A/N: This is my first foray into the world of fan fiction writing, so please feel free to deposit your constructive criticism. Also, I imagine that this story will become very involved, most likely spanning 2 full years at Hogwarts. Hope you enjoy.
Dimensions
Chapter 1: Covered in Blood
He found her crumpled, a quivering and bloody pile, at the very edge of the Forbidden Forest. He couldn't tell how long she'd been lying there, but it appeared from the dirt caked upon her still blood-sticky wrist wounds, she's crawled a few feet before ultimately collapsing. She wore muggle clothes, a once white collared button down shirt, turned a disgusting deep brown. The same blood that stained her clothing had matted her short cropped hair to the point that he couldn't tell if her tresses were red or simply discoloured by the gruesome dye. Her breathe came in shallow wheezes as Hagrid lifted her up and made quickly for the castle.
********************
The day's final rays of sunshine had been flickering behind the black curtain of the forest as Hagrid worked cheerfully outside his cabin, preparing meals for the corral of tele-kats he had rounded up for the year's first lesson. Tele-kats were finicky eaters, much like their feline ancestors. Some lounged listlessly, and others playfully batted at their own long, feathered tails as Hagrid sloshed the mixture of fermented pumpkin juice and chicken hearts into their shiny silver dishes. One by one they began to take notice of their meal, and the sound of thick blue tongues lapping greedily broke the stillness of the twilight.
Hagrid wanted to make sure that the often temperamental felines were in a good mood come time for the students to handle them. The injury of a particularly nasty student at the beak of a hippogriff two years prior had caused Hagrid to lose some of his nerve where his classes were concerned. He had planned on playing it safe again this year as well, until Headmaster Dumbledore visited him for tea and treacle fudge a week ago.
"Hagrid," said the esteemed Headmaster, after swallowing a particularly leathery piece of fudge, "I was thinking that you may want to start the year off with a more unusual member of the kingdom Animalia Magica this year. Some nights, I've heard the unmistakable call of a tele-kat issuing from the forest; if you could manage to coax a few of them out, it would be a rare treat for your students indeed."
"Er, I don't know 'bout that, Professor," faltered the gentle gamekeeper. "Tele-kats, they tend ter' get a bit....touchy. I wouldn't want another accident..." Hagrid trailed off, his eyes beginning to mist at the memory of the incident that had almost claimed the life of his favourite hippogriff.
"Is that still plaguing your mind, my dear Hagrid?" Dumbledore queried softly. He knew Hagrid's affection for what he liked to call his "wee beasties" was eclipsed only by his love for Hogwarts, and that the gamekeeper prized the safety of the young wizards and witches at the school over anything else in the world. That was why, he reflected, it is so important to reassure him in this matter. Why he'll end up playing such a large role in the days ahead.
"I just don't want...that is ter say, I would hate if a child was to be hurt in my care again. And with all this..." he waved his gigantic arms expansively "other such stuff goin' on, ye' don't need ter be worrin' about a tele-kat snapping someun's hand off."
"The 'other stuff' is precisely why I need you to make the extra effort in your classes this year. To take a few risks. As you know, with Voldemort's reawakening, the other professors are going to be concerning themselves with instructing students in self-preservation techniques. How to battle, and of course defend against the agents of dark magic will be the primary focus. We are, after all, at war." Dumbledore paused to allow himself a weary sigh. The tragedy at the end of last year's tri-wizard tournament had certainly taken it's toll. The professors, who usually spent the summer holidays relaxing away from Hogwarts, had be forced to confine themselves to the castle and the surrounding village. The long days and sleepless nights had been spent developing stronger magical protections for the school, and preparing for a year sure to be filled with more than a bit of pain and suffering. The students themselves would be reconvening classes a month early, in order to have the young wizards (especially those muggle born) back in the safe care of their teachers. The forces of evil were escalating fast.
"Your responsibility, however" Dumbledore continued, "is to help remind our up and comers of how pure and beautiful magic is. These creatures that you love, they are at the core of everything we are. Let these magnificent beasts fill our student's hearts with wonder; let them take a break from all the dreariness to appreciate and enjoy the magical connection between wizard and creature. Teach them to care for something out of love, so that amidst their fear and uncertainty, they will not forget what the emotion is like. Teach them that there's more to who we are than warding off the darkness." Dumbledore's voice broke toward the end of his speech, belying his usual calm delivery. Hagrid could tell that his treasured Headmaster's heart was heavy.
