Truths, Secrets, and Lies
Disclaimer:
Aside from the plot (and future characters), everything belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.
Summary:
Throughout his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry discovers a paradox that could quite possibly upturn his life.
A/N:
This story was formerly called 'Harry Potter and the Lost Year,' however, an alteration in storyline called for a new (better) name. 'Truths, Secrets, and Lies,' however, is going to be extremely different from the 'Lost Year,' especially in later chapters. If you haven't yet, you may want to re-read [at least] the first two chapters, because they are quite a bit different than they were originally.
Chapter 5
It was with a heavy heart that Harry bade farewell to his late-summer residence. However, he knew that once he stepped upon the scarlet Hogwarts Express he would truly be on his way home.
With a jolt, however, Harry was brought back to reality.
"FRED!" Ginny squealed. "That is my journal –"
"Virginia Weasley! What journal is this?" Mrs. Weasley suddenly interjected.
Irritably, Ginny rolled her eyes, "Don't worry, mum, it's just a Muggle diary I bought over the summer."
"When did you go to a Muggle shop?" Mrs. Weasley asked incredulously.
"When I went to the stationary shop…" Ginny prompted, but continued at the quizzical look her mother was still giving her, "To buy you the fancy paper you needed for your Witches Against the Rise of the Dark Arts club meeting!"
Relief washed over Mrs. Weasley's face, "Oh yes! Of course, dear; I'm just a bit more nervous than I usually am…"
George scoffed at this comment, but Mrs. Weasley chose not to reply. Instead, she said, "Well, it looks as though everything is packed in the Ministry cars. Oh my stars – it's nearly time to leave!" She began to herd her children plus Harry and Hermione outside to the jade-colored cars waiting in the street.
As the group entered platform 9 ¾ at King's Cross Station, Mrs. Weasley wiped her eyes sadly with a handkerchief. She hugged and kissed each of her children, and then hugged both Hermione and Harry.
"Do be careful," she said simply to Harry as she gave him a squeeze.
"I'll try, Mrs. Weasley," he answered truthfully.
After much ado, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were finally seated in their compartment on the Hogwarts Express, and were waving to Mrs. Weasley as the train started to pull away.
As the trio finally slid into their seats, they were startled as the compartment door opened.
"Shove off, Malfoy!" Ron began maliciously, but then continued quickly, "Ginny! I'm so sorry –"
Harry watched the petite redheaded figure emerge from the doorway, and listened as she said with a smile, "Er – I'm afraid you are wrong again – I don't know any 'Ginny's…"
Harry and Ron gaped at the girl standing before them, but Hermione took action. She shot a quick glare at both Harry and Ron, and extended a hand to the girl, and said brightly, "Hi! I'm Hermione Granger. Are you new to Hogwarts?"
Smiling gratefully, the girl answered in a heavy French accent, "'Ello. I'm Lamya Meda, and yes, I am new to 'Ogwarts – I had to transfer from Beauxbatons this year." Though Lamya was slight of build, she informed the trio that she would be a sixth year at Hogwarts (or "'Ogwarts", as she said). She carefully pushed a lock of her cascading red hair behind her ear before she continued. "I 'ave always found 'Ogwarts to be fascinating. Though I was adopted, my mother told me that my parents were both British. A bit ironic that my father suddenly got transferred to the British Ministry of Magic, no?"
"Do you know much about Hogwarts?" Hermione inquired (both Harry and Ron were still gaping at Lamya in disbelief).
"No, I don't. I know zat there are four 'ouses, but I do not understand zis system of 'ouses."
"Oh! It's easy enough to understand – there are four houses named after their founders: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Harry, Ron, and myself are all in Gryffindor, but each house values different traits, so the Sorting Hat decides what house you are put in based on your personality," Hermione explained.
"Excuzes moi, but what is ze 'Sorting 'at?" Lamya asked innocently.
"The Sorting Hat once belonged to Goderic Gryffindor – our house is his namesake – and he created it so that there would be a system to choose students for each house after he and the other founders died. Really, it was a brilliant idea."
"Zat is fascinating!" Lamya exclaimed.
