A/N: Fixed font.... I hope.
The Secret History of One Nicole White
But it seemed the day's surprises were not over. After dinner that night-- just as some were getting up to leave-- Dumbledore held up his hand. "I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid I must detain you from your long-anticipated homework just a moment longer," he said, his spectacles glinting. "I'm afraid to say that Professor Sprout has recieved a rather unfortunate injury from her Venomous Tentacula. Madam Pomfrey, could, of course, heal her, but I'm afraid that Professor Neyra Sprout would like to resign and enjoy more of life outside of Hogwarts."
"I can't imagine why," Willow muttered sarcastically.
"Anyway," Professor Dumbledore continued, "her post will be taken by Sophia Willow, as she has some skill with plants. Professor Minerva McGonagall will be taking over Neyra's post as Head of Hufflepuff--" the Hufflepuffs looked both shocked and worried "--and Sophia Willow will be Head of Gryffindor."
Harry grinned. With Fred, George, Sophie, Trina, Nicole and Sirius, Gryffindor was guaranteed to be a madhouse within a few days.
"As I'm sure all of you have deduced, this leaves the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts open. Our previous professor, Remus Lupin has been sent for. The wolfsbane potion has been modified; Professor Lupin is now able to stay entirely human, if a bit snappish at the full moon." Dumbledore smiled kindly. "And now, I am sure you all really wish to do your homework now, so-- actually, if you could possibly wait a moment, I believe I hear our new Professor arriving."
There was a slam of doors and Harry caught sight of Remus Lupin, arrowing through the entrance hall on an old broomstick. "Commendably swift of him," said Dumbledore.
Lupin waved. "Hello every--"
WHAM!!
Remus had just crashed forcefully into the top of the high doorway and gone flying backwards. He sat up amid the loose twigs and felt his forehead tenderly.
"And to think he was once a Keeper," Harry heard Sophie Willow mumble as passed by. "I just don't know how he ever managed to get on the team."
"Sophia, darling!" cried Remus in a very bad fake high-class brittish accent, leaping up and giving her a hug. "I didn't know you, of all people, were going to be here."
"It's not just me either," confirmed Sophie. She leaned over to whisper in Remus's ear for a moment. A wide grin spread over his face. "Just like old times, eh?" he asked, grinning. "I never would have thought-- is the Mirror still here?"
"Probably.. but Remus, you're forgetting your manners! There's no call to take off on the old artifacts hunt yet, you rude little imp," said Sophia, giving him a playful elbow in the ribs. "You haven't even said hello to Harry yet."
"Good lord!" said Remus. "I apoligize profusely. How are you, Harry?" He crossed to the Gryffindor table and gripped Harry's shoulder in warm greeting.
For his part, Harry gaped. Remus's robes were newer, cleaner, and un-patched. His light brown hair was in nice disarray, his sharp green eyes were clear, and a slight smile played about his face and eyes. There were still streaks of gray among the strands of brown, but he did not look tired at all.
"You look-- in good health." Harry vainly tried to say say something to cover his surprise.
"With a little help from Dumbledore," Remus murmured. "You mean I don't look like a grave-digger anymore...." Hermione laughed. "Neither does Padfoot," she whispered confidentally.
"Knowing him, I'm not surprised," said Remus dryly. He walked swiftly toward the staff table.
"I'm assuming that's Remus Lupin, the werewolf," said Nicole.
"Uh huh," Harry confirmed.
Hermione laughed. "Look at Snape," she snorted. "He must know Sirius is here...." Snape looked pale and totally horrified. "His worst enemies," breathed Nicole. "His old school ones...." She sniggered uncontrolably. "Boy, can I not wait until Sirius gets his name cleared..." she went into a fit of giggles. "We can have some real fun."
********
The next few days were bliss for Harry. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes were becoming quite a favorite, and the much-previously-loved Canary Creams had become popular again. There was also another type of 'treat'-- Jaguar Jams, which turned Neville (once again, the scapegoat), into a rather large feline. For days afterward, many people began sprouting fur and sporting spots for several minutes, culimating an event in which Natalie McDonald attacked George in her unexpected cat form, and nearly gouged his eyes out, she was so mad. (Natalie had a bit of a temper and was under stress from a pop quiz that her Arithmancy teacher had given as homework.)
