Seeing the Invisible 3
Disclaimer: anything you recognize belongs to J.K Rowling, and anything left over is mine. Thank you for reading. Enjoy!
For the first few weeks of school, Farrell couldn't go anywhere without being accompanied by Ron, Harry, or Hermione. She learned this the hard way o her second day while trying to get to divination by herself and got so completely lost that she not only missed divination, but charms and dinner also. She only found her way back when she recognized that out the window to her left was Hagrid's cottage, and she just walked in that direction all the way back to the entrance hall.
Within that first month or so, Farrell met so many interesting people and learned more amazing things than she'd ever even thought possible. Her classes, she thought, were absolutely wonderful, whether she disliked the teacher or the class itself or not. For example, though she was a terror at charms (on her first day, while attempting to cast a cheering charm on Harry, she made him cry for about three and a half hours. Professor Flitwick had to lead him into a small, warmly lit room and made Farrell sit with him the entire time, trying to cheer him up without magic) she adored Professor Flitwick and simply loved to watch what charms her classmates had successfully preformed. The strangest thing about classes to her was how well she did in divination. She'd never even seen the book before, yet she knew every answer to Professor Trelawney's questions. She could see the crystal ball, she could see the tea leaves, and she'd never yet lied. Parvati and Lavendar were not glad to have her in class, but she only wished she could do so well in charms and herbology.
There were a few odd things that didn't make sense to Farrell, though, specifically things that one wouldn't usually notice. For instance, the way that Professor McGonagall looked at her sometimes in class when she thought that Farrell wasn't looking. It was as though she was trying to get to know Farrell by staring at her from over the rims of those square spectacles she wore. Another odd thing was how Dumbledore, the headmaster, constantly popped up out of nowhere, and almost always found Harry around to have a quick word with. Upon overhearing snippets of their conversations, Farrell picked up quite a few confusing things. The weirdest one was how they both often talked of something or someone called "snuffles". " Have you talked to snuffles lately?" Harry would whisper to Dumbledore. Farrell would just stand several feet away, pretending to be extremely interested in the wall or painting nearby.
One night in late October, while the chill wind whistled past the windows of the drafty Gryffindor common room, Farrell sat in an armchair near the fire, trying her best to keep warm while she breezed through her transfiguration essay, her eyes glinting behind her small, rectangular reading glasses.
Harry sat about three chairs behind, not wanting to disturb her, but inwardly dying to rush up and sit an inch from the edge of the hearth. The common room was completely empty save the two of them and a small second year in the far back, seeing if she could freeze her cup of water from back there.
Farrell rubbed her icy hands together, " damn the first frost. Stupid, stupid first frost," she muttered.
Behind her, due to her very sensitive ears, she could hear Harry's teeth chattering.
" For heaven's sake, Potter, come closer to the fire before you turn into Potter the Popsicle," she said loudly. Shaking her head as he slowly walked up and sat beside her, she looked down and continued her essay.
"how many rolls have you done?" he asked, looking at the stack of filled in parchment about as thick as a small book beside her.
" oh…I'd say about 7, " she replied, not taking her eyes off her eighth roll, he quill moving easily along the paper.
" seven!? We're only required 2!" said Harry, astonished.
Farrell finally looked up, her eyebrow raised. What she saw made her jaw nearly fall off. Harry was sitting in the armchair next to her in jeans and a tee shirt. She was wearing three shirts, a sweater, and pants under her robes, plus a scarf for her face.
" What is wrong with you!?" she said to him. He just looked back with a puzzled expression.
"no wonder you're freezing! Geez. And I just thought you were as cold as I am, but you must be numb…," she said softly as she ducked inside her robe and pulled off her top sweater and scarf. She threw them to him.
" Put these on. Now."
Harry took them and obediently put them on, and some of the color returned to his face.
"Thank you," he said, blushing, " but…you've got other things on, haven't you? Because if you haven't I certainly can't-"
" of course I have, don't be a nitwit. Only insane people like you come down in short sleeves when its 20 degrees inside," she said, rolling her eyes at him. Suddenly, she blushed and put the finishing sentence on her last page. She rolled up all of the parchment, tied it with a brown cord, and stored it in her knapsack. Though it was very late, and she had no work left, she could not compel herself to go up to her dormitory, for, even though they weren't talking, or even looking at eachother, just sitting beside Harry and feeling his presence made her feel as though everything was alright.
She thought about how she'd heard him talking to Dumbledore earlier today and had heard the word "snuffles" again. She decided it was time to ask Harry what snuffles was.
" Harry?" asked Farrell, looking over at him.
"Hmm?"
" Who is Snuffles?"
Whatever Harry had expected her to ask him, it certainly was not that. He didn't even think about lying to Farrell. He looked her right in the eyes, bewildered.
" How did you…."
"I'm not deaf you know, and you're not a very soft talker, if you haven't noticed, " said Farrell, staring right back at him, her face set.
Harry sighed and looked around him, " we can't discuss this here," he said, pulling off her sweater and scarf, " I'll be right back- stay here and put these on, " he threw the sweater and scarf at her, " and be ready." As he walked away she could have sworn she heard, " this is definitely going to alarm Sirius…"
Farrell nodded as he stood and climbed the stairs to the boys dorm.