At that proclamation, Ron rolled his eyes, and said in an undertone to Harry, "Looks like Hermione has found a new best friend…"
Though Harry smiled to Ron, he was barely able to tear his eyes away from Lamya. Something about her seemed familiar; as though she were an old friend Harry had almost forgotten…
*~*~*
Just as the blue of the sky was beginning to succumb to the dreariness of dusk, the Hogwarts Express pulled into the Hogsmeade station. Ron clamored into the horseless carriage that was to take the returning students to Hogwarts (though Lamya was also allowed to come, as she would be a sixth year) still reveling the moment on the train that Draco had made his appearance in Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lamya's compartment. Draco had shoved smugly into the compartment, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle, and promptly lost his composure when he laid eyes on Lamya. Harry had to admit that he, too, had noticed Lamya's enchanting stormy gray eyes and fiery hair. However, Harry hadn't stood like a speechless fool as Crabbe and Goyle stood menacingly behind him.
"Did you see the git blunder about trying to form coherent sentences?" Ron asked gleefully.
"Yes, yes, he was very enamored with Lamya… Can we please talk about something else now?" Hermione beseeched.
Harry followed Hermione's gaze as it shift to Lamya's face, and Harry was surprised to see that she look rather uncomfortable. For the first time, she spoke about the incident.
"You don't the 'e really found me… attractive, do you?" she asked, clearly hoping for a response of the negative variety. "'E was – 'ow do you say? – creepy…"
Even Hermione laughed at her frankness, but she felt she had to be truthful to her newfound friend. "I'm afraid he did seem a bit – er – infatuated with you," she said warily.
Lamya's face fell considerably, but she squared her shoulders, and quietly accepted her fate; Harry laughed inwardly.
After a few moments, the foursome leapt out of the carriage, and walked to the castle and into the Great Hall.
"Well, I will see you all soon, I 'ope!" Lamya said confidently, biding the trio farewell, and looking out of place as she joined the group of nervous-looking first years who had congregated outside the Great Hall.
*~*~*
Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat heavily down at Gryffindor table anxious for Lamya. As far as the trio was concerned, the girl belonged in Gryffindor.
"Oi! I hope we can eat soon," Ron exclaimed as he looked longingly at the golden plate before him.
Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and hissed, "Ron! Lamya's about to be sorted, and all you can think about is your stomach?"
Just as Ron was about to retort, Professor McGonagall walked into the Great Hall, and sat the Sorting Hat and stool before the long table at which the teachers sat. At once, the murmur of people talking silenced, and the Hat broke into song:
Long, long ago in centuries past,
When the Hogwarts four did meet.
They thought to build a school at last
That taught of magical feats.
Each had a house formed in his own name
That valued different traits.
The founders sorted the children that came,
And left the rest up to fate.
Gryffindor favored the gallant,
While Hufflepuff preferred the kind.
Ravenclaw wanted the talented,
Slytherin chose those cunning of mind.
When, at last, they thought their work was done,
One question still remained:
Who would choose the lucky ones
When they had passed away?
Gryffindor then had a thought,
That this hat could do the dividing.
And that's when I was magically taught
To do all the sorting and deciding.
So, now please don't hesitate,
To place me on your head.
I'll tell you where you will make
All of your best friends.
Hufflepuff or Gryffindor,
Ravenclaw or Slytherin,
I know that you'll adore
Whatever house I put you in!
The Great Hall burst into applause as the occupants in the room marveled that the Hat had been able to create yet another unique song.
After the end of the Sorting Hat's song, Professor McGonagall immediately began to call off the names of the first years. From Akkenly, Ursula to Yalta, Thomas, she called the names, and proceeded to roll up her bit of parchment. She jumped in surprise when she saw the lone Lamya standing proud and straight before the befuddled crowed of Hogwarts Students, and then turned to gaze expectantly at Professor Dumbledore.