The summer had indeed been a difficult one, but the jaunty gamekeeper remained blessedly free of the pervasively sombre cloud that seemed to hang about the school. It wasn't that Hagrid was unconcerned about the rising of the dark lord; far from it. He simply had every confidence that Albus Dumbledore, widely regarded as the greatest wizard of all time, would see them through the crisis. His only fearful thoughts lingered from time to time on young Harry Potter, a student and a dear friend, and the role he had yet to play in the dark lord's demise.
"Aye, but Dumbledore seys I got an import'nt part ter play, and I'm proud ter play it!" he thought aloud as he ladled the last bit of pungent feed into a tele-kat's glistening dish. A smattering of stars began to twinkle in the sky over head, and as Hagrid rinsed his hands at the pump, her heard the familiar whine of his hound Fang. Fang was a few feet away, heading toward him from the Forbidden Forest in an agitated state.
"Whas' der matter, Fang?" asked Hagrid as he absentmindedly patted the huge hound's head. For a beast of his immense size, Fang was quite the coward.
The petting did not calm him, however, and as Hagrid inclined his head toward the Forbidden Forest, he noticed the hound's reason for discomfort. On the outskirts there lay a heap the size of a small human.
"What der heck?" he muttered under his breath, as he strode off to investigate.
********************
Hagrid broke into a full run, nearly tripping over his own thick giant's feet as he attempted to double his speed toward the castle. The nearly lifeless body bobbed helplessly against his chest. The castle stairs were taken two at a time in his haste, and as he rammed his shoulder into the heavy door he nearly toppled a very perturbed looking Professor Snape. The Potion's Master was about to spear Hagrid with a cutting remark when he noticed the pathetic bundle the man was cradling.
"What, or who, is that?" Snape spat with disgust, not able to take his eyes off of the bloody mass.
"I...don't....know...Professor," managed an out of breath Hagrid. His voice shook with emotion. "Found her by the forest, gave poor Fang a fright. Professor, I never seen somethin' so..."
"Do stop the blubbering, Hagrid!" yelled Snape, aghast. "Take...that to Poppy, and I'll fetch the headmaster." After issuing the command, Snape whirled around and made off towards Dumbledore's quarters. A still quaking and gasping Hagrid fled to the infirmary.
"Jus' hold on there, girlie." Hagrid hoarsely whispered. "Jus' hold on."
********************
"Do any of you recognise this girl?" asked Dumbledore of the assembled. Professor's Snape and McGonagal, along with medi-witch Poppy Pomfrey, clamoured around the mysterious girl's bed. Her blood stained lineaments had been replaced with a clean white hospital gown, though her scalp remained caked in red. One by one, they each shook their heads.
"What is your prognosis Poppy?" Dumbledore queried further.
"Well," answered Madame Pomfrey, nervously adjusting the folds of her cornflower blue robe. "The wounds on her wrist appear to be self inflicted. She lost a great deal of blood, but I gave her a transfusing draught that should cause her remaining blood cells to multiple. Rapidly."
"Is that why she's unconscious? The blood loss?" questioned Professor McGonagal.
"Erm, no," answered Madame Pomfrey. She cleared her throat, and continued. "You see the blood in her hair? Her skull is mildly fracture, there on the side..." she adjusted the girl's hair so that the other's could see. "The bone healed without difficulty, but the blow knocked her unconscious. The wand scan didn't reveal any major brain trauma, but we won't be sure until she awakes."
"So someone attacked her?" pressed Dumbledore.
"I thought about that, headmaster. But I also noticed a cracked rib or two here..."she gestured in the area of the broken bones, "and her left femur was also fractured. You see? All on the left side. Judging by the position of the breaks, I'd say that she wasn't assaulted...rather, she fell."
"Fell?" asked a concerned Professor McGonagal. "Are you saying that this poor girl tried to...to terminate herself?"