But the last straw was when Fred accidentally set the Gryffindor common room on fire. After that, most Gryffindors agreed that Fred and George had gone a wee bit too far.
It had all started innocently enough-- that is, Fred had been trying to invent a new kind of gag: Salamander Lolli-pops. They were bright orange, and contained living salamanders that burned your tounge nastily when licked. George had been handling an annoyed salamander with a spraybottle, goggles, and rubber gloves; this picture, combined with his messy hair and long white labratory robes, had drawn a crowd, and Harry, Hermione, Nicole and Ron were in the front row seats. There was a strong smell of Clorox from where Fred had been trying to bleach a red amphibian orange, and, in a desperate attempt to wash the posionous stuff of his salamander, Fred cracked a bottle of the strongest cleasing liquid he could find-- Jimmy Sunshine whiskey that he had gotten from God knows where -- and dumped it on him.
This highly flammable substance, when in contact with a fire-lizard's skin, would be known as the great culinary delight, "Salamander ala Flambe", as Fred found out. He dropped the creature like a hot poker (which it might as well have been), and onto a tray of recipes and papers. The entire pile went up in flames, set the draperies on fire, and soon half the tower was scrambling for windows, dormitories, and exits as small piles of things flared up and then died to a pile of ashes. The other fraction of the tower was randomly squirting jets of water at nothing at all, and, by the time someone (probably Hermione) had the sense to preform an Anti-Burning charm, the Gryffindor common room was reduced to a soggy, sligtly charred barbeque.
The carpets were fine, luckily, or McGonagall would have had their heads on silver platters-- the great culinary delight "Students ala Flambe".
But as a few days passed, the damage was repaired,and the smell of burnt salamander subsided, something became clear to Harry. There was a strange kind of similarity about Sophia Willow and Sirius Black. Harry couldn't quite figure out what.
"Do Sirius and Sophie seem kinda.... uh, close to you?" he asked Ron, Hermione and Nicole in the common room that evening. "I mean, they talk the same, both take charge, both don't mind saying Voldemort, and they like the same kind of humor."
"You're right." Hermione pondered it. "I'll ask Sirius, next time I see him."
*********
A struggling man was hauled into the room, closely guarded by Sophie and Remus. Remus's robes were ripped; Sophie had a long nasty scratch up her arm. Remus was carrying two wands: one was presumably Death Eater's.
"Good work, Remus," said Dumbledore, looking pleased.
"It wasn't me, sir," said Remus politely. "We would have never caught this-- knave without Sophie." Sirius smiled proudly.
"Where is Pettigrew?" Dumbledore did not beat around the bush. He leaned forward over his desk, his light blue eyes penatrating.
"None of your business," snarled the Death Eater.
Sophie cuffed him lightly around the head with her uninjured arm. "I would hit you harder, but you're not worth the energy," she scoffed. "Tell me. Now."
The Death Eater remained silent.
"Trust me. You do not want her for an enemy." Sirius leaned forward too, almost nose-to-nose with the Death Eater. "You're one of the freaks who put me in Azkaban for twelve years, for a crime I didn't do. Now talk, buster."
The Death Eater clamped his jaw down tightly and didn't utter a squeak.
"Look at his hands," hissed Nicole. Sure enough, the Death Eater's hands were trembling. "Just a moment," said Nicole. "Excuse me, Professor, could I have a go at this?"
Dumbledore looked briefly confused, but after a moment his expression cleared. "Do you recognize him?"
"Oh yes," Nicole nodded. "Remember me?" She let the Death Eater study her features for a moment. "Sahora Dormenz, four years ago. I was known as Project 104-- heir to Voldemort." Hermione started violently. Harry's head snapped up at the mention of "Voldemort's heir". "But this time, Visra, I've got the upper hand."