"Ah, yes! Lamya, my dear…" He said, his eyes twinkling. "Everyone, I am pleased to present to you one of the few transfer students who have graced the halls of Hogwarts. Madame Maxime, whom many of you will remember from last year's Triwizard Tournament, recommended Miss Lamya Meda personally," Dumbledore then paused, and seemed to glance fleetingly at Harry. However, he couldn't be sure, because just as quickly as he had paused, he began to speak again, "Miss Meda will be starting as a sixth year at Hogwarts, and I trust you will all make it a pleasant year for her."
He smiled kindly at the blushing Lamya, and said softly, "You may now be sorted, Lamya."
Harry watched Lamya swallow hard, and nod her head resolutely as she proceeded to place the tattered hat upon her head.
After several moments, when nothing but a pressing silence filled the room, people began to lose their patience for the girl preventing them eating. It was nearly ten minutes before Lamya stirred. She began to squirm uncomfortably, and Harry heard a barely-perceptible sob escape her lips.
Finally, the Sorting Hat could be heard over the many rambunctious voices; "SLYTHERIN!" It proclaimed, causing Harry, Hermione, and Ron to gape in confusion.
Lamya trudged to the Slytherin table. Looking like a whipped animal, she sat down with her new housemates, and cast petrified glances at her peers. Then, upon noticing the worried looks from Harry, Ron, and Hermione, she gave what she hoped would be a confident grin, and began to eat her now-tasteless dinner.
*~*~*
The first week of the new term was hectic for all the fifth years—the teachers hadn't forgotten that fifth years took their O.W.L.s this year, and had started the year by assigning hours of homework for the hapless students to fumble through.
"I can't do this!" Ron exclaimed in frustration as he through his quill upon his Divination homework.
"Shh!" Madam Pince spat at Ron from across the library.
Ron glared daggers at her, but lowered his voice as he said, "I'm pretty near being sick of this Divination crap – "
"Ron!" Hermione said, as she jabbed a finger at the prefect badge she wore pinned to her sweater. In the very last days of the summer holidays, Hermione had received the news that she would be a Prefect (with a lengthy letter of apology from Professor McGonagall, who had sent her letter to Hermione's house first before she realized that Hermione was with the Weasleys). "I can't just let you get away with anything you want just because we're friends, you know!" She continued as Ron said simultaneously (completely ignoring Hermione):
"How does that old bat expect us to make up our futures three years in a row?"
"She doesn't, Ron!" Hermione interjected, her face flushing. "She expects everyone to 'foretell the future' as well as she does," she ended sarcastically rolling her eyes. "Honestly why don't you just drop that subject like I did?" It was common knowledge that Hermione Granger was one of the few students who had never been enraptured by the misty-voiced Sibyll Trelawney. Divination was one of the few subjects Hermione had forfeited during her extremely hectic third year.
Rom looked as though he was about to reply, but it soon became apparent to Harry that Ron was only opening and closing his mouth, unable to find the words to retort to Hermione. Harry thought he looked rather like a fish gasping for water. Finally, Ron looked away from Hermione's bushy-haired head, for, Hermione had long since returned to her studies, and resignedly returned to his Divination.
When a heart-stopping, unanticipated crash suddenly disrupted the stillness of the library, Harry looked up in time to see Ron knock over his bottle of ink, and Hermione's rolls of parchment flutter to the floor as they both jumped out of their seats. In the blink of an eye, Harry strode over to the nearest shelves of books, silently pulling out his wand. He was unaware, however, that he was being closely trailed by Ron and Hermione, so when he stopped abruptly, Ron caused him to tumble to floor and land next to the originator of the noise.
Sitting in the midst of a large pile of books sat Lamya, the color of her face nearly matching the roots of her fiery hair.
Exasperatedly, she exclaimed, "I am such a klutz! Zis just 'ad to 'appen to me!" She quickly leapt to her feet, and began roughly pushing the spilled books onto their respective shelf.
Confidently, Harry spoke to Lamya as he, Ron, and Hermione began to help Lamya sort out her dilemma, "Don't worry about it, Lamya, I'm sure no body noticed – " However, Harry's sentence was cut short as a claw-like hand intercepted the leather-bound book he was adding to his shelf, and Madam Pince exclaimed angrily:
"This is the second time you lot have been causing trouble! The three of you are hereby banned from the library!"
