Disclaimer: obviously, I don't own any of this stuff (I think it's all
actually owned by Bloomsbury Books, Warner Brothers and J K the
magnificent). So don't sue me (it's not like there'd be any point anyway; I
don't have anything to take)
1 Chapter Three
Dusk swirled above the Great Hall in a whirlpool of peacock-coloured clouds and pure white stars. The windows were open to allow evening breezes, laden with the warmth of Southern sunshine, to wash through the darkening hall as the throng of fresh-faced students filled the waiting tables. Harry, Ron and Hermione installed themselves in their familiar spots near the back of the Hall and watched the last few people straggle in.
A silence descended upon the crowd as Hagrid led a troop of fidgety first years into the Hall, carrying a tattered old hat and a very precarious looking stool. Harry briefly wondered where Professor McGonagall was, as it was usually her who carried out the ritual sorting, but was distracted from his thinking by a tremendous roar of joy from his table as the first new student was sorted into Gryffindor. Each nervous eleven-year-old was received by a momentous cheer from their house table (except the Slytherin table who managed to make an innocent cheer sound something akin to the jeering of a crowd at an execution) and the hall was once again filled with the joyous echoes of a new school year after two months of silence.
The sorting took longer than usual as so many frightened parents had enrolled their children at the safe haven of Hogwarts. When most people were seated, Professor Dumbledore hushed the clamor by standing before them all. Harry couldn't help but be in awe of this kind-looking man, his smiling face surveying the petrified huddle of new first years. As the candle light sparkled in his clear blue eyes it was impossible to tell that this man was the only reason the wizards of the world could sleep at night without (too much) fear of Voldemort's return to power. The Ministry of Magic had continued to deny rumours of his ever-swelling dominance and the magical population had turned to Professor Dumbledore to lead them through this time of terror. Harry was still surprised that Dumbledore continued in his position as headmaster despite the troublesome burden of having to save the world. But as he cleared his throat to address his enraptured audience there was no weariness in his air, no sadness in his smile.
"Welcome, welcome to a brand new year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For those of you don't know, I am Albus Dumbledore, your headmaster."
"What kind of wizard doesn't know who Dumbledore is?" whispered Ron.
"Sssshhh!" was Hermione's only response.
"Now before all of you stuff yourselves to bursting point with our spectacular feast, there are one or two things I have to say. Firstly, I am relieved to announce that the frequently empty position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has been filled by Dr Harwald Dundridge, and expert in the field who has worked for the Ministry of Magic for the past thirty- nine years."
Until Dumbledore waved his hand in the direction of Dr Dundridge, no one in the hall had even noticed this impossibly grey man sitting quietly at the end of the teachers' table. He was wearing grey robes and grey spectacles and had a very ordinary head of grey hair – the kind of non-shade often found spread across the walls of council administration offices and mental institutions. Dull, bland eyes blinked back at the field of faces who had turned to look at him and even his skin seemed totally devoid of colour. A few embarrassed hands made a vague attempt at applause, but this died away quickly.
"Secondly," Dumbledore continued cheerfully, "In addition to the annual Yule Ball, thrown for all fourth years and above-" a murmur of both excited and miserable mumbles swept across the hall "-we will all be treated to a grand party on Midsummer's night to celebrate the closing of the school year. A cluster of senior students will be working hard throughout the year to organise it for us and everyone is invited! Well I think that's about it for tonight – dig in!"
Excited conversation swelled in the Great Hall as the golden plates and goblets in front of them filled with all kinds of hearty autumnal fare.
"Dumbledore said in his letter that one of my duties as Head Girl will be to get the organisation committee together," Hermione said before chewing thoughtfully for a moment, "would you two help?"
"As if you'd need our help, " Ron said through a mouthful of Yorkshire pudding, "you'll have so much lively and imaginative input from the spectacularly exciting Martin McBoring"
"His name is Martin McBorley and you should show him a little respect, he is Head Boy, after all. Anyway, I'm sure he's not nearly as dull as he may appear…" Hermione, Ron and Harry all looked doubtfully in Martin's direction to see a bespectacled, brown-haired boy sitting in the middle of the Hufflepuff table reading a book that looked like it could have been written by Merlin himself, apparently oblivious to the increasingly raucous food fight going on around him.
As Harry took another forkful of chicken pie, the faint sound of tiny bells tinkled behind him and his nostrils filled with the most pleasant smell he had ever experienced. It was a quiet scent of tropical flowers, wide olive groves, coconuts, bronzed skin and white beaches. Looking round at first he was alarmed to see Professor McGonagall's retreating back, but she moved aside to reveal the perfect figure of the girl who had brightened the doorway of his train compartment earlier that day.
She sat at the Gryffindor table in the only available seat and began to eat. Harry had a clear view of her face and noticed that she was even more spellbindingly beautiful than he had thought. Her long curls fell about her shoulders and down her back in perfect ringlets of every colour that hair could possibly be. Her eyes were not pure black, but faded into a glittering gold in the centre, framed by thick black eyelashes and smoothly arched eyebrows. Her lips were a soft coral colour, and her snow-white skin seemed to have been kissed at the cheeks by summer roses. Her beauty was more than just physical, though. There was a sort of romantic melancholy in her dark eyes and her lips which turned down slightly at the corners.