" this must be much deeper than I'd imagined, " thought Farrell as she pulled her gloves from her knapsack and put them on.
Within a minute Harry appeared at the bottom of the staircase, carrying three cloaks.
" are Ron and Hermione coming?" asked Farrell, counting the cloaks.
" no, " replied Harry, " one is for you, one is for me, and one is for both of us."
" What?"
" take off your robe," he said, disregarding her question and checking his watch. It read 12:09, they hadn't much time.
" pardon me, but I do not strip down for yours or anyone else's amusement," Farrell stuttered, astonished.
" oh no! its just that, if you wear it, it will be soaked from yesterday's puddles, and that's just something else you've got to wash, that's why I brought you a cloak, " laughed Harry, handing her the black cloak.
"oh," she said, blushing as she pulled off her black robe, revealing slender legs and a slim figure covered by khaki pants and several shirts and a sweater, all in different shades of brown and tan. Harry stared while she fastened the clips on the cloak.
"can I ask you something?" said Harry. Farrell nodded in reply.
" Do you always wear clothes that match your eyes?"
Farrell blushed deeply and shook her head. With that Harry grinned and looked back at her eyes.
"Well, its very pretty…." Then he cleared his throat and blushed, " er … we should go, so…come here, " he said, beckoning her forward. She hesitated, but moved forward, and Harry draped the silver cloak over both of them, and they walked together through the halls and out of the castle. When they got out to the lake, Harry began to explain the entire story of Sirius showing up in his third year and telling Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Professors Lupin and Dumbledore of his innocence. He revealed that snuffles was a sort of code name for Sirius, and he was to meet him this very night, for that was where he and Farrell were headed.
"And that was why you were sitting in the common room so late, with nothing to do?" asked Farrell, her mind nearly exploding with all of the information she had just consumed.
"exactly," he said, reaching out a stick to hit the secret knot of the Whomping Willow.
They walked through the hole and up the tunnel to the shrieking shack. Before they entered the room Sirius had told Harry to be, Harry removed the invisibility cloak and had Farrell stand back, just in case. He knocked on the door three times. In response, there was one knock from inside and Harry swung the door open, motioning for Farrell to wait.
A tall man with cleanly cut black hair stood just inside, close enough for Farrell to see. Though when she looked at his eyes, she was startled. They had a look of something extinguished, like the burnt remains of logs after a fire has been put out. She saw Harry walk in, and he and Sirius greeted eachother with smiles and Sirius sat down.
" Sirius, I've brought someone I'd like you to meet," said Harry.
Sirius looked at him, confused, " Harry…you haven't told people of me, have you?"
"Of course not, the person I've brought is a good friend of mine, just like Ron and Hermione, and I want you two to meet, seeing as you're the closest I have to family."
Sirius just cocked his head to the side inquisitively.
"You can come in now, " said Harry, smiling and beckoning Farrell into the room.
Sirius shifted his gaze from Harry to the petite form by the door. Farrell slowly walked in, her gloved hands clasped together, her eyes glittering behind her reading glasses ( she'd forgotten to take them off in all this excitement).
She stopped several feet in front of Sirius, gave a tiny smile and said, " hello, " in her softest voice.
To Harry's immense surprise, Sirius went slightly pale and just gaped at Farrell like a ghost. Farrell could hear him say ," holy Merlin, " under his breath.
Harry looked at Sirius, perplexed.
" What is it?" Harry asked.
"What's her name?, " asked Sirius, not taking his eyes off of Farrell.
Farrell looked absolutely shocked, but looked right at Sirius.
"My name is Farrell, sir. Farrell Branwen."
Sirius stood, and walked closer to her, " You say your name is Branwen?"
"Y-yes…," answered Farrell, wondering whether this man was fully sane.
" and your name is not Betsy?"
" no, sir. My name is Farrell, as I told you."
Sirius sat down again, and whether he was sane or not again flittered through Farrell's mind as she watched him.
" well…its just that…you're the spitting image of…a very old friend of mine, and you've the same name as a woman I once met at a party with James Potter…and, unless its sheer coincidence, you're her daughter, to be sure- you have the same eyes. "
"what are you talking about, Sirius? Lots of people have eyes that look alike," said Harry.
" If you looked at this girl's eyes, Harry- and I mean truly looked at them, you'd know that they're one of a kind….well…they used to be two of a kind, perhaps even three, but no more than that, I know."
Harry looked at Farrell and nodded in agreement.
Then he turned to face Farrell again, " Was your mother's name Betsy?"
Farrell's eyes widened, " yes sir. Elizabeth."
Sirius sighed. Then he clapped his hands together and gave Farrell a warm smile, " I'm so sorry I did that. It was disrespectful towards you. I apologize. It's nice to meet you, Farrell, I'm Sirius, " he said, extending his hand.
"Pleased to meet you, Sirius, " she replied shakily, taking his hand.
From there on the conversation was typical for a while, school, work, and such. Then Harry brought up a topic that seemed to have been bothering him for some time.
"Any leads with the death eaters?" Harry asked.
"Funny you should ask," said Sirius, digging through his pocket," since we found something just today. Four or five of these ," he pulled a slip or parchment out of his pocket, " in a dark alley in London. They seem to be a prophecy of some type. We can't make heads or tails of it though."
