. "How can you be nearly headless?"
The Ghost looked extremely annoyed.
"Like this," He said, irritably, and pulled on his left ear. His head swung off his neck like a hinge and fell onto his shoulder.
The aptly named Nearly Headless Nick looked satisfactorily at the stunned looking first years, and replaced his head back upon his ruff.
He didn't seem quite as keen on talking after that point so Rebeca decide to hold off her questions until later.
Soon, Rebeca was looking down at her empty plate; full up for the first time she could remember. Or so she thought until the puddings appeared, then she discovered she could make room for much more.
As she sat there, happily eating cake, she listened to the conversations around her. Neville Longbottom was telling the other first years a boring story about his own inadequacy. The bossy Hermione Granger was monopolizing the attention of the bespectacled Weasley brother with questions about classes; a conversation Rebeca might have found interesting if held by any one else. George and Fred were talking and joking noisily across the table. Rebeca was just working up the courage to talk to them when Harry suddenly let out a cry, clutching his hand to his head.
"What is it?" she asked.
"N-nothing." Said Harry, lowering his hand and glancing nervously at the High Table.
Rebeca looked over as well, trying to see if there was anything amiss, but all she saw were teachers engrossed in conversation. She looked back at Harry but he was talking to the bespectacled Weasley. He seemed fine, albeit a little less carefree, but overall alright. She wondered what had caused him to cry out like that, and why he had said it was nothing when it was obviously not. Just another riddle about her new friend that she had to figure out.
After the remains of the pudding had vanished and Dumbledore had made some announcements and led the students in the School Song (which was a ridiculous exercise Rebeca hoped never to repeat) Everyone was excused and the new Gryffindors followed the bespectacled Weasley brother out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase towards the Gryffindor dormitories.
Rebeca was very full and very sleepy. She tried to pay attention to the wonders of the castle as they were led up staircase after staircase but after a while she just wanted to sleep. She would take it all in tomorrow.
After many flights of stairs and an incident with floating walking sticks, they reached a portrait of a very fat lady in a very pink dress.
"Password?" she said.
If Rebeca had been more awake she would have been shocked that paintings could talk, but in her current state and after everything that had happened that day, she barely noticed.
The portrait swung forward, and they all clambered through a hole in the wall behind it. The Gryffindor common room was very cozy and warm, full of scarlet armchairs and a bright, roaring fireplace.
"All right then," said the Weasley brother after everyone was inside. "Breakfast will be served tomorrow morning downstairs in the Great Hall, where you will receive your class schedules." He pointed at a door at one end of the common room. "Girls, your dormitory is up the stairs through that door, and boys," He pointed to another door "Through that door. Good night, and make sure you don't over sleep. You don't want to be late on your first day of classes."
"Good night," said Harry waving sleepily at Rebeca.
"See you at breakfast," yawned Ron.
"'Night" said Rebeca helplessly, as she watched her two friends disappear into the boy's dormitory.
Rebeca climbed up the spiral staircase behind the other girls. Even in her drowsy state she felt a little nervous. It should have occurred to her that the boys and girls would be sleeping in separate rooms. And, really it wasn't that big a deal, she would still be spending most of her time with Harry and Ron. She would just be without them at night. But still… After all that stress and worry, she was still entering a strange place with no friends. The only girl she had spoken to was Granger, and Rebeca already knew that they would not get along very well.
At the top of the staircase, the five girls finally reached a door with a sign that read 'First Years'. Lavender Brown pushed open the door and they all entered their room. There were five four-poster beds hung with scarlet curtains. Rebeca noticed that all their belongings had been brought up and that each of their trunks had been placed at the foot of the beds. Rebeca's grubby old trunk assigned her to the bed to the right of the door.
As the other girls chatted cheerily away to one another, Rebeca changed silently into her pyjamas staring at the bed. Her bed. It had been years since she had slept on anything but floor. And now she had a soft warm bed all to herself.
Rebeca suddenly felt very wary. Life at Hogwarts seemed to be great. It was warm, there was food and beds and actual doors and windows instead of tarps. What if she couldn't go back?
She knew she couldn't stay at Hogwarts all year round. If she grew accustomed to food and beds, when she had to leave, she might not be able to go back to hunger and floor.
Despite her sleepiness, she sat down on her trunk, rather than the bed. She was convinced that once she lay down she would never be able to get back up again.
"Hey, Rebeca, right?" said Lavender Brown.
"Yeah," said Rebeca, surprised she was being spoken to.
"Weren't you talking to Harry Potter?" asked Lavender.
"Er," said Rebeca fully aware that all eyes were now on her. "Yes."
"What's he like?" asked Lavender, hungrily.
"He's alright," said Rebeca, uncomfortably.
"God, he's gorgeous!" said Lavender. "I didn't think he'd be so cute!"
"Isn't it weird that he's in our year?" giggled the Patil twin, Parvati.
"What happened, exactly?" asked Leine Rivers, looking kind of embarrassed. "My parents would never tell me the whole story. They said it was too horrible."
"What happened?! He only defeated the most evil wizard of all time!" said Parvati, exasperatedly.
"Oh, I know that," said Leine, hurriedly. "I know why he's famous. I just mean… What happened?"
"Well," said Granger, jumping at the chance to show off her knowledge, "about ten years ago, when he was at the height of his power, You-Know-Who killed Lily and James Potter."
"So after he kills the Potters he tries to go for Harry, right?" Interrupted Lavender, "But it didn't work! The spell back-fired and You-Know-Who died instead!"
"How?"
"No one knows," said Parvati, "That's why he's so famous. No one's ever survived the killing curse, and Harry Potter was only a baby."
"And that scar on his forehead? That's where the curse hit him." said Lavender.
"Wow" said Leine.
The girls stopped talking after that and started getting into their beds. Rebeca stood up absentmindedly, her sleepy brain slowly working to process this new information.
So, that was the story. That's why Harry was famous. He was famous for not dying. It didn't seem like that big of a deal to Rebeca. It had to be annoying though, everyone knowing his business. Turning his loss into legend. She was glad that she had found out though. Now she wouldn't feel out of the loop about her friend.
It did not matter to Rebeca one bit, what had happened to Harry that night, nor did she care that he was famous for it. All she cared was that she had found him.
And it was comforting to know that her new friend could escape death.
She crawled absentmindedly into bed. She only had a moment to realize what she was doing, before her head hit the pillow, and she was asleep.