As she pushed a strand of wild hair behind her ear, Harry realised that the sound of bells had come from the delicate silver bracelet, with tiny charms clinging to it, which adorned her pale wrist. Gazing at her in the warm candle light Harry thought he had never seen anything as beautiful in his entire life.
"Umm…earth to Harry, come in Harry." Ron said loudly across the table, noticing that Harry seemed to be in some kind of mesmerized trance. He rolled his eyes and looked at Hermione for assistance.
"Her name is Morwenna Linwood and she's starting this year in our classes. She used to go to Beauxbatons, but for some reason she's had to move here." At this information Harry managed to turn away from Morwenna to look at his friends who were smiling at him knowingly.
"What?" He asked defensively.
"Nothing Harry" they said in chorus. Harry looked round again, but this time his attention was caught by another pair of eyes fixed on Morwenna. He instantly recognised that insolent stare as Draco Malfoy's, who appeared to be just as captivated by the newcomer's beauty as Harry was. For a moment, Harry looked back at Morwenna, but he inadvertently caught Draco's eye and the two of them looked daggers at each other across the room. Morwenna must have felt the tension in the air as she looked up at Draco, then turned her glance towards Harry, who suddenly became very interested in his goblet of pumpkin juice.
"If Malfoy thinks that someone like her could ever be interested in someone like him, he's got another thing coming." Harry thought to himself as he spooned custard onto his bowl of apple pie. It was a good few seconds before he noticed that he had ladled the sticky yellow sauce into a neat puddle on the table.
***
"Shit, shit, shit," Morwenna thought to herself as she poked her, now cold, apple pie. "I can't believe I got put into the same house as Harry Potter. Why does he have to be so good looking anyway? His friends look nice too, but if they knew, they'd hate me as much as he would. Why did I even come here? What was I trying to achieve? Maybe I should run off to a secluded cave somewhere and become a hermit and talk to my hand. At least my hand doesn't hate me…although it doesn't have particularly great conversation skills…"
Morwenna looked up again to see Harry staring at her in a look of pure hatred. "Oh God, he hates me already and he doesn't even know. That blonde boy's cute though, and it looked like Harry thought about as much of him as he will of me when he finds out. Mum always said that the Slytherins and the Gryffindors despised each other the most…looks like I'll be spending my time with the Slytherins then."
There it is then – chapter 3. OK, so not much has happened yet, but it will ….promise…( Please please please review or I'll curl up in a ball and roll around a lot. Thanx xxx
1 Chapter Three
Dusk swirled above the Great Hall in a whirlpool of peacock-coloured clouds and pure white stars. The windows were open to allow evening breezes, laden with the warmth of Southern sunshine, to wash through the darkening hall as the throng of fresh-faced students filled the waiting tables. Harry, Ron and Hermione installed themselves in their familiar spots near the back of the Hall and watched the last few people straggle in.
A silence descended upon the crowd as Hagrid led a troop of fidgety first years into the Hall, carrying a tattered old hat and a very precarious looking stool. Harry briefly wondered where Professor McGonagall was, as it was usually her who carried out the ritual sorting, but was distracted from his thinking by a tremendous roar of joy from his table as the first new student was sorted into Gryffindor. Each nervous eleven-year-old was received by a momentous cheer from their house table (except the Slytherin table who managed to make an innocent cheer sound something akin to the jeering of a crowd at an execution) and the hall was once again filled with the joyous echoes of a new school year after two months of silence.
The sorting took longer than usual as so many frightened parents had enrolled their children at the safe haven of Hogwarts. When most people were seated, Professor Dumbledore hushed the clamor by standing before them all. Harry couldn't help but be in awe of this kind-looking man, his smiling face surveying the petrified huddle of new first years. As the candle light sparkled in his clear blue eyes it was impossible to tell that this man was the only reason the wizards of the world could sleep at night without (too much) fear of Voldemort's return to power. The Ministry of Magic had continued to deny rumours of his ever-swelling dominance and the magical population had turned to Professor Dumbledore to lead them through this time of terror. Harry was still surprised that Dumbledore continued in his position as headmaster despite the troublesome burden of having to save the world. But as he cleared his throat to address his enraptured audience there was no weariness in his air, no sadness in his smile.
"Welcome, welcome to a brand new year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For those of you don't know, I am Albus Dumbledore, your headmaster."
"What kind of wizard doesn't know who Dumbledore is?" whispered Ron.
"Sssshhh!" was Hermione's only response.
"Now before all of you stuff yourselves to bursting point with our spectacular feast, there are one or two things I have to say. Firstly, I am relieved to announce that the frequently empty position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has been filled by Dr Harwald Dundridge, and expert in the field who has worked for the Ministry of Magic for the past thirty- nine years."