He handed Harry the parchment fragment and Farrell leaned in to read it.
It read:
Where strangers turn to blood
And those relatives join up
And on swift wings escape the flood
But lose the treasure from their cup
Where friends and foes must all unite
To win the battle, fight the fight
In this place of fear and pain
The lightning child shall still remain
He'll fight a battle, and win alone
But the dark enemy has not gone
To win the fight forevermore
Lightning and seer together must soar
Over the unseen town of which the treasure was for
Over the city of forgotten folklore.
Farrell quickly pulled a small notepad and quill from her pocket and copied it down.
"I don't know, Sirius, it doesn't make any sense to me," said Harry, shrugging and handing the paper back to Sirius. Just then he glanced at his watch.
"oh! We really have to go, Farrell, " Harry said.
"Well, alright, goodbye, you two. Nice meeting you Farrell, " said Sirius. He gave Harry a hug and proceeded to put on his cloak.
"Excuse me, Sirius, " said Farrell, still standing by the door.
" Yes?" Sirius replied questioningly.
" who was the old friend of yours you said I look like?"
" well… actually you would know her, considering you go to Hogwarts. You're a spitting image of Minerva McGonagall at 16. though you're only fifteen, but one couldn't tell, you know?"
"Professor McGonagall? Head of Gryffindor?"
"That's her, " said Sirius with a smile, " but you should be going now, or you'll be discovered. Goodbye Farrell."
"goodbye, " said Farrell as she ran down the passage to Harry, who was waiting for her.
They walked back to the castle together and each went back to their dormitory for their hour or so of sleep before lessons.
In the morning before breakfast, Ron walked down to meet Hermione as usual.
Seeing that Harry wasn't with Ron, Hermione walked up to him and asked, " Ron, where's Harry?"
"Oh, he looked horrible this morning, almost ill, so I left him alone. Where's Farrell?"
"That's what's odd. She looked like she hadn't slept at all, so I left her, but put a spell over her bed so that her covers roll back and her drapes open. I wonder what she was doing all night…"
Ron shrugged, " lets go."
So Ron and Hermione headed down to the great hall. Half an hour later, Farrell woke rather unpleasantly by the morning sun in her eyes and her bed trying to make itself while she was in it. She jumped out of bed and saw the note on the bedside cabinet and put on her glasses to read it.
Dear Farrell,
Good morning! Come down to breakfast as soon as possible, but only if you feel well. If you're ill, just go to the hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey will fix you up.
See you in class,
Hermione
Farrell looked at her wristwatch and quickly jumped up and dressed. She grabbed her knapsack and ran up to the boys dorms.
"hey Harry!!!!" she yelled through the wooden door. No answer came.
" shnikes! Harry!! " she tried again. Finally she opened the door quietly and walked in to where Harry was sleeping.
She softly tapped him and said as gently as she could, " Haaaarry….come on, we're going to be late…"
He stirred and opened his eyes. At first he smiled and then he put his glasses on and turned beet red.
" geez! Whaddya think you're doing?" he asked, getting up.
" making sure you don't miss Transfiguration completely, lets go, you're making us late," she replied laughing, " I'll meet you in the common room, " she said as she raced down the stairs.
Harry shook his head and dressed. He was down a minute later, still looking as groggy as he had the first moment he'd opened his eyes. Farrell didn't look much better, but she had her wits and sense of humor about her.
" ah, prince charming emerges, " she joked and walked toward the portrait hole.
All Harry had to say to that was, " hmph."
When they plopped down in seats opposite Ron and Hermione, no one spoke, but Ron and Hermione just stared.
Ron finally said, after they'd started to eat ," you two look like you've been trampled by a hippogriff."
Hermione almost choked on her roll, this seemed so funny to her. Ron slammed her on the back with one of his hands and gave Harry the "I-think-she's-gone-insane-since-that-wasn't-funny" look. Harry just rolled his eyes and tried to revive himself a bit over some porridge. Farrell had a cup of tea and was back to whistling and being happy that they had transfiguration first- her normal self. When she watched Harry's head drooping towards his porridge bowl she decided not to stop him and let him have a bit of a wake up call. And that he did have. His head pitched forward and fell right into his bowl of goopy porridge with a little 'plop' sound. It took Harry a few seconds to realize his head was in a bowl of porridge, but when he did the result was spectacularly hilarious. He jerked upright with an " ACK!" and a whole bunch of spluttering noises. Ron, Hermione, Farrell, and just about everyone at the Gryffindor table was howling with laughter. Farrell was laughing so hard that it was difficult for her to hand Harry a napkin. After he'd wiped his face off, though he was blushing, he couldn't help but laugh too. Farrell noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that professor Dumbledore was laughing too.
When Hermione regained her powers of speech, she said, " well Harry, now that you're awake, can we go to Transfiguration?" which sent them all off again. They staggered from the table, clutching their stomachs and walked off to Transfiguration.
~
After what she'd heard from Sirius she just couldn't look at Professor McGonagall the same way. She was constantly staring at her, and when their eyes met for some reason or another, she just couldn't look away out of curiosity. There was a familiarity with those eyes, but Farrell just couldn't place it. She didn't know how, since her mother died when she was 2 years old, but for some reason Professor McGonagall seemed to remind her of her mother.