Snape let out a snort of laughter. "Yes Minerva," he countered sarcastically. "This wretched little creature sliced open her wrists, and when that failed to do the job, she tossed herself off a balcony somewhere. No no, suicides don't routinely come crawling out of the Forbidden Forest. There is another explanation."
"Snape, however discourteous in his assertion, is correct," replied Madame Pomfrey, while shooting a disapproving glance at the smug Professor Snape. "Notice that the cuts are further up the wrist, and that they are horizontal instead of vertical. The wounds were not inflicted with the intent to kill. Also, judging from her other injuries, I doubt the precipice she tumbled from was high enough to produce a fatal drop. Unfortunately, I can't offer you any explanations. We'll just have to ask her when she wakes up." The medi-witch's voice took on a tone that the other's recognised as annoyance at having her patient disturbed. They filed out of the room, perplexed, leaving with more questions than answers.
"Please inform me as soon as the girl regains consciousness," requested Dumbledore, before he slid out the infirmary door.
********************
In the ruins of a dank Bulgarian castle, an ominous sound could be heard echoing through the corridors. A hiss, silky and intoxicating, wafted around the corners until it met with the ears of one Peter Pettigrew. Knowing the call of his master, Peter made a mad dash to Voldemort's sitting room.
"You h-h-have need of me, m-m-master?" Petigrew stammered.
"Come closer," the dark voice whispered, sending cold chills down the servant's spine.
"I want you to dispatch 3 of my loyalest Death Eaters, one to Hogwarts, one to Durmstrang, one to Beauxbatons. There is...a presence. Something...strong. Something powerful. I want them to locate this presence. It," the dark lord paused. Eerily translucent eyelids slid down over his fierce red slits as he contemplated his vision. "She". Yes, she." He smiled maniacally. "She will be found. She will be brought to me."
"Is t-t-this, erm, girl," the servant began, "is she a threat to your r-r-reign."
The dark lord Voldemort threw back his head, shaking tendrils of ebony black hair as his face contorted in unnatural laughter. "Nooooooooo" came the hissed reply. "She is the key. She will bring about their undoing. "She, he lowered his voice, accentuating every syllable, "will make the universe scream."
Dimensions
Chapter 1: Covered in Blood
He found her crumpled, a quivering and bloody pile, at the very edge of the Forbidden Forest. He couldn't tell how long she'd been lying there, but it appeared from the dirt caked upon her still blood-sticky wrist wounds, she's crawled a few feet before ultimately collapsing. She wore muggle clothes, a once white collared button down shirt, turned a disgusting deep brown. The same blood that stained her clothing had matted her short cropped hair to the point that he couldn't tell if her tresses were red or simply discoloured by the gruesome dye. Her breathe came in shallow wheezes as Hagrid lifted her up and made quickly for the castle.
********************
The day's final rays of sunshine had been flickering behind the black curtain of the forest as Hagrid worked cheerfully outside his cabin, preparing meals for the corral of tele-kats he had rounded up for the year's first lesson. Tele-kats were finicky eaters, much like their feline ancestors. Some lounged listlessly, and others playfully batted at their own long, feathered tails as Hagrid sloshed the mixture of fermented pumpkin juice and chicken hearts into their shiny silver dishes. One by one they began to take notice of their meal, and the sound of thick blue tongues lapping greedily broke the stillness of the twilight.
Hagrid wanted to make sure that the often temperamental felines were in a good mood come time for the students to handle them. The injury of a particularly nasty student at the beak of a hippogriff two years prior had caused Hagrid to lose some of his nerve where his classes were concerned. He had planned on playing it safe again this year as well, until Headmaster Dumbledore visited him for tea and treacle fudge a week ago.
"Hagrid," said the esteemed Headmaster, after swallowing a particularly leathery piece of fudge, "I was thinking that you may want to start the year off with a more unusual member of the kingdom Animalia Magica this year. Some nights, I've heard the unmistakable call of a tele-kat issuing from the forest; if you could manage to coax a few of them out, it would be a rare treat for your students indeed."