Until Dumbledore waved his hand in the direction of Dr Dundridge, no one in the hall had even noticed this impossibly grey man sitting quietly at the end of the teachers' table. He was wearing grey robes and grey spectacles and had a very ordinary head of grey hair – the kind of non-shade often found spread across the walls of council administration offices and mental institutions. Dull, bland eyes blinked back at the field of faces who had turned to look at him and even his skin seemed totally devoid of colour. A few embarrassed hands made a vague attempt at applause, but this died away quickly.
"Secondly," Dumbledore continued cheerfully, "In addition to the annual Yule Ball, thrown for all fourth years and above-" a murmur of both excited and miserable mumbles swept across the hall "-we will all be treated to a grand party on Midsummer's night to celebrate the closing of the school year. A cluster of senior students will be working hard throughout the year to organise it for us and everyone is invited! Well I think that's about it for tonight – dig in!"
Excited conversation swelled in the Great Hall as the golden plates and goblets in front of them filled with all kinds of hearty autumnal fare.
"Dumbledore said in his letter that one of my duties as Head Girl will be to get the organisation committee together," Hermione said before chewing thoughtfully for a moment, "would you two help?"
"As if you'd need our help, " Ron said through a mouthful of Yorkshire pudding, "you'll have so much lively and imaginative input from the spectacularly exciting Martin McBoring"
"His name is Martin McBorley and you should show him a little respect, he is Head Boy, after all. Anyway, I'm sure he's not nearly as dull as he may appear…" Hermione, Ron and Harry all looked doubtfully in Martin's direction to see a bespectacled, brown-haired boy sitting in the middle of the Hufflepuff table reading a book that looked like it could have been written by Merlin himself, apparently oblivious to the increasingly raucous food fight going on around him.
As Harry took another forkful of chicken pie, the faint sound of tiny bells tinkled behind him and his nostrils filled with the most pleasant smell he had ever experienced. It was a quiet scent of tropical flowers, wide olive groves, coconuts, bronzed skin and white beaches. Looking round at first he was alarmed to see Professor McGonagall's retreating back, but she moved aside to reveal the perfect figure of the girl who had brightened the doorway of his train compartment earlier that day.
She sat at the Gryffindor table in the only available seat and began to eat. Harry had a clear view of her face and noticed that she was even more spellbindingly beautiful than he had thought. Her long curls fell about her shoulders and down her back in perfect ringlets of every colour that hair could possibly be. Her eyes were not pure black, but faded into a glittering gold in the centre, framed by thick black eyelashes and smoothly arched eyebrows. Her lips were a soft coral colour, and her snow-white skin seemed to have been kissed at the cheeks by summer roses. Her beauty was more than just physical, though. There was a sort of romantic melancholy in her dark eyes and her lips which turned down slightly at the corners.
As she pushed a strand of wild hair behind her ear, Harry realised that the sound of bells had come from the delicate silver bracelet, with tiny charms clinging to it, which adorned her pale wrist. Gazing at her in the warm candle light Harry thought he had never seen anything as beautiful in his entire life.
"Umm…earth to Harry, come in Harry." Ron said loudly across the table, noticing that Harry seemed to be in some kind of mesmerized trance. He rolled his eyes and looked at Hermione for assistance.
"Her name is Morwenna Linwood and she's starting this year in our classes. She used to go to Beauxbatons, but for some reason she's had to move here." At this information Harry managed to turn away from Morwenna to look at his friends who were smiling at him knowingly.
"What?" He asked defensively.
"Nothing Harry" they said in chorus. Harry looked round again, but this time his attention was caught by another pair of eyes fixed on Morwenna. He instantly recognised that insolent stare as Draco Malfoy's, who appeared to be just as captivated by the newcomer's beauty as Harry was. For a moment, Harry looked back at Morwenna, but he inadvertently caught Draco's eye and the two of them looked daggers at each other across the room. Morwenna must have felt the tension in the air as she looked up at Draco, then turned her glance towards Harry, who suddenly became very interested in his goblet of pumpkin juice.
"If Malfoy thinks that someone like her could ever be interested in someone like him, he's got another thing coming." Harry thought to himself as he spooned custard onto his bowl of apple pie. It was a good few seconds before he noticed that he had ladled the sticky yellow sauce into a neat puddle on the table.
***
"Shit, shit, shit," Morwenna thought to herself as she poked her, now cold, apple pie. "I can't believe I got put into the same house as Harry Potter. Why does he have to be so good looking anyway? His friends look nice too, but if they knew, they'd hate me as much as he would. Why did I even come here? What was I trying to achieve? Maybe I should run off to a secluded cave somewhere and become a hermit and talk to my hand. At least my hand doesn't hate me…although it doesn't have particularly great conversation skills…"
Morwenna looked up again to see Harry staring at her in a look of pure hatred. "Oh God, he hates me already and he doesn't even know. That blonde boy's cute though, and it looked like Harry thought about as much of him as he will of me when he finds out. Mum always said that the Slytherins and the Gryffindors despised each other the most…looks like I'll be spending my time with the Slytherins then."
There it is then – chapter 3. OK, so not much has happened yet, but it will ….promise…( Please please please review or I'll curl up in a ball and roll around a lot. Thanx xxx