((A/N: Hi all. I think I'm gonna do this chapter from Rhiannon's
perspective, due to requests for her thoughts. And since you can't hear her
thoughts when it's Harry's POV, I'll have to switch it. So yes. Rhiannon's
POV *gets in Rhiannon mood* Okay! Ready! *muses hide* Ha! You call
yourselves muses! Bah! ^ ^;;;;; Okay anyways. Oh yes! Review! It makes my
day! Okay now you can read.))
After breakfast, Harry helped me up and we left the Hall. I had to stop outside the great double doors to catch my breath, and Harry waited for me patiently. Taking the chance, I looked around me at the Entrance Hall with curiosity. It was huge, with a high-vaulted ceiling and large stained-glass windows through which the bright morning light shone in, showing the trailing paths of dust motes up high above us. Old suits of armor lined the walls at intervals; their long halberds gleamed dully with a faded quality that hinted of a lustrous shine many years before. The huge double doors at the end of the hall towered above us, ancient and inlaid with many marks, some sigils and runes that, to my eyes, seemed to flicker slightly when I looked at them from my peripheral vision. The other markings were carved initials and little hearts, drawn near the bottom hinges.
I realized that I'd been taking a little too long and straightened, flashing a smile at Harry. He grinned back and we left the large Entrance Hall, slipping outside into the bright sunlight. I squinted slightly and we moved toward the lake. Several other students were scattered around the water's edge, sitting on blankets and reading, talking, or playing games. Harry led me to a group playing the latter and we sat down with them. After quick introductions and inquisitive glances, the other students returned to the game, bantering and exchanging tips as they moved the pieces around the board. I watched from the side, taking note of the strategies each player used, and observed the players' faces, noticing little nuances in their expressions that aided me in guessing their next moves. Most of the time, I was right.
After a while, I sensed someone watching me intently. I turned my head slightly to the right and slid my eyes in that direction, trying to find the person without obviously doing so. As I'd suspected, it was Harry. His keen green ((A/N: hey I rhyme!)) eyes were fixed on my face, the large black wire-rimmed glasses softened their gaze, but I could tell that he was studying me as carefully as I'd studied the other students just moments before. The hair on the back of my neck prickled and I felt distinctly uncomfortable, shifting uneasily. He seemed to notice my discomfort and he smiled at me sweetly. The innocence in his gaze was almost shocking; he didn't seem to suspect anything about me. But then again, I had been trained to utter subtlety, and, according to my Master, Harry Potter was not the brightest crayon in the box. In my rebellious way, I was starting to suspect that my Master had lied, and that Harry wasn't as guileless as he appeared. And yet, in my worshipful manner in regard to same Master, I believed that this deceit on Voldemort's part was only another test.
So, I simply smiled back and turned my attention back to the game. One boy, named Colin Creevey, was losing painfully, and I smirked slightly, to see his disappointment ((A/N: Goodness, she's terrible! No just kidding! Don't hate her!)). But the girl.her name was Hermione, Harry had said. She was pretty in a slightly more subtle way, with long brown hair, that was (although thick) very shiny and smooth, and large brown eyes. Those eyes, they were obviously intelligent, and it surprised me. This was one who might find me out, if I wasn't careful; and the way she talked to Harry, she was obviously a good friend of his, and cared about him quite a lot. I filed all this away in my mind for future reference, and observed some more.
* * * *
Later in the day, Harry showed me around the rest of the grounds. He was only greeted by members of three Houses, I noticed, but not the fourth. Their colors, green and silver, reminded me of my Master, and I saw the hatred glimmering in their eyes as Harry passed. I asked about the four Houses and Harry told me about the Founders of Hogwarts and Gryffindor (he said the name with a certain pride that told me that he belonged to that House), Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. The last name was almost spat out like a curse, and I decided that it was the Slytherins who hated Harry. From what I heard of both Houses, there was a rivalry between the two, and both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tended to support Gryffindor. The fact that there was such a level of complexity to the school was surprising to me; my Master had spoken of the place as if it was a place for simpletons and evil. Now, it seemed, I was seeing otherwise.
