Disclaimer: Okay, you already know that I'm not JK Rowling, that all of this (except for Alina, etc) belongs to her not me, that disclaimer in the beginning was for the entire story. However, I do use a few lines in this chapter that belong not to me but to certain movies, lines which I felt were not only the best for the characterization of Alina Petranni, but it was really the only way to say what I wanted her to say. Okay "… are the legs you stand on, and that position demands respect…" and "You were born to privilege and with that comes specific obligations" belongs to the people who own the movie Ever After: A Cindarella Story, I'm just pretending Alina came up with those statements originally, and no I'm not pairing her up with Malfoy, those just happen to be the best lines to get her point across. Moreover, the line, "Toto, we're not in…. anymore" belongs to the people who own the movie, and the the author of the book The Wizard of Oz. I know you all know I didn't make those up, I just didn't want anyone to think I was plagurizing.
Author's Note: This chapter is rated PG-13 for profanity towards the end, sorry, but it's a necessary evil so I can more accurately portray the torrent of emotions Alina is feeling at that point. You have been forewarned. Okay, most of this chapter is devoted to the new girl in Hogwarts, Alina Petranni. Let's clear this up first however, Alina is NOT a Mary-Sue character, and she is NOT Harry's new love interest. I give her much more credit than that. I'm sorry if I misled anyone to think that in my description of her last chapter, but that was what she really looked like, and don't you think it's a little early to be jumping to those sort of conclusions? ::grumbles:: Can't I introduce a character without people assuming she's a Mary-Sue? As you all know, good looks say nothing about personality. The expression she was wearing in the last chapter says a lot more about her than her physical appearance, and ironically, I discovered the beginning of the name "Petranni" which came completely off the top of my head because I wanted a Mediterranean sounding name, is the girl's name Petra, which apparently means "like a rock," which says a lot about her personality. Anyway, I think it would be interesting to see your opinions about her, some of you will hate her, some of you may not, and some of you will have reactions that are totally unpredictable in my mind, I'm just anxious to see how you feel about her by the end of the chapter. Another chapter eating the dust ::groans:: big surprise. I'd better let you get reading….
This chapter is dedicated to amadeus and Jedi Cosmos because it was they who expressed concern about Alina becoming a Mary-Sue character, and I hope that this chapter will help them on the way to seeing that that notion is completely and utterly incorrect, naw, wrong, wrong is a more powerful word than the more gramatically friendly "incorrect." Thank you.
Chapter Four
Alina
By the next morning, all sorts of rumors were flying about the school, and none of them made any sense… "Hey, did you hear about that new girl?… Twenty-Five galleons ('cause that's all I've got) says she's a Death Eater!"
"No, no, you've got it all wrong, she's an Auror under cover!"
"You're both morons! – Everyone knows she's from another galaxy!"
And they got even more ridiculous than this, if that was possible…. Curious, Harry had suggested that they introduce themsleves, find out what was really going on… So, just after breakfast, the three of them approached Alina Petranni, the Australian transfer, looking for some answers, completely unaware that they were going to get a lot more than they bargained for…
They decided to ambush her in the hallway, which wasn't at all difficult since quite a few people seemed to be skirting their way out of her path. Harry noticed that she carried herself very well, walking with perfect posture: her back was straight, her head held high, and she walked smoothly and proudly. The three also realized something slightly odd in her presence… As they approached her, they saw that there was something about her that seemed regal; she seemed to radiate the aura of beauty and power, of royalty: indeed, as they looked into the proud, passionate, regal fire burning behind those bright yellow-green eyes (where had he seen those eyes before?), they felt as though they were in the presence of a Queen.
She seemed kind enough as they chatted her up and made acquaintance… She seemed to like Ron from the moment she heard his name, and, much to Harry's relief, in her friendliness she mentioned nothing of his scar nor of his fame. When she heard Hermione's name however, after doing the smallest of double-takes, acquired an odd look of softened-confusion and disappointment, before her slighlty-strong Australian accent slipped into a slightly condescending tone, "You've forgotten your manners."
Only Ron, who was growing more and more red by the moment, seemed to have even a clue as to what was going on. Harry and Hermione on the other hand, just stood there shooting each other sidelong glances and looking equally confused, before Hermione plucked up her courage and asked "What exactly are you talking about?" in a naïve, uneasy tone.
Not bothering to even attempt to mask her shock, the Australian spoke gently, in a nonetheless firm voice, her eyes hinting a bit at the fire and ice they were capable of displaying, as though she wanted to set Hermione to rights with as little friction and hurt feelings as possible. "You are muggle-born," she said, scanning her quickly and thornily with her eyes, "have you not forgotten your place?"
As if this was not enough, before Hermione could even comment, someone cut in, and it was the last person in the world Harry wanted to see at that moment… Draco Malfoy had been watching smugly, his eyes filled with triumphant glee. "So, Know-It-All-Granger's finally been cut down! Have you finally figured out you're nothing but a worthless Mudblood?"
However, either because he was too stupid, or because he was enjoying himself too much (you decide which), Malfoy didn't seem to notice that his comments, far from pleasing Alina, only seemed to infuriate her, "And you call yourself a pureblood!" she snarled. Her eyes burned with a festering rage and her aura of power seemed dangerously noticeable as she fixed Malfoy with a glare that could've withered the greatest of wizards. "Malfoy, isn't it?" she sneered, her lip curling in imminent dislike. She seemed to take Draco's malicious glare for the affirmative. "How dare you use that sort of language? Muggle-borns like Hermione are the legs you stand on and that position demands respect! Not such callous treatment! What, have you lowered yourself to that of a commoner? Being pure-blooded you should know better! Being pure-blooded you're supposed to set a better example for those in lower positions! You were born to privilege and with that comes specific obligations! But no, you have proven yourself to be no better than a common muggle… In fact, anyone of any proper breeding and respectability would think you to be nothing more than a filthy gutter rat! You have brought shame to your family and your class!" she growled, before turning her back on Malfoy, who looked as though he had just been stabbed in the heart.