The Death Eater, presumably Visra, was now shaking visibly. "Remember all the times you beat me? All the times you told me I would follow in Voldemort's footsteps, after time? The times you told me I would come to see the Dark?" Visra whimpered. "I never did, did I? I never lost those skills you taught me, those secrets you whispered to me. They're still here, inside my head--" Nicole tapped her temple "--and they've never left me alone! I know how to transfer those to you. Those nights studying payed off, finally. How would you like to be haunted by a hate to deep to comprehend?" Visra looked fearfully up at Nicole and pleaded, "No! No, please, I'll tell you anything!"
"A little information is all we'll be needing," whispered Nicole, sounding remarkably like a herione on a popular Muggle TV show, "Xena, Warrior Princess". "In exchange, you'll have a chance. More of a one than I got. Now, where is Pettigrew?"
"In the Forbidden Forest," mumbled Visra, looking down submissively, "he came because Master didn't think I was to be trusted."
"And you're not, are you?"
"I suppose not," admitted Visra reluctantly, still gazing downward. "But--" his left hand passed over his robes as Nicole threw herself into a flying tackle, knocking Sirius over backwards. Remus went stumbling back to crash into a wall, and Sophie pinned both Visra's arms as Nicole sat on his shins.
"You didn't think I'd fall for that, did you?" asked Nicole, breathing heavily. "Another trick they taught you at Sahora Dormenz, wasn't it? You forget, I've come to recognize signs. Like I'm going to let you press the Dark Mark and summon Voldemort himself!"
Remus hauled himself up the wall and took Nicole's position as Nicole herself eased off the Death Eater's shins. "Well, you've got your information," said Nicole disgustedly. "I'll be going."
"What do we do with him?" Sirius gestured helplessly at the prone figure on the floor from his position draped over the back of a chair.
"Dispose of him in a seemly manner, I suppose," answered Nicole thickly, turning. As the door slammed after her, Harry was surprised to see her face was wet with tears.
Hermione dragged them up to the Gryffindor tower after a brief dinner. "Where are you in such a hurry to go?" asked Harry, fighting to get free of Hermione's iron grip.
"I want to talk to Nicole when no one else is around," Hermione told them firmly, "and now she's had a chance to calm--and cool--down."
"Why?" asked Ron, muffled (he had stuffed his pockets with pastries and was now gobbling them down at an alarming rate.)
"Stupid," Hermione said, exasperated. "Did you hear all that stuff Nicole said to the Death Eater?"
"Do we really have a right to know?" countered Ron.
"Fine," Hermione barked, turning away. "You go ahead. Just go back to dinner and leave Harry and I to find out what's troubling our friend." Ron followed Hermione without further argument. As they climbed into the portrait hole, they caught a glimpse of a small huddled figure in an armchair next to the fire. Hermione went over immediately.
"Nicole, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," snapped Nicole tightly
. "It's your past, isn't it?" Hermione asked gently.
"How did you guess?" Nicole laughed bitterly. "You have no idea."
"But I'd like to," pointed out Hermione. "Tell me about it."
"No."
"Someday, Nicole, you will have to; just to bleed off the posion."
"But it doesn't have to be today."
"Can it really be any worse than any other day?" Nicole blew her nose. In truth, Hermione's common sense spoke to her own, just as it always had. "Very well." Everyone drew closer. "When I was four years old, my mother was mugged by a bunch of masked wizards. They knocked her out, but she managed to stun two of them before they did so. They took me and used an Obliteration Memory Charm on my mother, Trina. The wizards didn't know that Dumbledore had placed an Anti-Obliteration spell on Mom, and so it just bounced off. I was taken, a screaming, crying child wrapped in a blanket, to a place-- a.. a castle. It was a school for the Dark Arts-- young girls, mostly, but a few boys, were taken away from their parents and put in this school, where they were taught the Dark Arts and to serve Voldemort. The castle's name was Sahora Dormenz, or the Sleeping Serpent in the language of Old. Voldemort did not build it: for as long as their has been Hogwarts, there has been Sahora Dormenz. The Ancient Evils built it in mockery of Hogwarts, which they feared. The layout is exactly the same. There are even houses, but they are all worse than Slytherin. Sahora Dormenz even operated on the same schedule, with classes at the same time. Only the classes are different, all about the Dark Arts, how to use them, and what we were to do when we graduated. I saw