"Er, I don't know 'bout that, Professor," faltered the gentle gamekeeper. "Tele-kats, they tend ter' get a bit....touchy. I wouldn't want another accident..." Hagrid trailed off, his eyes beginning to mist at the memory of the incident that had almost claimed the life of his favourite hippogriff.
"Is that still plaguing your mind, my dear Hagrid?" Dumbledore queried softly. He knew Hagrid's affection for what he liked to call his "wee beasties" was eclipsed only by his love for Hogwarts, and that the gamekeeper prized the safety of the young wizards and witches at the school over anything else in the world. That was why, he reflected, it is so important to reassure him in this matter. Why he'll end up playing such a large role in the days ahead.
"I just don't want...that is ter say, I would hate if a child was to be hurt in my care again. And with all this..." he waved his gigantic arms expansively "other such stuff goin' on, ye' don't need ter be worrin' about a tele-kat snapping someun's hand off."
"The 'other stuff' is precisely why I need you to make the extra effort in your classes this year. To take a few risks. As you know, with Voldemort's reawakening, the other professors are going to be concerning themselves with instructing students in self-preservation techniques. How to battle, and of course defend against the agents of dark magic will be the primary focus. We are, after all, at war." Dumbledore paused to allow himself a weary sigh. The tragedy at the end of last year's tri-wizard tournament had certainly taken it's toll. The professors, who usually spent the summer holidays relaxing away from Hogwarts, had be forced to confine themselves to the castle and the surrounding village. The long days and sleepless nights had been spent developing stronger magical protections for the school, and preparing for a year sure to be filled with more than a bit of pain and suffering. The students themselves would be reconvening classes a month early, in order to have the young wizards (especially those muggle born) back in the safe care of their teachers. The forces of evil were escalating fast.
"Your responsibility, however" Dumbledore continued, "is to help remind our up and comers of how pure and beautiful magic is. These creatures that you love, they are at the core of everything we are. Let these magnificent beasts fill our student's hearts with wonder; let them take a break from all the dreariness to appreciate and enjoy the magical connection between wizard and creature. Teach them to care for something out of love, so that amidst their fear and uncertainty, they will not forget what the emotion is like. Teach them that there's more to who we are than warding off the darkness." Dumbledore's voice broke toward the end of his speech, belying his usual calm delivery. Hagrid could tell that his treasured Headmaster's heart was heavy.
The summer had indeed been a difficult one, but the jaunty gamekeeper remained blessedly free of the pervasively sombre cloud that seemed to hang about the school. It wasn't that Hagrid was unconcerned about the rising of the dark lord; far from it. He simply had every confidence that Albus Dumbledore, widely regarded as the greatest wizard of all time, would see them through the crisis. His only fearful thoughts lingered from time to time on young Harry Potter, a student and a dear friend, and the role he had yet to play in the dark lord's demise.
"Aye, but Dumbledore seys I got an import'nt part ter play, and I'm proud ter play it!" he thought aloud as he ladled the last bit of pungent feed into a tele-kat's glistening dish. A smattering of stars began to twinkle in the sky over head, and as Hagrid rinsed his hands at the pump, her heard the familiar whine of his hound Fang. Fang was a few feet away, heading toward him from the Forbidden Forest in an agitated state.
"Whas' der matter, Fang?" asked Hagrid as he absentmindedly patted the huge hound's head. For a beast of his immense size, Fang was quite the coward.
The petting did not calm him, however, and as Hagrid inclined his head toward the Forbidden Forest, he noticed the hound's reason for discomfort. On the outskirts there lay a heap the size of a small human.
"What der heck?" he muttered under his breath, as he strode off to investigate.
********************
Hagrid broke into a full run, nearly tripping over his own thick giant's feet as he attempted to double his speed toward the castle. The nearly lifeless body bobbed helplessly against his chest. The castle stairs were taken two at a time in his haste, and as he rammed his shoulder into the heavy door he nearly toppled a very perturbed looking Professor Snape. The Potion's Master was about to spear Hagrid with a cutting remark when he noticed the pathetic bundle the man was cradling.
"What, or who, is that?" Snape spat with disgust, not able to take his eyes off of the bloody mass.