Hermione's face paled, and Harry watched as her knees buckled compulsively. She looked as though she longed to proclaim her innocence, but, in her shock, couldn't even remember how to string a sentence together.
It was Lamya who came to the trio's rescue.
Though her head was lowered to the floor, and her gray eyes, were closed in shame, Lamya spoke clearly, "'Arry, Ron, and Hermione didn't do zis, Madam Pince – I did. I was trying to reach a book, and it was on to 'igh of a shelf for me to reach safely…"
Madam Pince looked disapprovingly at Lamya, but her face had lost its stony look. Her voice, however, was as sharp as ever, "What did you say your name is?"
"Lamya Meda… I – I transferred 'ere from Beauxbatons…"
"Ah, you're the new girl. Professor Dumbledore assured me you'd be no trouble," Madam Pince looked skeptically at the cowering girl. "I'm going to have to report this disturbance. However, as long as Professor Dumbledore doesn't require it, I won't assign you detention… this time. You will, however, clean this mess."
With those final words, Madam Pince swept as fast as her small, elderly frame would take her out of the library; no doubt, she was upholding her promise to inform the headmaster.
Lamya's eyes spoke all the thanks Harry, Ron, and Hermione needed as hey finished putting away the dusty volumes of books. "Zank you for your 'elp," Lamya said. "I am so sorry she zought you 'ad made zis mess."
"Don't mention it," Ron said, casually waving away the expression of gratitude. "We were just glad you weren't You-Know-Who."
Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, "Don't even joke about that, Ron!"
Disbelievingly, Ron raised his hands towards the ceiling, "Who was joking? I didn't what Lamya to be You-Know-Who!"
This, of course, launched Ron and Hermione into one of their all-too-common arguments. Harry and Lamya looked on, amused. "Are zey always like zis?" Lamya whispered to Harry.
With feigned solemnity, Harry nodded. Lamya was unable to suppress a giggle. Harry thought he heard the barely-perceptible noise of flesh brushing against leather, but, when he glanced quickly up and down the aisle, he concluded his senses must just be hyper-sensitive due the he stress he had suffered in the past five minutes.
As soon as Ron and Hermione had abandoned their argument, and continued to the phase of fervent silence, the group made their way out of the library – Hermione striding ever-ahead of the group as she angrily gripped her stack of books to her chest, hair and cloak billowing behind her as her brisk walk carried her to Gryffindor tower. Harry and Lamya were walking together, shaking their heads sadly as they watched Ron trudge slowly and guiltily behind them, carrying his books disconsolately at his side, not bothering to pick up the bits of parchment with hastily scribbled notes he dropped along the way.
Worry griping her voice, Lamya asked Harry, "Are you sure zey are going to be all right?"
Harry answered her with experienced knowledge: "Yeah. Just wait until breakfast tomorrow…"
*~*~*
The next morning, Harry could be found thoughtfully eating his toast, trying to imagine the reason for Ginny's sullen attitude. Though Ginny usually did her best to craftily be ignored by Harry, this morning her manner had been positively frigid.
"Good morning, Harry," Ginny had greeted him loftily.
"Oh – er – good morning," Harry had answered rather taken aback. Usually Ginny didn't say a word to Harry. The most she would do to acknowledge the presence of Harry would be to trip upon catching a glimpse of Harry, and then rush past in a flurry of an intense blush and complementing red hair. Based on instinct, Harry moved over to allow room for Ginny to sit next to him. However, she flat-out rejected his nonverbal offer.
"No thanks, Harry. I think I'll sit somewhere else." Despite her harsh tone, Harry noticed Ginny nervously bite her lip as she realized that there were no other empty seats at the table. Just as Harry thought Ginny would concede and sit next to him, Ginny smiled triumphantly and moved to fill the seat of Lavender Brown as she and Parvati Patil left the table to get to Divination early.
Dejectedly, Harry found he was no longer hungry.
It was at this moment that Harry spotted Ron and Hermione walk nonchalantly into the Great Hall. Ron nudged Fred so he and George would make room for Ron and Hermione.
"Hey! What's the big idea?" Fred said angrily.