Normally the scene of Draco Malfoy being so badly thrashed by one of his own would have been a hilarious sight, but, considering the circumstances… "I'm terribly sorry about him," she rounded on them, "I can't believe anyone with such a … er … prominent background, could be such a cowardly snake!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione just glared at her, however, shocked and angry, until Hermione, who looked as though she had just been slapped in the face, opened her mouth scathingly as though to say something, thought the better of it, and stomped away steaming, her nose in the air.
Alina seemed mildly confused as she watched Hermione go, and looked at Harry and Ron as though expecting an explanation. "Well, I don't know what she expected… We've all got our place to fill in society, and the sooner everyone learns that, the better off we'll all be."
Harry gave a glance at Ron, who seemed beyond all words, crimson and trembling from head to toe in anger, his right hand dangerously nearing his wand. They stood there for just another moment, Ron just to glare, and Harry, who was equally appalled but shocked that anyone could be so arrogant, stayed only to make sure Ron didn't do anything stupid. Carefully watching Ron's wand hand, he decided it was time to go, grabbed Ron by the arm and pulled him away, but not before bidding Alina good day… He spat at her, his every word reverberating with the utmost loathing and disgust…
"You're in Hogwarts now, and I don't know what you're used to but now you've a place to fill in British society, and things don't work that way here. The sooner you learn that, the better off we'll all be."
So, Harry and Ron marched off to find Hermione, leaving a slightly confused looking Australian transfer staring after them… And Harry could've sworn he distinctly heard her say "Toto, we're not in Sydney anymore."
~**~_~**~_~**~
Lunch had only just begun, and the trio was recovering from a particularly nasty morning spent completely comatose, otherwise known as a triple-period History of Magic lecture. It was Monday, September fourth, the first day of classes (since September first had fallen on a Friday), and the Gryffindors, and Hufflepuffs for that matter, were counting on their food to wake them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione hadn't spoken to that, that, that girl all weekend, but Ron had had quite a time bashing her.
As it happened however, just when they had managed to push her out of their mind, those crazy rumors brought them back to her. Ernie MacMillan, a Hufflepuff fifth year who once thought Harry to be the Heir of Slytherin, was conversing in low yet audible whispers with his friends Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbot, and Susan Bones. He was sitting directly behind Ron, and he, Harry, and Hermione heard everything he said. "Looks rather fishy if you ask me… Coming back now… I mean, everyone knows about that family. Just think about it: the Dark Lord falls, they run halfway across the world to Australia; then You-Know-Who comes back, and they suddenly re-appear in England? No one in their right mind goes right into the lion's den… Not unless they're on his side! I'm telling you, she's a Death Eater!"
Ron turned around, his dark blue eyes blazing, and stuck his head through a gap in between the Hufflepuff friends. "She's not," he growled, "she's just a terrific snob!"
The Hufflepuff quartet looked appalled as Ron turned back to face Hermione and Harry, sitting opposite him. "Wait a minute," Hermione said, looking confused, suspicious, and calculating all at once, "left when He fell?… 'Reappear in England?' She used to live here?"
"Yeah," Harry continued for her, perplexed "and what's that about, 'everyone knows about that family?' What's going on?" His eyes implored Ron for an explanation.
He shrugged, "Dunno. What'd they say her surname was again? Petranni? That sounds somewhat familiar, it doesn't sound English though… I'll have to ask Dad when I get the chance, he'll probably know. Probably nothing though, you know, some stupid old-wizarding gossip or something, you know how suspicious Ernie can be."
Ron glanced over at Alina, she siting at the other end, by the staff table, and felt a white-hot surge of anger sear through his every nerve, like a rampaging bull. He couldn't believe she'd had the nerve to say that! And to Hermione of all people! He felt his skin getting more and more red by the moment until he was certain he was glowing scarlet. He wished with all his heart that he could just stroll right up to that Alina Petranni and punch her right square on that perfectly stuck-up nose of hers… 'That Alina Petranni,' people like her gave old wizarding families a bad name. Ron forced himself to face his friends once more, "What is she doing in Gryffindor anyway? She looks to me like a Slytherin through-and-through…" He glared past his friends, past the walls, past Hogwarts… "I should've known…" he growled, feeling so stupid, like he'd failed Hermione in some way, by not protecting her from that monster, or something of that nature, he wasn't really sure. He knew Hermione could protect herself well enough, but all the same… He sat staring into oblivion in confusion and anger…
He was brought back to Earth by the sound of her voice, and his stomach twisted into an odd knot as he heard her speak, something that had been happening a lot lately, what was going on with him? He had no clue whatsoever. "What do you mean?" she inquired.
"Should've known she'd be so… so…" He couldn't seem to find the right adjective to describe the criminally offensive, horrible person that was Alina Petranni. "So… the way she is!"
"Ron, don't be stupid," Harry mused, "there's no way anyone could've known she'd be that horrid."