three people graduate. Voldemort himself came and burned the Dark Mark onto their arm. Then he gave them test assignments, to see if they were clever enough to serve him and survive. Only one made it. I was at the top of my classes for six years. All the teachers considered me to be the heir apparent to Voldemort, and they told me things that you couldn't imagine, to harden my heart and make me hate the muggles and Good wizards, like Dumbledore. It worked the other way. I grew to hate my teachers so fiercely I could hardly look at them without shaking with rage. But I stayed at the top of the class. Soon my time had come. I had only three years left there and I knew I must escape soon. I couldn't stand it anymore. I tried every trick in the book. Every time, I was almost caught. Finally, I tried I an old Muggle feat. A drugged bottle of wine took the guards out cold and I sneaked past them. I found myself in the village of Rya, the only Dark town in the world. Hags leered at me with mossy teeth as I crept past. Trolls watched from the shadows. Finally, one of Dumbledore's agents found me, a sobbing ten-year old, curled in a patch of darkness, hiding from the nightmare-ish creatures. I was brought home to my mother. For the next year, I finally got to know her better, and discover my history before I was taken. I didn't even know my own name anymore. No one did; at Sahora Dormenz, we were all simply called by our number and path. Girls were 'Project's, boys were 'Plan's. I finally got to pick a name, besides "Project 104". But it wasn't all happy and fluffy. Dark Hunters were still looking for me. I had to change my last name to "White". For all I know, they're still searching for me. The Heir to Voldemort. They still think they can turn me. And worse, the hate is still here, inside my head. It never leaves me alone. Creeping through my mind, bringing to surface the memories, the ones I've tried so desperately to bury. I've learned to ignore them. Mostly. I escaped with my life, which is more than I can say for many. Sometimes, I wonder if they didn't just let me escape. But I do have physical souveniers." She lifted the back of her shirt slightly. Hermione gasped. Crisscrossed in a bizzare weaving across her back, old, silver whip-lash marks marred the skin. "That's just some of my charming scars," said Nicole bitterly. "Look."
She let her shirt drop and pulled her hair to one side. This time, it was Harry who gasped. Ron and Hermione both choked. Half-hidden by the curve of her left ear, and right against her hair-line, gleamed a silvery scar. Not a whiplash, either. A tiny, minute Dark Mark-- a skull with a snake for a tounge-- slashed diagonally through with a lightning bolt looked as if it had been burned into the skin. "We all had that," said Nicole, letting her hair swing down again to cover the horrible symbol. "It was the mark of a Death Eater in training. When you graduated, you had the Dark Mark burned into your arm and the lightning was removed from the other symbol. It was a proud mark, according to Voldemort, because it meant you had gone to Sahora Dormenz."
They sat in silence for a while. Nicole stared, blank-eyed, at the fire. Finally, Ron broke the silence. "Do Fred and George know?" Nicole gave a sad little laugh. "Yes. They found me by the fire one night after dinner. Everyone else had gone to bed. I was still up. They demanded that I explain, and did I really have any choice? George, as my-- friend, has a right to know." Speaking of which, when she ended, Sirius, Trina, Fred and George climbed through the portrait hole. "Pity you left early," said George with a glance at Nicole. "We sent a couple of owls with packages of Ton-Tounge Toffee to Crabbe and Goyle. They--" he broke off, chuckling. Sirius leaned against the wall, laughing. "I borrowed Dumbledore's Invisibility Cloak and got to see it all...." he snorted. "And that's not all," chortled Trina. "Sirius here got bored and enchanted Goyle's sock! It pulled off his foot and jumped into a pudding!"
"How the hell did you enchant Goyle's sock?" asked Hermione with great interest.
"Oh, I hid behind a doorframe where no one would brush past me in the Invisiblity Cloak. I aimed for his foot, but it hit the sock."
"And got dragged-- heehehe-- ahem, before-- oh, hahaha-- Dumbledore, I-- ptttphht!-- suppose," said Hermione, and gave up completely. Soon she, Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Sirius were rolling on the floor in mirth. Trina made a dignified attempt to conceal her giggles, but soon she too surrendered to rib-breaking laughter. Even Nicole chuckled weakly.
Sophie Willow fell through the portrait hole and into a armchair. "Sirius," she gasped, "how did you manage to do that? I have got to learn that charm."