"C'mon, can't you just budge over a bit?" Ron asked, his voice just shy of a whine.
"Do you want to be the first sampler of a Tail Taffy, complements of Weasley Wizard Wheezes?" George asked.
"You wouldn't want to embarrass yourself at Hogwarts, would you? Or, worse, embarrass poor, hapless Miss Granger?" Fred added.
"She's not my girlfriend!" Ron said blusterously. Immediately after finishing his proclamation, the color of his face changed from an impassioned crimson to a sickly green color as he realized his grave mistake.
Fred and George laughed out loud. "No need to get defensive, chap," George said, slapping Ron jovially on the back. "We were leaving anyway." He and Fred proceeded to leave. Amid their snickers, the phrase 'defensive lover-boy' could be heard.
Ron spent the remainder of breakfast poking morosely at his food with his chin resting miserably in the palm of his hand. Hermione, however, was passively glowing – apparently, her Arithmancy teacher had been ill since the start of the term, and this would be his first day back to Hogwarts.
"…The substitute Professor Dumbledore found wasn't nearly as knowledgeable about the subject as Professor Vector! I've already memorized the next three chapters…"
"Why don't you just teach the class, Hermione?" Ron muttered under his breath.
Hermione looked at him, her face aghast. "How can you even say such a thing? I have so much to learn…!"
"I was kidding," Ron replied in an irritated voice.
Apparently, emotions from the previous evening were still running high, for Hermione scooped her books in her arms, and exclaimed as she began to walk away from the Gryffindors, "I'm going to the library. I'll see you in Care of Magical Creatures class."
Ron only shook his head in disbelief, and returned to picking at his food.
*~*~*
When Harry and Ron finally began to make their way towards the North Tower, it was with preoccupied thoughts that they tread the corridors. In what he hoped would be an off-handed manner, Harry asked Ron, "Do you have any idea what was bothering Ginny this morning?"
"Hm? Oh, no. A bad hair day, maybe?" Ron replied, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to seriously consider the question. Harry sighed loudly at Ron's obliviousness.
"Ah, back again, are you, you scurvy curs?" Came a loud voice to the left of Ron. The voice belonged to none other than Sir Cadogan.
"It's us, you lamebrain," Ron said to the knight standing next to a rumpled-looking pony in the midst of a grassy field.
Upon achieving recognition, the short knight said, "Ah, yes, kind sirs! You were among the Gryffindor chaps I protected two years ago…"
Ron rolled his eyes and replied, "Need I also remind you that you let Sirius Black into our Tower?"
"He had the whole week's worth of passwords!" Sir Cadogan answered brightly. At this moment, Sir Cadogan was distracted when a pretty woman dressed in medieval garb walked through his painting. She paused to pat the gray, lounging pony, and shot a flirtatious smile at Sir Cadogan. The knight completely forgot himself for a moment, but quickly began his attempt at impressing the young woman. "…Did you hear that I was recently called upon to protect Gryffindor Tower?" Harry and Ron heard him boast as they began to sneak away from the painting.
With seconds to spare, Harry and Ron entered Divination, and made to sit in their usual poufs around a small table near the back of the darkened, sultry room. They were perplexed to see Lamya sitting self-consciously in one of the chairs surrounding their table.
"Hi, Lamya," Harry said, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice.
"Oh! 'Ello, 'Arry – I didn't know Divination was a subject you were taking as well… I felt very out-of-place – I don't know anyone else in 'ere!"
"Well, if you don't mind me asking, why are you in our class at all? You're a sixth year… and a Slytherin."
Lamya wrinkled her nose, and muttered, "Not by choice," and quickly continued, "Well, despite what Professor Dumbledore promised me, I was with fifth year Slytherins zis past week – Beauxbatons does not teach Divination, so I 'ad to at least have zis subject with a younger class," She stated. "Anyway, when I explained to Professor Dumbledore zat ze fifth year classes were not challenging for me, 'e reworked my schedule so, excluding zis class, I am with sixth years. Even zough I do not feel as zough I belong with Slytherins, it is more comforting to know zat I am with my peers."