"I should've," he sighed "after all, she is an Australian…" From the odd, pensive looks his friends gave him, the way they glanced at him skeptically, to each other, and back again; he knew he was going to have to explain this… "Listen, I haven't got a clue what muggle Australia is like, but the magical Australian society is very different from our own. I have distant family, cousins or something, who live in Sydney, they've got a manor on Home-Bush Bay, and anyway, the year before we came to Hogwarts, they were hosting a family reunion or something, and we went there… Trust me, Malfoy would be in heaven, it's like a stuck-up pureblood's paradise. Apparently, the Muggle-Born Civil Rights Movement," seeing confused looks once more, he recovered himself, "don't worry, I'm sure Binns'll drone on about it someday. Anyway, it hasn't even happened over there! It's like stepping back a hundred years! Non-purebloods haven't even got the right to vote or run for office! It's all directly under the control of the old-wizarding families. The Muggle-borns pay about three quarters of all the taxes, and they have virtually nothing!… They've got all the down-and-dirty jobs like grave-digger and toilet-cleaner and all that, but those are the lucky ones, who are independent, because most of them do literally have nothing. About ninety-five percent of all Muggle-borns are slaves."
Hermione gasped, the look of horror more than obvious on her face, and Harry nearly fell off of this chair. "Okay, they're not really slaves, officially, but it's just as bad. They're servants technically, but the only reason they're called servants and not slaves is because they're paid, but they're barely paid anything at all. All the law says is that you have to pay them, even if it's just a knut every month, just as long as its enough for them to pay taxes on each year."
Ron continued, even though the fire burning in Hermione's looked very dangerous, and Harry seemed almost comatose with shock, "It get's worse…" he started, feeling daring enough to tell the whole truth. "Everything is separate too, the schools, though most upper-class purebloods don't' even go to school, they've got private tutors… Anyway, yes everything from the pavement they walk on to the bathrooms they use, markets they can shop in, to the clothes they're allowed to wear, all separate, and there's more, in ways you can't even imagine. They have separate legal codes too, they don't bother to pretend to be unbiased and equal, they've got separate laws for each class: as you can imagine, this isn't in any way favoring the muggle-borns, they can't even read certain books, wear their hair in certain ways, speak certain languages, have a certain amount of money, join certain regiments, all sorts of crazy things… And the punishments for violating the laws are insane! Just for looking a pureblood in the eyes without asking permission, it's a week in wizard prison, and the dementors there are given special allowances for muggle-born prisoners, no not the dementor's kiss, well depending on the crime, but there are other things they can do…"
Ron shuddered involuntarily, and swallowed hard, preparing to continue, before Harry interrupted him. "What about the half-bloods?" Harry asked, and from the look on his face, it was clear that he wasn't so certain that he wanted to know the answer.
"That's the thing Harry, there aren't any."
"What do you mean 'there aren't any,' you can't tell me there aren't any mixes, that's just ridiculous…" Harry stuttered.
"Nope, there really aren't any. All of these 'traditions' date back to European wizarding custom, the Aboriginal witches and wizards couldn't care less, but when Cook brought the muggles over, the old-wizarding families, the most harsh, stuck-up ones who wanted to go back to the 'old order' of things, went with them. Australian magical society is relatively young in comparison to Europe and other places, and it was so expensive back then, so isolated, that only the most wealthy wizards could afford it, unlike America, which was relatively cheap and filled with renegades, they haven't had much time or opportunity to change. They brought their muggle-born servants over with them, and they flourished," he spat. "But the reason there aren't any half-bloods are because of their marriage and 'breeding' laws, no one is allowed to mix or marry outside of their class, and they've got to take all sorts of percautions to prove that they are who they say they are. They've got all sorts of castes, and if a muggle-born tried to marry a pureblood, or mix with them in any way, the punishment was beyond anything… The pureblood would be banished from Australia forever, and the muggle-born, the muggle-born," Ron closed his eyes, swallowing, shaking slightly, there was no other way to say it… "The muggle-born receives the dementor's kiss, on the spot, trial or no, evidence or no, as soon as they're accused, if no prominent pureblood contests, they're given the dementor's kiss. It doesn't matter whether or not they really did it, just as long as they're accused by a pureblood, they're gone…"
"WHAT?!" Hermione screamed so loudly that even Professor Trelawney up in the North tower probably had heard her. Everyone in the hall turned to look at her, but she didn't seem to care, her eyes glinted murderously and her face had gone shock-white. Harry, after blinking a few times attained a similar look and slammed his fist into the wood so hard the table jumped about a foot in the air before he leaned in, growling, "YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!"
Ron pushed away his half-finished plate, he had lost his appetite, and waited for the rest of the students to return to their business, before continuing, still shaking slightly, "I am. I'm serious, that's their law, and it's not even the worst one either…" He shut his eyes and felt slightly sick, he refused to think about it any longer. "No, but the purebloods, they live right in the lap of luxury, barely have to move on their own. They've got everything, and the ones in the highest classes don't even go to school, they have private tutors, and they don't learn just magic either, they learn everything from dancing, to how to behave at parties, to singing, handwriting, all that sort of stuff. Just look at her eat," he gestured towards Alina, who looked more like she was dancing than eating, "you can bet she's had lessons on how to do that too… As far as they're concerned, muggle-borns are like sub-human children who are too stupid, ignorant, and vulgar to know any better, who need purebloods to protect them from themselves… Their only purpose, in their mind, is to make life easier for the purebloods. That's probably what she meant when she told you you'd forgotten your 'manners,'" he addressed Hermione, "she probably expected you to say, 'Mistress Alina, would you be so kind as to allow me to spit-shine your shoes?' That'd be what she's used to," he sneered. "Must be a rather nasty culture shock for her, coming here," he spat, disgustedly smiling in his twisted grin. "Did she say she lived on Home Bush Bay?"
Hermione nodded, still glaring, and it looked like it took a lot of effort to speak, as though it were almost painful. "But that's one thing I don't understand, Home Bush Bay is a muggle settlement, Sydney is a muggle settlement… If she lives in this whole other wizarding world, if she's so pro-pureblood, then how come she lives so close to the muggle establishment?" she puzzled, fixing Ron with a piercing glare, clearly attempting to wash certain thoughts from her over-preoccupied mind.