Almost every day, Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Farrell sat in the library poring over huge books, trying to make sense of the prophecy they had received from Sirius ( Harry and Farrell had spent quite a long time explaining everything that had gone on in their brief meeting with Sirius). October, November, and half of December had passed, but they'd learned nothing. One day in mid-December, Hermione pointed out a notice on the wall of the Gryffindor common room. It was an invitation for all fourth years and above to attend the Yule ball. The four friends kind of shrugged it off, not quite thinking about it, since there was still ten days until the ball. One lazy day, five days later, Harry was just sitting around in the near empty common room, losing in chess to Ron, when it occurred to Harry that he was running out of time to ask someone to the ball.
"Ron, who are you going to the ball with?" Harry asked, looking up at him after moving his knight.
"Check. Oh, I don't know," said Ron, shrugging, " but I suppose we should get a move on and ask someone, or we won't have dates."
Harry moved his king to the left, " good point…"
"mhmmm….checkmate. I win," said Ron, grinning.
"How unusual," said Harry as Hermione and Farrell walked down from the girls dormitory.
Ron swiveled around, " Hey, Hermione, where are you going?" he said, seeing her head for the portrait hole.
"oh, just out, " said Hermione, brushing one of her stray curls out of her eyes.
Ron stood up, " can I come?"
Hermione smiled, " sure."
Ron and Hermione walked out of the portrait hole and out onto the grounds. Though the ground was covered in snow, and they were not in cloaks, just sweaters and such, they did not mind. They just smiled and laughed and had a good time.
During a moment of silence, Ron looked over at Hermione.
"Do you remember that fight we had after the Yule Ball last year?" he said.
" yes"
" I didn't mean any of it, and I know that I never apologize, but I was thinking about it recently and you were right."
"right? Right about what?" Hermione said, confused.
" you said that I should have asked you before Viktor. And unless he's coming with you this year, that's what I plan to do."
Hermione blushed.
"Will you come to the ball with me, Hermione?"
Hermione smiled at him and bent down to the ground. Ron thought she was tying her shoe, but found that he was wrong when she stood and hit him in the chest with a snowball.
"ARG! What was that for?" asked Ron, confused.
"That was for being so pigheaded last Christmas, and this," she stood on tiptoe and gave him a kiss, "is for being such a gentleman this Christmas."
"So you'll come with me?" asked Ron, grinning.
Hermione gave a laugh, nodded, and took Ron's hand in hers as they walked back to the castle.
~
Back in the Common Room, Farrell and Harry were playing their second game of chess. In the first game Farrell had creamed Harry within ten minutes. She wondered whether he was letting her win. Most likely. Then they were distracted by the sight of Ron and Hermione entering the common room. They were holding hands, Ron had remnants of a snowball on the front of his sweater, and they were both laughing. Ron looked at Harry and winked before sitting on the couch beside Hermione.
Farrell looked at Harry, raised her eyebrows and whispered, " told you so."
Harry grinned, moved his bishop and said, " Checkmate."
~
Harry awoke early the next morning and headed downstairs with a book and read by the fire. He watched the sun rise over the snow, and just as it lit the room well enough, Farrell emerged from the shadows. She flashed a small smile and handed him a folded piece of parchment before walking out of the common room.
Harry curiously looked at the parchment, it was addressed to "Harry Potter," in neat, spiraling, calligraphy. When he flipped it over he found it to be sealed with green wax and stamped with the initials FMB. He broke the seal and gently unfolded the parchment. He drew in his breath in awe. On the paper before his eyes was the most beautiful painting he's ever seen. It was of him, only a few minutes ago, raising his head from his book to stare at the rising sun. He touched the painting softly. It was painted with oil paints, and they were dry. It was impossible to think that Farrell had drawn, painted, and let this picture dry within ten minutes. How could she? Then he noticed that underneath the picture, written in the same calligraphy as on the front, was, " Will you come to the ball with me?"
Harry crept upstairs, grabbed a quill, piece of parchment, and wax seal and went back down. When he was finished with the parchment, he dropped something in it and sealed it, then walked down to breakfast. Farrell was sitting at the Gryffindor table alone, for there was just about no one in the Great Hall this early. She was so bored that had transfigured the milk jug into a little waltzing couple and the couple (rather the milk jug) was dancing up and down the table. Harry grinned and pulled out his wand. When the couple got to the far end of the table he made the letter stick to it. The couple traveled back to Farrell and she took the letter off of it. She absentmindedly turned the couple back into a milk jug and opened the letter. A small lily fell into her lap. She looked around to see if Harry was there, but she couldn't see him. She began to read the letter.
Dear Farrell,
How can you know me so well? We've only just met, but you can see me. Most people just assume things because I'm …well….I have a reputation. but….you can really see me. You can see the part of me that's invisible to everybody else. I'd love to go to the ball with you, you're the most amazing girl I've ever met.
Yours truly,
Harry Potter
Farrell dropped the letter on the table, astonished. For a minute all she could do was stare at it. Then her open jaw turned to a tight lipped frown which transformed to a slightly curved line, which evolved to a tiny smirk that broke into a full out, beaming grin that made Farrell's face shine like she'd swallowed the sun.