Harry nodded in understanding, but, before he could reply, Professor Trelawaney walked into the room, her jewelry tinkling and sparkling in the dim light.
"Today we are going to continue our work with crystal gazing. The fates have informed me that this tool will prove useful in the fight against the Dark Lord – "
Ron emitted a loud, hacking cough that sounded suspiciously like, 'phony.'
Professor Trelawney, however, continued unperturbed, "As you can see, I have placed an orb on each table – ah! Lamya, dear, I did not know you had Divination at this time."
"So the fates are feeling particularly talkative, then?" Ron said to Harry in a low voice, causing the duo to painfully suppress the hysterics that threatened to be unleashed.
Lamya shot them the faintest of reproving looks, and said to Professor Trelawney, "Professor Dumbledore 'ad to change my schedule yesterday."
"All right. Have you ever worked with a crystal ball?"
"Er – no…" Lamya admitted guiltily.
"Well, I'm afraid that does leave you a bit behind, but we must carry on. Perhaps Miss Patil or Miss Brown can help you…" Professor Trelawney trailed off, apparently forgetting Lamya's lack of Divination training, and moved closer to the fireplace at the front of the room.
"It's these fumes she's inhaling all the time," Ron explained solemnly.
Within a few minutes, Harry and Ron had told Lamya all they "knew" about crystal gazing, and she was willing to give it a try.
Lamya's hands hovered above the crystal ball, and her brow was furrowed in concentration as she tried to see through the swirling mist in the crystal. Suddenly, Harry saw clandestine figures moving about in the mist. Astonished, he chanced a glance at Lamya, only to see that she had fallen limp in the chair, though her eyes remained eerily open and glassy.
At once, he exclaimed, "Someone needs to find Madam Pomfrey!"
To be continued…
Second A/N: "Lamya Meda" is actually neither a French name, nor an English name (although I'm sure you all realized that). I actually discovered the two names as I was looking at a list of baby names: one name is Native American (a bit off, but you'll have to work with me), and the other is Arabic. *Jokes* She must have had very worldly parents. If you show the initiative, you can find out what her name means, and perhaps gain a bit of insight of her future (*winks*)! Anyway, I'd appreciate any feedback concerning Lamya – I am trying my best to avoid a Mary Sue, but if it ever seems that she is too perfect, please, don't hesitate to tell me. Thanks so much for reading this chapter!
'Thank You' To:
WhetherRose: (This is really more of a bit of thanks for your Tom Riddle review… Yeah, so I'm a bit backwards…) I always enjoy your reviews so much! Really, I can't express my gratitude enough (the best I can do is thank you in every chapter I write :) )! I wanted to thank you for your support in my writing a chapter to whichever story I wanted to write. I had thought I would write more of the Tom Riddle story (which I did… but not enough for a full chapter), but I wanted to present Lamya to the world. Also, I actually *tried* to edit my story before I posted it (it was quite difficult to not post it as soon as I typed the last word), so hopefully you won't have quite as much work correcting my silly errors. But if you do find any mistakes, please let me know! I hope this long weekend is good for you – you sound like you deserve it! No one should be sick when she wants to write more of her fan fiction (and there are those of us on the edge of our seat in anticipation for a new chapter!). Just remember that we'll always be here waiting for you!
Babyphatcat13: I can always count on you to give me a boost of happiness when I read your reviews – I always appreciate your praise!
Bonita Knows All: *Sigh* as you're my sister, I am pretty sure that you exaggerated a smidge in your praise, but I loved it all the same. From now on, I'd like to be called J.K., please. Only joking! That would be more than a little weird…
Also, Thanks To: Lauren Graham, Hollie, Sara Minks, T.H, Lauren (this story must be quite a "Lauren" attractor…), Oceansun, and VyingQuill – all your reviews are greatly appreciated! Also, I'd like to give an enormous thank you, Leeslie778 (here at Fanfiction.net) for allowing me to use your Sorting Hat song in this chapter! I abhor writing poetry (well, actually, I don't abhor it, but it doesn't seem to like me very much…). You have no idea how happy I was when you said I could use your poem! Thanks again, everyone!