"C'mon Hermione," Ron mused, wary of egging at her too much, "I thought Miss Genius would have had that figured out already." He allowed himself a small laugh at the look of twisted fury on her face, but stopped himself short when he met with the un-Hermioneish glare in her eye. "It's simple, Home Bush Bay really goes in about four lengths further than the muggles even know about, but they mask it with all sorts of muggle repelling charms and spells to make it unplottable, all that lot, probably a bunch of other stuff too that I don't even know about. That's one way you know she's top dollar, no one but the elite, the cream of the crop, the top of the top, the most wealthy and most powerful have their manors on Home Bush Bay… Trust me, she's probably got a hundred times more money than Malfoy does, and just as much power and influence too… I'm starting to think Ernie may be right, who in their right mind would leave all that, and come here, right into Voldemort's waiting hands…"
"You really think she's that rich?" Harry asked, a little confused, looking to Alina and then back to Ron, "she doesn't look so wealthy, I mean, don't you think if she really had all that money she'd show it off a bit… Like Malfoy… I mean, people that wealthy –
"He was cut off by Ron, who was shaking his head vigorously, "No, no, no. That's what actually makes her higher up on the social scale than Malfoy. You see, only those in the lower-upper class of old-wizarding families show off their wealth. They want to prove they're of high standing, and make it seem as though they're worth more than they really are. Malfoy- stinking rich, yes; powerful, a bit; but quite as wealthy and powerful as he seems: no; top of the upper class: never." Ron smiled a bit at the knowledge that in reality Malfoy was in a lower-class of purebloods. "Why do you think the old Malfoy family never moved to Australia when they first had the chance?… Because the other purebloods over there would've spat on them or something. They're much more powerful right where they are. No, the people who are really wealthy, really high-class, they don't need to pretend they're so rich, because they're so secure and arrogant either they could care less whether or not anyone of the lower class knows it, or they think its obvious enough already. You can tell she's high-society at its climax because of her 'respect the muggle-borns, purebloods should know better' tangent… They're so arrogant that they think that any vulgarity is a common thing, that they're so much better because of their 'good blood' that they're supposed to set moral examples for the poor, underprivileged, stupid, unclean muggle-borns. That's probably another reason she doesn't like Malfoy, because when he was so vulgar towards you," he addressed Hermione once more, "she could tell he was lower than she was on the social scale, that he wasn't quite as 'good' as she was, because people from her social sphere would never speak or behave in such a manner. That's what makes her even worse than Malfoy. It's disgusting what they do to people over there, if she'd lived here she might have been a rather nice girl," he clicked his tongue in mock-sympathy, "social deviants are very harshly punished if they don't comply to the status quo, anyone's who's different is either weeded out or changed into another mindless zombie of class-conforming gits. What a shame," he mocked. "I'll owl Dad later and ask him what's up with this whole Petranni thing," he scribbled on his hand to remind himself and stood up, "come on, it's 1:55, we've got to get to double Potions in five minutes… I REALLY HATE MONDAYS!… What're they playing at, giving us a triple Binns, and then a double Snape, I suppose they're hoping we puke out our lunch or something… Let's forget about this stupid Australian, just thinking about the whole business makes me sick, anyway, we've got Charms, the only real class today, just before dinner, and you'll wipe the floor with her Hermione. Then she'll really know she's not in Sydney anymore!"
"Too right I will," Hermione smiled, as the three set off for the dungeons, completely unaware of what was about to happen…
~**~_~**~_~**~
Alina Petranni stepped carefully and quaintly inside the dungeons, she was one of the first people there, and she was intrigued by the dark, interesting chamber that she had encountered. She had never seen anything quite like this before, Father would never have allowed this sort of thing at home on the manor, he hated dungeons… At least, she was pretty sure, she didn't know much about her Father, and every time she tried to remedy this, he stepped away from her, icy and cold as a stone wall. Most of the time, he was more like the man she lived with than her father. She took a random seat near the front of the room, 'this ought to be interesting,' she thought to herself, after all, it was her first day at a school, and she wanted to learn everything she possibly could.
She waited, idly tapping her fingers on the desk, examining the every detail of the room carefully with her eyes as the other students filtered in. She furrowed her brow confusedly as she watched muggle-borns and purebloods sit together, weren't they going to be separated? Apparently not. She sneered slightly, not quite so sure this Hogwarts was so great as its reputation proclaimed it was. It didn't make sense, pairing up purebloods with muggle-borns, it was like, what was that old muggle adage? Pairing apples with oranges? Something like that. She sighed deeply, sinking into her chair, could she be forgetting her muggle history, her muggle studies, already? 'C'mon Alina,' she told herself, 'pull yourself together, you've got to adjust if you want to fit in here!'… But it didn't seem to make any sense at all, the way these things worked at this Hogwarts, she didn't like the idea of having so many muggle-borns in class… It wasn't that she had any particular problem with muggle-borns, it was just that she was positive that they would be slowing the class down, and she was not a very patient person when it came to that lot. After all, muggle-borns are much less adept at magic than purebloods, right? It was a fact of life, each and every tutor she'd ever had had bestowed this knowledge on her, and she had put infinite faith in her tutors. Her tutors were all she'd had, even if they were only teaching some tiresome, tedious subject like the way to serve tea or something of that nature. The social graces were always a boring study. Whatever subject they may have taught, however, her tutors were the only people who ever offered her an escape from that world that she was suffocating in, the only people who offered her a light at the end of the tunnel. When she was studying or reading she didn't have to think about where she was, how lonely she'd been, or how hurt she really felt; she'd be lost in another world entirely, and it was for this reason that she was addicted to books, to study, to quidditch and other physical pursuits even, to anything that offered her a way out of her life at the manor.