Disclaimer: anything you recognize belongs to J.K Rowling, and anything left over is mine. Thank you for reading. Enjoy!
For the first few weeks of school, Farrell couldn't go anywhere without being accompanied by Ron, Harry, or Hermione. She learned this the hard way o her second day while trying to get to divination by herself and got so completely lost that she not only missed divination, but charms and dinner also. She only found her way back when she recognized that out the window to her left was Hagrid's cottage, and she just walked in that direction all the way back to the entrance hall.
Within that first month or so, Farrell met so many interesting people and learned more amazing things than she'd ever even thought possible. Her classes, she thought, were absolutely wonderful, whether she disliked the teacher or the class itself or not. For example, though she was a terror at charms (on her first day, while attempting to cast a cheering charm on Harry, she made him cry for about three and a half hours. Professor Flitwick had to lead him into a small, warmly lit room and made Farrell sit with him the entire time, trying to cheer him up without magic) she adored Professor Flitwick and simply loved to watch what charms her classmates had successfully preformed. The strangest thing about classes to her was how well she did in divination. She'd never even seen the book before, yet she knew every answer to Professor Trelawney's questions. She could see the crystal ball, she could see the tea leaves, and she'd never yet lied. Parvati and Lavendar were not glad to have her in class, but she only wished she could do so well in charms and herbology.
There were a few odd things that didn't make sense to Farrell, though, specifically things that one wouldn't usually notice. For instance, the way that Professor McGonagall looked at her sometimes in class when she thought that Farrell wasn't looking. It was as though she was trying to get to know Farrell by staring at her from over the rims of those square spectacles she wore. Another odd thing was how Dumbledore, the headmaster, constantly popped up out of nowhere, and almost always found Harry around to have a quick word with. Upon overhearing snippets of their conversations, Farrell picked up quite a few confusing things. The weirdest one was how they both often talked of something or someone called "snuffles". " Have you talked to snuffles lately?" Harry would whisper to Dumbledore. Farrell would just stand several feet away, pretending to be extremely interested in the wall or painting nearby.
One night in late October, while the chill wind whistled past the windows of the drafty Gryffindor common room, Farrell sat in an armchair near the fire, trying her best to keep warm while she breezed through her transfiguration essay, her eyes glinting behind her small, rectangular reading glasses.
Harry sat about three chairs behind, not wanting to disturb her, but inwardly dying to rush up and sit an inch from the edge of the hearth. The common room was completely empty save the two of them and a small second year in the far back, seeing if she could freeze her cup of water from back there.
Farrell rubbed her icy hands together, " damn the first frost. Stupid, stupid first frost," she muttered.
Behind her, due to her very sensitive ears, she could hear Harry's teeth chattering.
" For heaven's sake, Potter, come closer to the fire before you turn into Potter the Popsicle," she said loudly. Shaking her head as he slowly walked up and sat beside her, she looked down and continued her essay.
"how many rolls have you done?" he asked, looking at the stack of filled in parchment about as thick as a small book beside her.
" oh…I'd say about 7, " she replied, not taking her eyes off her eighth roll, he quill moving easily along the paper.
" seven!? We're only required 2!" said Harry, astonished.
Farrell finally looked up, her eyebrow raised. What she saw made her jaw nearly fall off. Harry was sitting in the armchair next to her in jeans and a tee shirt. She was wearing three shirts, a sweater, and pants under her robes, plus a scarf for her face.
" What is wrong with you!?" she said to him. He just looked back with a puzzled expression.
"no wonder you're freezing! Geez. And I just thought you were as cold as I am, but you must be numb…," she said softly as she ducked inside her robe and pulled off her top sweater and scarf. She threw them to him.
" Put these on. Now."
Harry took them and obediently put them on, and some of the color returned to his face.
"Thank you," he said, blushing, " but…you've got other things on, haven't you? Because if you haven't I certainly can't-"
" of course I have, don't be a nitwit. Only insane people like you come down in short sleeves when its 20 degrees inside," she said, rolling her eyes at him. Suddenly, she blushed and put the finishing sentence on her last page. She rolled up all of the parchment, tied it with a brown cord, and stored it in her knapsack. Though it was very late, and she had no work left, she could not compel herself to go up to her dormitory, for, even though they weren't talking, or even looking at eachother, just sitting beside Harry and feeling his presence made her feel as though everything was alright.
She thought about how she'd heard him talking to Dumbledore earlier today and had heard the word "snuffles" again. She decided it was time to ask Harry what snuffles was.
" Harry?" asked Farrell, looking over at him.
"Hmm?"
" Who is Snuffles?"
Whatever Harry had expected her to ask him, it certainly was not that. He didn't even think about lying to Farrell. He looked her right in the eyes, bewildered.
" How did you…."
"I'm not deaf you know, and you're not a very soft talker, if you haven't noticed, " said Farrell, staring right back at him, her face set.
Harry sighed and looked around him, " we can't discuss this here," he said, pulling off her sweater and scarf, " I'll be right back- stay here and put these on, " he threw the sweater and scarf at her, " and be ready." As he walked away she could have sworn she heard, " this is definitely going to alarm Sirius…"
Farrell nodded as he stood and climbed the stairs to the boys dorm.