As we entered the library, I couldn't hide the smile that I felt spread across my face. Glancing at me, Harry grinned back, "You like it?"
I laughed quietly, "I love it. There are so many books." I turned in a slow circle, inhaling the smell of old and new books. This was where I belonged, among lofty piles of tomes, reading, organizing, and cataloguing. I'd always loved the libraries in the non-magical part of England, but this was different. In a small, removed corner, there was a sign that read, 'Muggle Books'. From what I'd heard the other students discussing, Muggle meant non- magical person. I recognized some books in that section, but my attention was soon drawn to the rest of the huge annals. The (gargantuan) remainder of the library was full of magical books. They were divided into sections, like Divination, Transfiguration, Charms, Wizarding History, Potions, Defense Against The Dark Arts and the like.
The latter section drew my attention; from the few magical books I'd read, it seemed to me that I'd been learning quite a few advanced Dark Arts spells. It surprised me that there was no Dark Arts section, but then I remembered what my Master had told me: The wizardssss at Hogwartsss are weak; they do not ussse many of the ssspellss I have taught you. They think them evil and only teach againsssst them. You musst ussse thisss againsst them. I understood then, that the wizards here must truly be weak, as my Master had told me, for otherwise why not use the spells they called Dark? They were useful spells with many applications, and, although it required a great amount of power to use them, the result was always rewarding. The only ones I disliked were the three my Master had called the Ultimate Curses, Cruciatus, Imperius, and Avada Kedavra. He'd used the former two on me, and taught me to fight them off, and the latter I'd been instructed to practice on little creatures. It always hurt me to use it, and I usually ended up crying, but I was obedient, as I'd learned to be of necessity.
Pulling my mind back to the present, I realized that Harry had been speaking, "...the library's one of the oldest parts of Hogwarts, and it's Hermione's favorite place to be. You met her, outside, remember?" he waited for me to nod and then continued, "You'd get along well with her I think, both of you brainiacs." I was about to retort angrily, but realized he was joking when I saw the laughter dancing in his eyes.
I couldn't help but grin back, "It's...amazing. Wow. I love it!"
"I'm glad you like it," he seemed pleased, just because I liked it. I sent him a startled glance; no one had ever done something for me merely to see me happy, it was an odd feeling. I decided I liked it.
After breakfast, Harry helped me up and we left the Hall. I had to stop outside the great double doors to catch my breath, and Harry waited for me patiently. Taking the chance, I looked around me at the Entrance Hall with curiosity. It was huge, with a high-vaulted ceiling and large stained-glass windows through which the bright morning light shone in, showing the trailing paths of dust motes up high above us. Old suits of armor lined the walls at intervals; their long halberds gleamed dully with a faded quality that hinted of a lustrous shine many years before. The huge double doors at the end of the hall towered above us, ancient and inlaid with many marks, some sigils and runes that, to my eyes, seemed to flicker slightly when I looked at them from my peripheral vision. The other markings were carved initials and little hearts, drawn near the bottom hinges.
I realized that I'd been taking a little too long and straightened, flashing a smile at Harry. He grinned back and we left the large Entrance Hall, slipping outside into the bright sunlight. I squinted slightly and we moved toward the lake. Several other students were scattered around the water's edge, sitting on blankets and reading, talking, or playing games. Harry led me to a group playing the latter and we sat down with them. After quick introductions and inquisitive glances, the other students returned to the game, bantering and exchanging tips as they moved the pieces around the board. I watched from the side, taking note of the strategies each player used, and observed the players' faces, noticing little nuances in their expressions that aided me in guessing their next moves. Most of the time, I was right.
After a while, I sensed someone watching me intently. I turned my head slightly to the right and slid my eyes in that direction, trying to find the person without obviously doing so. As I'd suspected, it was Harry. His keen green ((A/N: hey I rhyme!)) eyes were fixed on my face, the large black wire-rimmed glasses softened their gaze, but I could tell that he was studying me as carefully as I'd studied the other students just moments before. The hair on the back of my neck prickled and I felt distinctly uncomfortable, shifting uneasily. He seemed to notice my discomfort and he smiled at me sweetly. The innocence in his gaze was almost shocking; he didn't seem to suspect anything about me. But then again, I had been trained to utter subtlety, and, according to my Master, Harry Potter was not the brightest crayon in the box. In my rebellious way, I was starting to suspect that my Master had lied, and that Harry wasn't as guileless as he appeared. And yet, in my worshipful manner in regard to same Master, I believed that this deceit on Voldemort's part was only another test.