She was jerked from her thoughts by the entrance of a man with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin, wearing a rather mean expression, presumably the teacher. She recognized him instantly, Severus Snape, she had had lessons on this as well, on the pureblood families, who they were, how to recognize them, and the history behind them. 'Oh, perfect,' she said sarcastically to herself, 'Father's favorite. This is going to be a happy lesson, so glad I sat in the front.' Her father had lectured her at length on why Severus Snape was such a horrid person: nasty, bitter, back-stabbing, vengeful git, he had made him out to be. Father had come to Hogwarts in his fifth year too, his parents had sent him out of their manor in Greece to live with his cousins in England because of the nasty violence that was happening because of the Muggle-Born Civil Rights Movement at home… She shuddered as she recalled the horrors her father had once told her, the horrors she had studied about, thinking 'all the more reason to agree with that muggle Confucious in his stressing the need to keep the order…"
She pulled herself back to Earth as she realized that Snape was calling role, "Miss Patil… ahhh…" He smiled in a very disturbing manner as he met eyes with Alina "Miss Petranni," it seemed to be paining him to pronounce her name, "our new celebrity," what was he talking about? "Potter, you've got competition." Was this some sort of insult, trying to remind her of the fact that everyone was already talking behind her back, already hating her, on her first day? She glared at him as he continued to take the role, already beginning to detest him, but stopping abruptly, forcing herself to think straight. She wasn't going to hate him, she wasn't going to allow herself any feelings toward the man, she refused to give him that much power over her, to give him that sort of satisfaction. She would show him…
Half-way into the lesson, as she was brewing her potion, that, that man approached her. She wasn't worried, she knew her potion was just fine. "You must tell your father I said hello," he smiled twistedly. She concentrated with all her might on hiding just how nervous he made her, and she was an expert at emotionless behavior, after all, hadn't she had her whole life to learn from her father? It was what she did in her free time, when she was bored, she studied people, their movements, their expressions, their insides, just what made them tick, and how they did it. She had inherited her brilliant psychological skills, along with her brilliant acting skills from her mother, this and not much more she had managed to gather, since Father so rarely spoke of her. Snape must have been put off by her emotionless behavior, so he pursued the subject further, "My, my, my, won't old Demetrius be so disappointed when he discovers just how poorly his daughter is doing here…"
This was getting difficult, she was most certainly not a patient person, and Snape's presence seemed to shorten her already abysmally quick-tempered fuse considerably. She considered killing him, just to get him out of the way… Wait a minute… Had she just considered murder? What was going on? 'Oh please,' she pleaded with herself, 'not another attack, not another fit, not here, not now! This can't be happening, it just can't!' It wasn't the first time these dark thoughts had invaded her psyche, in fact, considering just how long they had been frequenting her, one would've thought she'd of gotten used to them by now.
Severus Snape forged ahead, completely unaware that the fifteen year old girl sitting just underneath his glare had seriously contemplated his murder just a moment before, nor that she had the power to do so, if she so chose. "In all my years of study, Miss Petranni, I have found all Australians to be very stupid, dear, dear, I had hoped you'd prove me wrong, I guess not… You've disappointed me Alina."
She shivered as he pronounced her first name, she didn't like the thought of someone so low addressing her in such a manner. Doubtless he knew the damage he was doing, 'and here I am losing control,' she screamed angrily at herself, 'come on, you're letting him win! Just stop thinking, that's the ticket… but no, you're STILL THINKING! SHUT UP!… This is useless… Come on Alina, he's not worth you, he's not worth you working yourself up. Don't lose control, don't lose control! You'll be playing right into his hands! Can't let him win, he just wants to see you lower yourself to the level of a commoner!… Sometimes I wish I was a muggle-born, I'd be able to say and do whatever I please, and no one would think any the worse of me… LOOK AT YOURSELF! What are you thinking? You want to be a muggle-born? Ugh,' she sneered at herself, disgusted, 'you disgrace the name of a pureblood. What would they say? You've brought shame to your family and your class… the same thing I told that Malfoy git, but I deserve it… I've contemplated murder, I've allowed myself angry thoughts, and wished myself a muggle-born all in about two seconds: I've shirked off my responsibilities in search of some lower, crude sort of freedom, I should be ashamed of myself!'
She hung her head in shame, her first day and already she'd managed to bung it up royally… But it wasn't long before anger began to overpower her once more, after all, if only that Snape, snake of a man, hadn't provoked her… She knew that being a pureblood she wasn't supposed to be susceptible to such provocation, after all, she was above that, wasn't she?… At the moment she didn't really care. As though she was physically paralyzed from the shoulders down, she let her eyes do what the rest of her could not. She swung her head up at Snape, so angry that her aura of ultimate power seemed more dangerous than ever. She watched with a dark, angry sort of euphoria as the teacher stumbled backwards in fear as she glared at him. Her stare was so powerful that anyone who looked directly into her yellow-green irises would've sworn that she was murdering him with her eyes. She smiled a twisted sort of smile and hissed at him in Parseltongue as she watched him fall over the desk behind, potion spilling all over his face, appalled and frightened. Who could blame him though? She knew just how much fear she could inspire with just one glance. She knew how powerful her eyes were… After all, it wasn't the first time she had brought fully-grown wizards to her feet just by looking at them. Everyone was watching her now, and she reveled in the fear that was engulfing the room, stagnating the air. She was in control, she felt the ultimate power she had rush over her like darkness, filling her every nerve with a flighty sort ecstasy.
The feeling of darkness and euphoria left however, just as quickly and easily as it had come, leaving her feeling a bit dumbfounded and dazed, not quite sure what had happened. Snape, who had stood up and fixed himself by this point, noticed that she had softened, and took advantage of this. He had never been so humiliated in his life, it was apparent. Alina wondered vaguely just what had happened to embarrass him so much. He was looking at her, uh oh. "Fifty points from Gryffindor for that insubordinate glare of yours!" he shouted at her. "I shall notify the headmaster of this."