" this must be much deeper than I'd imagined, " thought Farrell as she pulled her gloves from her knapsack and put them on.
Within a minute Harry appeared at the bottom of the staircase, carrying three cloaks.
" are Ron and Hermione coming?" asked Farrell, counting the cloaks.
" no, " replied Harry, " one is for you, one is for me, and one is for both of us."
" What?"
" take off your robe," he said, disregarding her question and checking his watch. It read 12:09, they hadn't much time.
" pardon me, but I do not strip down for yours or anyone else's amusement," Farrell stuttered, astonished.
" oh no! its just that, if you wear it, it will be soaked from yesterday's puddles, and that's just something else you've got to wash, that's why I brought you a cloak, " laughed Harry, handing her the black cloak.
"oh," she said, blushing as she pulled off her black robe, revealing slender legs and a slim figure covered by khaki pants and several shirts and a sweater, all in different shades of brown and tan. Harry stared while she fastened the clips on the cloak.
"can I ask you something?" said Harry. Farrell nodded in reply.
" Do you always wear clothes that match your eyes?"
Farrell blushed deeply and shook her head. With that Harry grinned and looked back at her eyes.
"Well, its very pretty…." Then he cleared his throat and blushed, " er … we should go, so…come here, " he said, beckoning her forward. She hesitated, but moved forward, and Harry draped the silver cloak over both of them, and they walked together through the halls and out of the castle. When they got out to the lake, Harry began to explain the entire story of Sirius showing up in his third year and telling Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Professors Lupin and Dumbledore of his innocence. He revealed that snuffles was a sort of code name for Sirius, and he was to meet him this very night, for that was where he and Farrell were headed.
"And that was why you were sitting in the common room so late, with nothing to do?" asked Farrell, her mind nearly exploding with all of the information she had just consumed.
"exactly," he said, reaching out a stick to hit the secret knot of the Whomping Willow.
They walked through the hole and up the tunnel to the shrieking shack. Before they entered the room Sirius had told Harry to be, Harry removed the invisibility cloak and had Farrell stand back, just in case. He knocked on the door three times. In response, there was one knock from inside and Harry swung the door open, motioning for Farrell to wait.
A tall man with cleanly cut black hair stood just inside, close enough for Farrell to see. Though when she looked at his eyes, she was startled. They had a look of something extinguished, like the burnt remains of logs after a fire has been put out. She saw Harry walk in, and he and Sirius greeted eachother with smiles and Sirius sat down.
" Sirius, I've brought someone I'd like you to meet," said Harry.
Sirius looked at him, confused, " Harry…you haven't told people of me, have you?"
"Of course not, the person I've brought is a good friend of mine, just like Ron and Hermione, and I want you two to meet, seeing as you're the closest I have to family."
Sirius just cocked his head to the side inquisitively.
"You can come in now, " said Harry, smiling and beckoning Farrell into the room.
Sirius shifted his gaze from Harry to the petite form by the door. Farrell slowly walked in, her gloved hands clasped together, her eyes glittering behind her reading glasses ( she'd forgotten to take them off in all this excitement).
She stopped several feet in front of Sirius, gave a tiny smile and said, " hello, " in her softest voice.
To Harry's immense surprise, Sirius went slightly pale and just gaped at Farrell like a ghost. Farrell could hear him say ," holy Merlin, " under his breath.
Harry looked at Sirius, perplexed.
" What is it?" Harry asked.
"What's her name?, " asked Sirius, not taking his eyes off of Farrell.
Farrell looked absolutely shocked, but looked right at Sirius.
"My name is Farrell, sir. Farrell Branwen."
Sirius stood, and walked closer to her, " You say your name is Branwen?"
"Y-yes…," answered Farrell, wondering whether this man was fully sane.
" and your name is not Betsy?"
" no, sir. My name is Farrell, as I told you."
Sirius sat down again, and whether he was sane or not again flittered through Farrell's mind as she watched him.
" well…its just that…you're the spitting image of…a very old friend of mine, and you've the same name as a woman I once met at a party with James Potter…and, unless its sheer coincidence, you're her daughter, to be sure- you have the same eyes. "
"what are you talking about, Sirius? Lots of people have eyes that look alike," said Harry.
" If you looked at this girl's eyes, Harry- and I mean truly looked at them, you'd know that they're one of a kind….well…they used to be two of a kind, perhaps even three, but no more than that, I know."
Harry looked at Farrell and nodded in agreement.
Then he turned to face Farrell again, " Was your mother's name Betsy?"
Farrell's eyes widened, " yes sir. Elizabeth."
Sirius sighed. Then he clapped his hands together and gave Farrell a warm smile, " I'm so sorry I did that. It was disrespectful towards you. I apologize. It's nice to meet you, Farrell, I'm Sirius, " he said, extending his hand.
"Pleased to meet you, Sirius, " she replied shakily, taking his hand.
From there on the conversation was typical for a while, school, work, and such. Then Harry brought up a topic that seemed to have been bothering him for some time.
"Any leads with the death eaters?" Harry asked.
"Funny you should ask," said Sirius, digging through his pocket," since we found something just today. Four or five of these ," he pulled a slip or parchment out of his pocket, " in a dark alley in London. They seem to be a prophecy of some type. We can't make heads or tails of it though."