So, I simply smiled back and turned my attention back to the game. One boy, named Colin Creevey, was losing painfully, and I smirked slightly, to see his disappointment ((A/N: Goodness, she's terrible! No just kidding! Don't hate her!)). But the girl.her name was Hermione, Harry had said. She was pretty in a slightly more subtle way, with long brown hair, that was (although thick) very shiny and smooth, and large brown eyes. Those eyes, they were obviously intelligent, and it surprised me. This was one who might find me out, if I wasn't careful; and the way she talked to Harry, she was obviously a good friend of his, and cared about him quite a lot. I filed all this away in my mind for future reference, and observed some more.
* * * *
Later in the day, Harry showed me around the rest of the grounds. He was only greeted by members of three Houses, I noticed, but not the fourth. Their colors, green and silver, reminded me of my Master, and I saw the hatred glimmering in their eyes as Harry passed. I asked about the four Houses and Harry told me about the Founders of Hogwarts and Gryffindor (he said the name with a certain pride that told me that he belonged to that House), Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. The last name was almost spat out like a curse, and I decided that it was the Slytherins who hated Harry. From what I heard of both Houses, there was a rivalry between the two, and both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tended to support Gryffindor. The fact that there was such a level of complexity to the school was surprising to me; my Master had spoken of the place as if it was a place for simpletons and evil. Now, it seemed, I was seeing otherwise.
As we entered the library, I couldn't hide the smile that I felt spread across my face. Glancing at me, Harry grinned back, "You like it?"
I laughed quietly, "I love it. There are so many books." I turned in a slow circle, inhaling the smell of old and new books. This was where I belonged, among lofty piles of tomes, reading, organizing, and cataloguing. I'd always loved the libraries in the non-magical part of England, but this was different. In a small, removed corner, there was a sign that read, 'Muggle Books'. From what I'd heard the other students discussing, Muggle meant non- magical person. I recognized some books in that section, but my attention was soon drawn to the rest of the huge annals. The (gargantuan) remainder of the library was full of magical books. They were divided into sections, like Divination, Transfiguration, Charms, Wizarding History, Potions, Defense Against The Dark Arts and the like.
The latter section drew my attention; from the few magical books I'd read, it seemed to me that I'd been learning quite a few advanced Dark Arts spells. It surprised me that there was no Dark Arts section, but then I remembered what my Master had told me: The wizardssss at Hogwartsss are weak; they do not ussse many of the ssspellss I have taught you. They think them evil and only teach againsssst them. You musst ussse thisss againsst them. I understood then, that the wizards here must truly be weak, as my Master had told me, for otherwise why not use the spells they called Dark? They were useful spells with many applications, and, although it required a great amount of power to use them, the result was always rewarding. The only ones I disliked were the three my Master had called the Ultimate Curses, Cruciatus, Imperius, and Avada Kedavra. He'd used the former two on me, and taught me to fight them off, and the latter I'd been instructed to practice on little creatures. It always hurt me to use it, and I usually ended up crying, but I was obedient, as I'd learned to be of necessity.
Pulling my mind back to the present, I realized that Harry had been speaking, "...the library's one of the oldest parts of Hogwarts, and it's Hermione's favorite place to be. You met her, outside, remember?" he waited for me to nod and then continued, "You'd get along well with her I think, both of you brainiacs." I was about to retort angrily, but realized he was joking when I saw the laughter dancing in his eyes.
I couldn't help but grin back, "It's...amazing. Wow. I love it!"
"I'm glad you like it," he seemed pleased, just because I liked it. I sent him a startled glance; no one had ever done something for me merely to see me happy, it was an odd feeling. I decided I liked it.