"No problem," she heard herself say, everyone was staring at her, but something in her was happy with this, she'd show them all what it meant to make an enemy of her, "I could take on Dumbledore anytime." She gasped, slapping her hand over mouth, had she just said what she thought she had? Oh God, it was happening again wasn't it? It was as though someone had slapped her in the face, and she remembered everything… "I… I… I'm sorry Professor, I… I…" this was going to sound so stupid, "I didn't know what I was saying…" she stumbled, panicking, her voice slipped into a tone about five octaves higher than usual, and, and, were those tears she was holding back? Were those tears choking up her throat? No… No way, she hadn't cried in nearly six years, and she refused to allow herself to demonstrate any such weakness, any such vulnerability, especially not here, especially not now. She regained control of herself, and although her voice was shaky, it had once again attained relative normalcy, "I don't know what came over me Professor."
The Potions Master looked pensive, he was staring at her with the utmost loathing, and, something else, could it be… sympathy? Perhaps the Professor actually recognized some of his own feelings inside of this girl, this stupid girl, perhaps it was something else. Perhaps we'll never know. All that really matters is that he let her off the hook that day. "Seeing as it's your first day, Miss Petranni, I will not punish you further," the other students gasped, half shocked, half outraged, "however… However," he said, regaining his resolve, as though he didn't want anyone to think he had gone soft on her, "if you so much as hint at such behavior again, I will personally see to it that you are expelled! Do you understand?"
"Yes sir," she said, solemn and stony, although her voice held no trace of shame. Outwardly, she seemed perfectly cool, calm, and collected, confident, blasphemous even, but this was a lie if anything at all. As I have doubtless told you, she was a very good actress… Come to think of it, she indirectly told you this whole section hasn't she? The important question now is, how trustworthy is she as a narrator? How truthful has she been?
~**~_~**~_~**~
Harry was sitting with Hermione and Ron, both opposite him, at dinner. They had just gotten out of Charms, the only enjoyable class that day, but his mind was still in Potions…
"I can't believe it!" he almost screamed, outraged, "I can't believe he let her off! You know if that had been me, I would've been executed!" He couldn't help but feel at least a little angry…
"I know," Ron said, eerily, "but did you see her eyes?" Harry and Hermione nodded, "That was downright creepy that was." He shivered.
"It was worse than creepy," Hermione added, she finally seemed to have got her personality back, "she had everyone mortified! She had me scared out of my wits, she had everyone scared out of their wits. I mean, Snape was practically about to wet his pants!"
Harry grinned a bit at the thought of Snape that terrified of a mere Gryffindor, 'must be tormenting him,' but his smile faded rather quickly, "I don't blame him… That look, it was like… Well, I don't think there's any words to describe it… Almost like she was to killing him with her eyes… I don't think anyone wants to get on the wrong side of that glare." His friends nodded, their eyes showing just how enthusiastic their agreement was…
By now the story had spread like wildfire to the entire school, of course, who could expect anything else? The details of the tale however, were completely different by the time they found their way back to Harry's ears. Without realizing that Harry had been present during the class he was speaking of, Ernie MacMillan came up to Harry and addressed him directly, "Did you hear? That new girl, Alina Petranni? Apparently, in Potions today, she tried to telepathically kill Professor Snape, and she challenged Dumbledore to a wizard's duel, and then changed a bit, and tried to summon Voldemort into the room! Some Death Eater came in and knocked Snape out, and she ran out of the classroom shouting 'DEATH TO ALL MUDBLOODS! THE DARK LORD IS COMING!' Sorry about my language Hermione," he addressed her, "but I thought you ought to know, she's sleeping in your dormitory isn't she? I would do anything I could if I were you, she'd probably kill you in your sleep. And you," he addressed Harry once more, "I would watch out especially if I were you, I told you she was a Death Eater…"
Harry was fighting down fits of hysterical laughter at the ridiculousness of this when he saw Ernie's face go shock white. He followed the Hufflepuff's gaze above their heads, and found the answer to his fright… Standing right behind Hermione was the very last person anyone, least of all Ernie, apparently, wanted to see at the moment… Yup, you guessed it… Glowing with a fury unknown to mankind, her every feature lit with rage, her dark, russet-glow-red hair like hell fire, stood Alina Petranni, and Harry could tell from the expression on her face that she had heard every word he had said. From the look on Ernie's face, he saw, as he swallowed hard, that it must have been costing him all he had not to run away and never return, and Harry couldn't blame him in the least. Her eyes were blazing with icy-cold fire, and it didn't help that at that very moment lightning flashed across the magically enchanted ceiling. The aura of power was hellishly apparent, and her glare was, while not nearly as murderous as the one that she had fixed Snape with, venemous as though she was using those eyes to stab Ernie with one of those poisoned blades… Harry swallowed, forcing Intermundia from his mind before he could contemplate it any further.
The forced calm in her voice was horribly unnerving "I would suggest, MacMillan," she hissed, "that if you were going to warn anyone with such stories, that you get your facts straight. Rather presumptuous of you to so readily accept such tales, isn't it? I wonder MacMillan, how you dare think me a Death Eater, how you dare think me a murderer?"
Ernie's voice was trembling worse than anything, but no one could blame him, after all, Alina was sounding horribly like a more human Lord Voldemort. Something in Harry's memory demanded to be noticed… She sounded like Tom Riddle, she sounded like a feminine Tom Riddle, the memory Harry had met in the Chamber of Secrets in his second year. The little hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Ernie spoke in that trembling voice, "You can't frighten me into silence Petranni," Harry wasn't sure how true that statement was, "I know all about you and that family of yours. You may think you have the run of the school, you and your friends, but everyone knows you're a Death Eater, and you will not silence us! You'll get yours!"