"Just a little levitation," chuckled Sirius. "I'll teach you all."
*********
That Saturday was the first Quidditch match of the season. Scheduled the day after Halloween, Harry was nervous and didn't enjoy the Halloween feast as much as usual. There were several things to be worried about. The major factor was that they were playing Slytherin, and Samantha Killos, the new Slytherin captain, had really put together a good team. Harry dragged his broomstick out of his trunk and headed for the Quidditch field with Ron. The Slytherin team was already there; Harry and Ron took their broomsticks outside on the sunny field to defrost them. Hermione, Neville and Nicole joined them momentarily, working in silence.
Suddenly Samantha Killos, the Slytherin captain, came around the corner. "Go away Killos," ordered Katie, who had just come around the bend. "We don't want you spying."
"Would I do such a thing?" asked Samantha calmly. "You underestimate me."
"By all means, I beg to protest and differ," said Ron, in a suprising burst of vocabulary, "I think we overestimate you."
"Ron!" exclaimed Samantha, making a desperate attempt at smoothing down her hair. "I--I didn't see you there!"
"No kidding," mumbled Hermione, kicking Harry lightly and grinning.
"I-- I was just going," said Samantha, beginning to beat a hasty retreat to the locker rooms. A second later, she had vanished.
"What was that all about?" asked Ron, puzzled. "You couldn't have gotten her outta here faster with a Banishing Spell."
"Which is about what you need with these Slytherins," muttered Neville.
The Gryffindor team took up their positions as the Slytherins walked onto the field. People poured into the stands. When they were all seated, Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Fifteen brooms rose high into the air as Natilie McDonald, a Gryffindor who had taken over Lee Jordan's job of commentator, began.
"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Nicole White of Gryffindor, a nice pass to Katie Bell, back to White, now to Alicia Spinnet, back to White-- she's really hurtling along up there, dodges a Bludger and two Slytherin Beaters-- Keeper Bletchly dives-- misses by a foot-- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!! Only two minutes into the game!"
Nicole zoomed back up to the Gryffindor side of the field as Adrianne Martinia took the Quaffle. Blocking her neatly, Nicole signaled to Hermione, who sent a Bludger pelting Martinia's way, who dropped the Quaffle. Alicia Spinnet took it again and scored.
The Slytherins had the Quaffle-- dodging around Katie, Martinia sent the red ball belting Ron's way. He just barely managed to catch it and prevent a score.
The crowd gasped: Harry had just gone into a spectacular tilt, shooting upward after Malfoy who was headed up past the Gryffindor goal posts. Nicole streaked up to block Malfoy, making him swerve sharply. Harry gained a small amount. Malfoy cursed and tried desperately to dodge and duck, but where ever he turned Nicole kept him from advancing. Neville sent a Bludger flying in the general direction of the Slytherin Seeker just as Harry caught the Snitch--
It was over suddenly and ignominiously for Malfoy. The Bludger hit him hard in the shoulder, knocking him off his broomstick.
A few people in the crowd screamed and Harry pulled out his wand, but it wasn't nessecary. Hermione grabbed Draco's arm when he dropped past and managed to slow his fall enough with broom to avoid serious injury. They both hit the ground with a small thunk, but neither were hurt beyond a few bruises.
Draco got up, humiliated and blushing to beat a rose, and limped over to the sidelines, where his team gathered to see if he was hurt. The Gryffindors helped Hermione to her feet and carried her, cheering, to the sidelines. The Slytherins glared posionously after them. Harry and the team were on their way to the outside victory celebrations when a large group of Slytherins stepped out infront of them from behind some bleachers.
"What do you lot want?" hailed Hermione.
"We don't appriciate being cheated," said Adrianne Martinia. "Everyone knows that it was only a bit of foul play that won that match. We all know that the fair side should have won. You were using signals!"
Hermione snorted. "Fair side? About as fair as a rainy morning! Your cheating record's about as clear as mud. Not to mention all the individual tricks.... the only class you're good at is Divination!"
"Trust Hermione to come up with something like that," muttered Ron, chuckling.