He handed Harry the parchment fragment and Farrell leaned in to read it.
It read:
Where strangers turn to blood
And those relatives join up
And on swift wings escape the flood
But lose the treasure from their cup
Where friends and foes must all unite
To win the battle, fight the fight
In this place of fear and pain
The lightning child shall still remain
He'll fight a battle, and win alone
But the dark enemy has not gone
To win the fight forevermore
Lightning and seer together must soar
Over the unseen town of which the treasure was for
Over the city of forgotten folklore.
Farrell quickly pulled a small notepad and quill from her pocket and copied it down.
"I don't know, Sirius, it doesn't make any sense to me," said Harry, shrugging and handing the paper back to Sirius. Just then he glanced at his watch.
"oh! We really have to go, Farrell, " Harry said.
"Well, alright, goodbye, you two. Nice meeting you Farrell, " said Sirius. He gave Harry a hug and proceeded to put on his cloak.
"Excuse me, Sirius, " said Farrell, still standing by the door.
" Yes?" Sirius replied questioningly.
" who was the old friend of yours you said I look like?"
" well… actually you would know her, considering you go to Hogwarts. You're a spitting image of Minerva McGonagall at 16. though you're only fifteen, but one couldn't tell, you know?"
"Professor McGonagall? Head of Gryffindor?"
"That's her, " said Sirius with a smile, " but you should be going now, or you'll be discovered. Goodbye Farrell."
"goodbye, " said Farrell as she ran down the passage to Harry, who was waiting for her.
They walked back to the castle together and each went back to their dormitory for their hour or so of sleep before lessons.
In the morning before breakfast, Ron walked down to meet Hermione as usual.
Seeing that Harry wasn't with Ron, Hermione walked up to him and asked, " Ron, where's Harry?"
"Oh, he looked horrible this morning, almost ill, so I left him alone. Where's Farrell?"
"That's what's odd. She looked like she hadn't slept at all, so I left her, but put a spell over her bed so that her covers roll back and her drapes open. I wonder what she was doing all night…"
Ron shrugged, " lets go."
So Ron and Hermione headed down to the great hall. Half an hour later, Farrell woke rather unpleasantly by the morning sun in her eyes and her bed trying to make itself while she was in it. She jumped out of bed and saw the note on the bedside cabinet and put on her glasses to read it.
Dear Farrell,
Good morning! Come down to breakfast as soon as possible, but only if you feel well. If you're ill, just go to the hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey will fix you up.
See you in class,
Hermione
Farrell looked at her wristwatch and quickly jumped up and dressed. She grabbed her knapsack and ran up to the boys dorms.
"hey Harry!!!!" she yelled through the wooden door. No answer came.
" shnikes! Harry!! " she tried again. Finally she opened the door quietly and walked in to where Harry was sleeping.
She softly tapped him and said as gently as she could, " Haaaarry….come on, we're going to be late…"
He stirred and opened his eyes. At first he smiled and then he put his glasses on and turned beet red.
" geez! Whaddya think you're doing?" he asked, getting up.
" making sure you don't miss Transfiguration completely, lets go, you're making us late," she replied laughing, " I'll meet you in the common room, " she said as she raced down the stairs.
Harry shook his head and dressed. He was down a minute later, still looking as groggy as he had the first moment he'd opened his eyes. Farrell didn't look much better, but she had her wits and sense of humor about her.
" ah, prince charming emerges, " she joked and walked toward the portrait hole.
All Harry had to say to that was, " hmph."
When they plopped down in seats opposite Ron and Hermione, no one spoke, but Ron and Hermione just stared.
Ron finally said, after they'd started to eat ," you two look like you've been trampled by a hippogriff."
Hermione almost choked on her roll, this seemed so funny to her. Ron slammed her on the back with one of his hands and gave Harry the "I-think-she's-gone-insane-since-that-wasn't-funny" look. Harry just rolled his eyes and tried to revive himself a bit over some porridge. Farrell had a cup of tea and was back to whistling and being happy that they had transfiguration first- her normal self. When she watched Harry's head drooping towards his porridge bowl she decided not to stop him and let him have a bit of a wake up call. And that he did have. His head pitched forward and fell right into his bowl of goopy porridge with a little 'plop' sound. It took Harry a few seconds to realize his head was in a bowl of porridge, but when he did the result was spectacularly hilarious. He jerked upright with an " ACK!" and a whole bunch of spluttering noises. Ron, Hermione, Farrell, and just about everyone at the Gryffindor table was howling with laughter. Farrell was laughing so hard that it was difficult for her to hand Harry a napkin. After he'd wiped his face off, though he was blushing, he couldn't help but laugh too. Farrell noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that professor Dumbledore was laughing too.
When Hermione regained her powers of speech, she said, " well Harry, now that you're awake, can we go to Transfiguration?" which sent them all off again. They staggered from the table, clutching their stomachs and walked off to Transfiguration.
~
After what she'd heard from Sirius she just couldn't look at Professor McGonagall the same way. She was constantly staring at her, and when their eyes met for some reason or another, she just couldn't look away out of curiosity. There was a familiarity with those eyes, but Farrell just couldn't place it. She didn't know how, since her mother died when she was 2 years old, but for some reason Professor McGonagall seemed to remind her of her mother.