Alina looked on the verge of explosion, but she was keeping a good portion of her anger in check, it seemed, "MacMillan, you're more stupid than I thought. How you could be so gullible, it surprises even me. Do you really believe that if I had pulled a stunt like that I would still be here? And you of all people should know that one of my background would never use such language; and me, a Death Eater? I have more respect for myself and for my class than to sink so low as to follow a murderer, more respect for myself and my class than to sink so low as to use such language… I have standards for myself, being pureblooded I know what's expected of me, and I uphold the honor of my family as such, I refuse to sink to the level of a commoner… I'm sorry to say that you, obviously, have no such standards, no such respect for yourself, no such respect for your class… Have you no shame?… You are a DISGRACE!" And with that, she stomped away, fuming. She left the Great Hall. Harry supposed she had lost her appetite, but felt only minimal sympathy, he was still angry with her for the things she kept saying about muggle-borns, purebloods, and classes. 'And besides,' he reminded himself uneasily, only half-believing what he was telling himself, 'she shouldn't have done such a good impression of a Dark witch and scared everyone silly in Potions if she wanted everyone to think so highly of her.'
Ernie ambled off to sit with his friends, who were all looking at him as though he had stood up to Voldemort himself, and the trio glanced edgily at each other. Hermione stuffed a forkful of dinner in her mouth and ran up to the library to look up that powerful glare Alina had about her (Surprise, surprise). Harry and Ron finished their supper, chatting evasively about anything but the events that just transpired, and then went up to the owlery to ask Mr. Weasley about the Petranni family, before, (how exciting!) forcing themselves to do their Charms and History of Magic homework (they didn't have Potions again until Friday), although their minds were clearly elsewhere.
~**~_~**~_~**~
Alina Petranni slammed the Portrait behind her, too angry and upset to be glad to finally be alone, as everyone else was enjoying their dinner, she reminded herself. "I hope they all choke on it and die!" she proclaimed aloud to no one at all, though even she seriously doubted that she really meant it. She was filled with so much emotion, so many emotions, all so intense that she felt overpowered completely, like she was either about to burst into tears or hex the first person she saw, she couldn't decide which. She screamed as loud as she possibly could, kicking the nearest armchair, hoping to unleash some of the anguish she felt in her soul. All in vain, if anything, she felt even worse. Desperate, shaking, afraid, unbelievably vulnerable, she ran up to her dormitory; she didn't trust herself not to cry if she didn't at least move some.
She slammed the fifth-year girls dormitory in same fashion she had the Portrait, still feeling unsatisfied, unfulfilled. She looked at her reflection in her mirror above her bedside table and was filled with an indescribable hatred. She hated Severus Snape, she hated that stupid Hufflepuff Ernie MacMillan, but most of all, she hated herself. It took all the strength she had in her not cry, and even then she only just blinked the tears from streaming from her eyes. "Look at yourself" she said aloud, acidly, "just look at what you've become! You're as good as crying! CRYING DO YOU HEAR ME!" she screamed at her reflection. "YOU'VE BECOME A WEAK, SNIVELING LITTLE BABY! FIRST YOU COMPLETELY LOSE CONTROL IN POTIONS! THEN YOU LOSE YOU'RE TEMPER OVER THAT STUPID HUFFLEPUFF MACMILAN…" 'He deserved it,' she thought to herself.
Growling with anger and self-loathing she screamed back at herself in the mirror, "THAT'S NO EXCUSE! AND NOW LOOK, YOU'RE SCREAMING AT YOURSELF IN A MIRROR… WHAT'S HAPPENED TO YOU? WHAT WERE YOU EXPECTING, FRIENDSHIP?" She flinched, apparently she had hit a nerve somewhere inside of herself, she had never had any real friends, not now, not in Australia, not ever. She wasn't charismatic in the least. She was a misfit. She never belonged, no matter where she went, she had never belonged anywhere. No matter where she went, it was always the same, she was always alone. She didn't even have her father for comfort, even he didn't seem to want to love her either. She whimpered slightly, once more fighting back tears… "GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!" she yelled, "BE STRONG FOR GOD'S SAKE!" she shook the mirror, trying to wash it all from her memory, but to no avail. Back in Australia she had been so unhappy, but had always managed to lose herself in her studies, always managed to hide away from what she was sure internally was a coroded, horrible person. She had been the social deviant if anyone had, and oh how they had punished her for it. She had been so incredibly happy just to escape to all that, to have a chance to start somewhere new, somewhere else… And here she was, with everyone hating her all over again… Some things never change… She screamed again, and once more, it healed nothing… "AND NOW EVERYONE SUSPECTS THAT YOU'RE A DEATH EATER!" 'Well of course,' she reminded herself mentally, 'not doing a very good job of being inconspicuous are you?' Under better circumstances she might have laughed off that last statement, but here she was, staring at the mirror, hating herself and her reflection, a veritable emotional wreck, swept off her feet (and not in a good way either) by a tidal wave of a torrent of emotions. Still not crying, something she had taught herself to do a very long time ago, she thought of herself in Australia. "You never belonged there and you knew it, YOU KNEW IT! But you put on that mask anyway, you played false so much that you became false! YOU WEAK MONSTER! YOU PATHETIC WEAK MONSTER! How often did you cry out against the corrupt, unjust laws, and here you are, spouting their ideals. You make me sick. Do you hear me? I SAID, YOU MAKE ME SICK! YOU SHALLOW, EMPTY, HEARTLESS MACHINE! You-put-on-that-mask-because-you-were-too-weak-to-deal-with-the-pain, YOU PUT ON THE MASK! AND YOU KNEW IT! AND LOOK AT WHAT IT'S DONE TO YOU!