"I only suppose you consider yourself superior because of the famed Harry Potter and all that," said another Slytherin. "Wake up! Everyone knows Potter only survived out of sheer luck!"
"Some day I must read this scholar everyone," Nicole remarked. "He seems to have written so much-- all of it wrong."
"He was a Slytherin, no doubt," snickered Ron. "One of those camel-drooling--"
The Slytherins all leapt at him with the clear intent of beating the snot out of Ron. The other Gryffindors waded in-- and a mighty brawl ensued.
Apparently, the sporadic thuds, screams of pain and of "Ow! No biting!" alerted the teachers, for they came on the run, McGonagall in the lead. Furious, McGonagall waved her wand and froze all in their tracks as the other teachers pulled them apart.
McGonagall glared at them all with her iron stare; Malfoy had a black eye; Nicole had a split lip that was bleeding slightly; Hermione had hit Adrianne Martinia over the head with a book; a Slytherin Harry didn't kow sported a bloody nose. All of them got ready for one hell of a lecture.
McGonagall dragged them all up to her office and shut the door firmly. "Detention," she said harshly. "I am so angry I can barely speak! Two hours' detention.... brawling... I don't know what this school is coming to... I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore-- of that, you may be sure. You may go. Potter, if you would stay behind for a moment."
Wondering what on Earth he could have done that deserved punishment besides brawling, Harry took a seat in a chair in front of McGonagall's desk. "Here," McGonagall said with much more gentleness than when she had spoken to the others, and handed him a damp cloth. "You'd better go see Madam Pomfrey-- that cut doesn't look serious, but all the same...."
As if on cue, Harry noticed a sharp pain in his temple and realized there was a open, bleeding gash there that was dripping slowly into his ear. Gently, he swabbed off the ear and held the cloth to the cut. "Ask her to make sure it's not infected," the deputy headmistress called after him as Harry left.
Dumbledore ushered Harry into his office for yet a third time that Tuesday. The others were all ready waiting. "We deem the time ripe," said Dumbledore. "Pettigrew is worried: the spy, Visra, has not returned. He will do anything to capture, uh-- Harry, actually."
"This is considered an honor?" asked Harry sarcastically. Dumbledore ignored him. "Harry, you will have a major role to play in this."
"Whoop de do," muttered Harry-- he was having a bad day.
"If you go out into the Forest for detention with Hagrid, and pretend to get lost, it should draw Pettigrew. We have pinpointed Peter's exact location-- you will be within hearing range of it, calling out for help. Sophia Willow, Remus Lupin and Hermione Granger will be with you under Invisibility Cloaks. They will disarm Pettigrew and bring him back up to the castle. It should be easy to get the Ministry up here and clear Sirius's name."
"Good," said Sirius. "I want to see Peter in Azkaban for killi-- what he did." Sirius hastily changed what he'd been about to say with a glance at Harry.
"For killing my parents," said Harry dully.
There was silence for a moment, then Hermione asked with false brightness, "When are we going to put this plan in action?"
Dumbledore coughed slightly. "Ah, yes, that was another thing I wanted to tell you.... we're planning on doing it at eleven o'clock tonight. You may as well go and get ready."
"Great," mumbled Harry. "Six hours to get our collective excrement together. Just who in flaming hell got me into this mess?"
"I'm here to take you home, Harry," whispered Peter. "Come with me... my dear friend Sirius sent me--"
A jet of red light shot through the clearing-- too soon. Pettigrew jumped away and hit a tree. Bits of bark sprayed everywhere.
Peter's eyes widened. He whirled around like a cornered animal to find himself confronted by three sturdy-looking magic workers: Hermione, Sophie, and Remus. Behind Pettigrew, Harry himself pulled out his wand.
Peter grinned savagely and threw himself to one side, rolling past another jet of light. He came up and pressed the Dark Mark burning on his arm.
And suddenly the clearing was full of dark figures swathed in black--
Death Eaters.
A/N: OOOH! I'm EVIL! Hehee, cliffhanger! Anyhoozle, I should have part five up soon (before you start tearing your hair out with your teeth) but the reason I didn't have this up before was that ff.n wasn't working right, so I sorta had to work around that an' all....
Lizyrd