Almost every day, Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Farrell sat in the library poring over huge books, trying to make sense of the prophecy they had received from Sirius ( Harry and Farrell had spent quite a long time explaining everything that had gone on in their brief meeting with Sirius). October, November, and half of December had passed, but they'd learned nothing. One day in mid-December, Hermione pointed out a notice on the wall of the Gryffindor common room. It was an invitation for all fourth years and above to attend the Yule ball. The four friends kind of shrugged it off, not quite thinking about it, since there was still ten days until the ball. One lazy day, five days later, Harry was just sitting around in the near empty common room, losing in chess to Ron, when it occurred to Harry that he was running out of time to ask someone to the ball.
"Ron, who are you going to the ball with?" Harry asked, looking up at him after moving his knight.
"Check. Oh, I don't know," said Ron, shrugging, " but I suppose we should get a move on and ask someone, or we won't have dates."
Harry moved his king to the left, " good point…"
"mhmmm….checkmate. I win," said Ron, grinning.
"How unusual," said Harry as Hermione and Farrell walked down from the girls dormitory.
Ron swiveled around, " Hey, Hermione, where are you going?" he said, seeing her head for the portrait hole.
"oh, just out, " said Hermione, brushing one of her stray curls out of her eyes.
Ron stood up, " can I come?"
Hermione smiled, " sure."
Ron and Hermione walked out of the portrait hole and out onto the grounds. Though the ground was covered in snow, and they were not in cloaks, just sweaters and such, they did not mind. They just smiled and laughed and had a good time.
During a moment of silence, Ron looked over at Hermione.
"Do you remember that fight we had after the Yule Ball last year?" he said.
" yes"
" I didn't mean any of it, and I know that I never apologize, but I was thinking about it recently and you were right."
"right? Right about what?" Hermione said, confused.
" you said that I should have asked you before Viktor. And unless he's coming with you this year, that's what I plan to do."
Hermione blushed.
"Will you come to the ball with me, Hermione?"
Hermione smiled at him and bent down to the ground. Ron thought she was tying her shoe, but found that he was wrong when she stood and hit him in the chest with a snowball.
"ARG! What was that for?" asked Ron, confused.
"That was for being so pigheaded last Christmas, and this," she stood on tiptoe and gave him a kiss, "is for being such a gentleman this Christmas."
"So you'll come with me?" asked Ron, grinning.
Hermione gave a laugh, nodded, and took Ron's hand in hers as they walked back to the castle.
~
Back in the Common Room, Farrell and Harry were playing their second game of chess. In the first game Farrell had creamed Harry within ten minutes. She wondered whether he was letting her win. Most likely. Then they were distracted by the sight of Ron and Hermione entering the common room. They were holding hands, Ron had remnants of a snowball on the front of his sweater, and they were both laughing. Ron looked at Harry and winked before sitting on the couch beside Hermione.
Farrell looked at Harry, raised her eyebrows and whispered, " told you so."
Harry grinned, moved his bishop and said, " Checkmate."
~
Harry awoke early the next morning and headed downstairs with a book and read by the fire. He watched the sun rise over the snow, and just as it lit the room well enough, Farrell emerged from the shadows. She flashed a small smile and handed him a folded piece of parchment before walking out of the common room.
Harry curiously looked at the parchment, it was addressed to "Harry Potter," in neat, spiraling, calligraphy. When he flipped it over he found it to be sealed with green wax and stamped with the initials FMB. He broke the seal and gently unfolded the parchment. He drew in his breath in awe. On the paper before his eyes was the most beautiful painting he's ever seen. It was of him, only a few minutes ago, raising his head from his book to stare at the rising sun. He touched the painting softly. It was painted with oil paints, and they were dry. It was impossible to think that Farrell had drawn, painted, and let this picture dry within ten minutes. How could she? Then he noticed that underneath the picture, written in the same calligraphy as on the front, was, " Will you come to the ball with me?"
Harry crept upstairs, grabbed a quill, piece of parchment, and wax seal and went back down. When he was finished with the parchment, he dropped something in it and sealed it, then walked down to breakfast. Farrell was sitting at the Gryffindor table alone, for there was just about no one in the Great Hall this early. She was so bored that had transfigured the milk jug into a little waltzing couple and the couple (rather the milk jug) was dancing up and down the table. Harry grinned and pulled out his wand. When the couple got to the far end of the table he made the letter stick to it. The couple traveled back to Farrell and she took the letter off of it. She absentmindedly turned the couple back into a milk jug and opened the letter. A small lily fell into her lap. She looked around to see if Harry was there, but she couldn't see him. She began to read the letter.
Dear Farrell,
How can you know me so well? We've only just met, but you can see me. Most people just assume things because I'm …well….I have a reputation. but….you can really see me. You can see the part of me that's invisible to everybody else. I'd love to go to the ball with you, you're the most amazing girl I've ever met.
Yours truly,
Harry Potter
Farrell dropped the letter on the table, astonished. For a minute all she could do was stare at it. Then her open jaw turned to a tight lipped frown which transformed to a slightly curved line, which evolved to a tiny smirk that broke into a full out, beaming grin that made Farrell's face shine like she'd swallowed the sun.