… WHAT WERE YOU EXPECTING, THAT THE MASK WOULD FALL TO THE FLOOR AS SOON AS YOU LEFT? ARE YOU REALLY THAT STUPID?! HOW CAN YOU BE SUCH A MORON? You stupid, silly BITCH!" Now she was acting less like the perfect little pureblood than she ever had in her entire life, being more vulgar and unpleasant than she ever had in her entire life, and she didn't care at all and felt horribly guilty all at once. She wasn't the perfect little pureblood everyone expected her to be, that everyone wanted her to be, that everyone needed her to be, that she needed herself to be. She would never be good enough for anyone, for herself, and it was eating away at her insides. Feeling a million times more dirty when she half-realized this, she punched her reflection right square on its perfectly stuck-up nose. Her left fist was bleeding. She discovered that she didn't care. She ripped a weak leg off of a table and used it to bash her mirror, to shatter it, to shatter her reflection, which had taunted her so horribly, into tiny slithers of glass… Because maybe then it couldn't hurt her anymore? That was a chance she had to take, something in her demanded of it. Now that the mask had begun to fall, this was what she had become? This was who she really was inside? Oh God, oh please, this couldn't be her… "THIS CAN'T BE ME!" she screamed, "THIS IS NOT ME! I WON'T LET IT BE! IT CAN'T BE! IT JUST CAN NOT BE!"… And then, suddenly quiet, in a weak voice she stared at her own hands, "This can not be me. Please don't let this be the real me. This can not be me, can it?" Her anger returned, and along with it, her menacing, self-hating yell, "YOU BITCH! CAN'T YOU SEE, YOU'RE AN EMPTY, WEAK, HEARTLESS, SOULESS, SHALLOW MONSTER! CAN'T YOU SEE? YOU STUPID, STUPID BITCH!"…
And then she was done, it was over. She collapsed onto the floor and curled up like a small child, still fighting tooth and nail against the tears that so longed to escape her. She was shaking like she never had before, and she whispered to herself, in a voice so hoarse, so horribly barely audible that it was quaking with emotion, "What's happened to me?… I'm a monster, I'm a monster…" She lay there for a long time, plagued with sadness and melancholy, plagued with hurt beyond all things… It was as though in shattering the mirror she had shattered herself, and sure enough, here she was, almost crying, reduced to that of a small child, shaking, whispering, curled up on the floor, the hurt so heavy that she could barely breathe, the hurt so much she was so dazed out she couldn't even think… Until at last, she fell into the first peaceful, easy slumber she had had in a long time, and for the first time in a long time, she deserved it.
~**~_~**~_~**~
"Ah, poor little Alina," the Dark Lord smiled twistedly to himself as he watched the broken girl on the floor from the window in his mind. "Not much longer my pet," he grinned evilly at Nagini, curled up on his lap, "not much longer until we can strike at her… She is broken… She is weak… I'll bet her 'poor, little soul' is shattered." He smiled manically as he mocked her, his scarlet eyes gleaming dangerously in the moonlight. He sighed, rising and walking to the prison-like window of his throne room, letting Nagini fall to the ground with absolutely no remorse, "But it is too soon. It is disappointing I know, but it is too soon… We must be patient, wait until the perfect moment to strike, when she is most vulnerable, most likely to agree… And beware little Alina Petranni, for that time is coming sooner than you may think…" He smiled to himself as he imagined the pain she must be feeling, and the unspeakable pain she would feel when he finally had her… This was going to be most amusing…
~**~_~**~_~**~
Surprisingly enough, Ron's father had responded extremely quickly. Indeed, it was unusual for a student to send out an owl after dinner and receive a response at lunch the next day. It must have been terribly important… Slightly apprehensive, they opened it up and unfolded the letter, expecting many things, only to find the following:
Listen, I can't really tell you anything in a letter, it's too dangerous… We'll just have to wait until we see each other again face to face. Are you sure her name is Alina Petranni? If you're absolutely, positively certain, in the mean time, until I can see you again, I have only one thing to tell you, and it's of a life-or-death importance, so HEED MY WORD:
STEER CLEAR OF THAT GIRL AND ANYONE WITH WHOM SHE MAY BE ASSOCIATED. THAT FAMILY IS TROUBLE. DO NOT TRUST ONE WORD SHE SAYS, SHE EXTREMELY DANGEROUS!
Love, Dad
~**~_~**~_~**~
Author's Note:
Wow, that was another long one, huh? I didn't think it would end up being that lengthy, o well, hope you enjoyed it. That chapter went in a completely diff direction than what I had planned. Again, im not quite satisfied, but im more satisfied than I usually m, for some reason, so I suppose that's an improvement. So, what do u think of Alina? This ought to b interesting. I hope iv left u with a bit of questions in ur mind… neways I think ill thank my reviewers…
Abbey: wow, jeez grl u give me way too much credit, but thanx neway!
Princess: thanx, yes and get on ch 18 already will u?! sheesh.
Jedi Cosmos: thanx, I hope I cleared that up
Amadeus: ::grumbles again:: thank u neway, but I basically wrote all I have to say about that in my e-mail
Jona: really? Wow, thanx Jo! I made u feel bad? Awwww… good, that was the pt… yes I hoped I would b able to capture old Voldies evilness. I made u lose sleep? Cool! Hehe
SEEKER_2000: u have no idea how right u r ::grins deviously:: something freaky IS going on, just what im not quite sure
Ady: ::ducks out of the way:: jeez, thanx alright! Ur right I m dark, every tiem I try to have a nice, normal, dark-free ch it ends up w/those undertones, I guess I really m evil mwah-ha-ha