"I...don't....know...Professor," managed an out of breath Hagrid. His voice shook with emotion. "Found her by the forest, gave poor Fang a fright. Professor, I never seen somethin' so..."
"Do stop the blubbering, Hagrid!" yelled Snape, aghast. "Take...that to Poppy, and I'll fetch the headmaster." After issuing the command, Snape whirled around and made off towards Dumbledore's quarters. A still quaking and gasping Hagrid fled to the infirmary.
"Jus' hold on there, girlie." Hagrid hoarsely whispered. "Jus' hold on."
********************
"Do any of you recognise this girl?" asked Dumbledore of the assembled. Professor's Snape and McGonagal, along with medi-witch Poppy Pomfrey, clamoured around the mysterious girl's bed. Her blood stained lineaments had been replaced with a clean white hospital gown, though her scalp remained caked in red. One by one, they each shook their heads.
"What is your prognosis Poppy?" Dumbledore queried further.
"Well," answered Madame Pomfrey, nervously adjusting the folds of her cornflower blue robe. "The wounds on her wrist appear to be self inflicted. She lost a great deal of blood, but I gave her a transfusing draught that should cause her remaining blood cells to multiple. Rapidly."
"Is that why she's unconscious? The blood loss?" questioned Professor McGonagal.
"Erm, no," answered Madame Pomfrey. She cleared her throat, and continued. "You see the blood in her hair? Her skull is mildly fracture, there on the side..." she adjusted the girl's hair so that the other's could see. "The bone healed without difficulty, but the blow knocked her unconscious. The wand scan didn't reveal any major brain trauma, but we won't be sure until she awakes."
"So someone attacked her?" pressed Dumbledore.
"I thought about that, headmaster. But I also noticed a cracked rib or two here..."she gestured in the area of the broken bones, "and her left femur was also fractured. You see? All on the left side. Judging by the position of the breaks, I'd say that she wasn't assaulted...rather, she fell."
"Fell?" asked a concerned Professor McGonagal. "Are you saying that this poor girl tried to...to terminate herself?"
Snape let out a snort of laughter. "Yes Minerva," he countered sarcastically. "This wretched little creature sliced open her wrists, and when that failed to do the job, she tossed herself off a balcony somewhere. No no, suicides don't routinely come crawling out of the Forbidden Forest. There is another explanation."
"Snape, however discourteous in his assertion, is correct," replied Madame Pomfrey, while shooting a disapproving glance at the smug Professor Snape. "Notice that the cuts are further up the wrist, and that they are horizontal instead of vertical. The wounds were not inflicted with the intent to kill. Also, judging from her other injuries, I doubt the precipice she tumbled from was high enough to produce a fatal drop. Unfortunately, I can't offer you any explanations. We'll just have to ask her when she wakes up." The medi-witch's voice took on a tone that the other's recognised as annoyance at having her patient disturbed. They filed out of the room, perplexed, leaving with more questions than answers.
"Please inform me as soon as the girl regains consciousness," requested Dumbledore, before he slid out the infirmary door.
********************
In the ruins of a dank Bulgarian castle, an ominous sound could be heard echoing through the corridors. A hiss, silky and intoxicating, wafted around the corners until it met with the ears of one Peter Pettigrew. Knowing the call of his master, Peter made a mad dash to Voldemort's sitting room.
"You h-h-have need of me, m-m-master?" Petigrew stammered.
"Come closer," the dark voice whispered, sending cold chills down the servant's spine.
"I want you to dispatch 3 of my loyalest Death Eaters, one to Hogwarts, one to Durmstrang, one to Beauxbatons. There is...a presence. Something...strong. Something powerful. I want them to locate this presence. It," the dark lord paused. Eerily translucent eyelids slid down over his fierce red slits as he contemplated his vision. "She". Yes, she." He smiled maniacally. "She will be found. She will be brought to me."
"Is t-t-this, erm, girl," the servant began, "is she a threat to your r-r-reign."
The dark lord Voldemort threw back his head, shaking tendrils of ebony black hair as his face contorted in unnatural laughter. "Nooooooooo" came the hissed reply. "She is the key. She will bring about their undoing. "She, he lowered his voice, accentuating every syllable, "will make the universe scream."