Barry Potter - Chapter 5
"...my niece, Alden Dumbledore."
The murmurs rose at the name. Harry leaned over to Ron. "Who's she?"
Ron sat gazing with rapt attention up at the stage. Harry tapped him on the shoulder, repeating his question. Ron blinked at him in disbelief for a few seconds, then decided that his friend genuinely didn't know. "That's Alden Dumbledore, better known as the Black Menace."
"Isn't 'Alden' a boy's name?"
"What's your point?"
"Forget it. Why's she called the Black Menace?"
"You mean you've really never heard of her?" Harry shook his head. "She's only the best Quidditch player west of the Atlantic."
"West of the Atlantic?"
"Yeah, she plays for America. She's amazing to watch. Been on the International Team as a sub since she was 6, and playing full time since she was 9. But she's British. Her parents were killed by You-Know-Who a few days before he disappeared. Her uncle sent her to America for safety reasons," Ron concluded, with a shake of his head, "But who'd have thought he was her uncle."
He gestured with his head at Dumbledore, who stood gazing with still sparkling eyes down at his distracted students. Harry frowned.
"Why'd he ship a Quidditch player over from America as a security measure?"
"Because," answered Hermione breathlessly, "She also happens to be the third most powerful wizard alive today."
Harry studied Alden critically, taking in her figure, eyes, and attitude. She had crossed her arms over her chest and was leaning her weight onto one foot, indifferent to the small commotion she had triggered. She seemed as indifferent to the attention as Harry wished he could be. His frown grew deeper.
"She looks pretty average to me."
"Harry!" Hermione gasped, appalled that he had had the audacity to say such a thing, "Listen to me! She received top marks on her N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s. She has licenses to Apperate and Transfigureate. She's been working with the English & American Ministries of Magic for years now as an Aurorer, refilling about 1/3 of the cells in Azkaban and 1/2 in Nabrazak. Harry, she's 17 years old and she has an Order of Merlin!"
Harry gulped, swinging his eyes with new respect toward the stage. He shuddered as his eyes met Alden's. He waited for the familiar flick to his scar, but it never came. The two-tone eyes scrutinized him carefully, then flickered on as though they had never stopped on Harry. There was something about her easy grace, her flashing eyes, and the way they glimmered as they passed over the students. Harry couldn't tell what the feeling was, but he didn't like it. He felt a sense of foreboding, a feeling of dread at the pit of his stomach. He watched a small smile play over her lips, and suddenly he recognized the feeling radiating from this awesome being: it was an overwhelming sense of doom.
Dumbledore waited until his audience had drifted into a somewhat dazed silence. With a smile, he began again. "During the day, Alden will be in and among all of you. However, due to a shortage of space, she will be sorted into a house. She will only remain exclusively with this house at night. She will in no other way have a preference to this house, so rest assured that you will all be protected equally. Dear, if you would please step up to the hat..."
Alden strode silently forward. All eyes were on her as she sat, lifting the hat and placing it calmly on her head. There was a barely audible intake of breath as the other students waited.
There was a long pause.
Someone coughed.
Another, longer pause. Then finally,
"GRYFFINDOR..."
There was a hint of the old Hogwarts spirit in Gryffindor's applause to this. Alden set the hat down again, but instead of heading for her new table she leaned over the staff table, whispering to her uncle. Dumbledore's bright eyes twinkled as he nodded. He gestured to Snape, who slowly slouched over to them as if dreading what he seemed to know was coming. The three spoke in undertones, Snape's face livid with disgust. Soon he sighed, and, nodding, swept silently off to the Great Hall doors. Alden's eyes followed him triumphantly. He opened one of the doors and beckoned in those on the other side. A young woman entered.
Her long blonde hair swayed gently as her blue eyes swept over the room. On the tallish side, her presence was almost as commanding as those on the stage. She exchanged friendly smiles with Alden, and took a few steps into the room. Harry gasped. Her floating movement, combined with her hair, eyes, and pale skin made her look a bit like a Veela. She paused, turning toward the door. She reached out a long pale hand and pulled another young woman into the Hall.
The second had darting golden eyes that tried to take in the whole room at once. Jet-black hair brushed the back of her neck as she glanced over her shoulder. The blonde took a firmer grip on her hand and began steering her toward the stage, whispering. Snape snapped the doors shut, following the girls sullenly. They reached the stage quickly. Alden smiled again, hugging both girls in turn. Dumbledore yet again began again.
"Dear students, it appears to me that I was mistaken. We shall be honored by 3 guests this year, not one. I am pleased to present Kayla and Silvia Moone. My dears, the hat..."
There was a smaller, less excited murmur at these names. Harry glanced at Ron, looking for some explanation.
"Americans," Ron muttered to Harry, "Horace Moone's kids. He was the American Minister of Magic for a few years before he disappeared. That one's Kayla. She works for the Ministry, I forget which department." He gestured up at the blonde, who was lowering the hat onto her head. As they waited, Ron added, "The other one's Silvia. She's on the radio all the time, got a beautiful voice. Mum says she sings like a lark, whatever that means. She tried to get into the Ministry a bit of a while ago, but it didn't work out."
"How come you know so much about them?"
"How come people know so much about you?"
"I'm famous."
"They're Horace Moone's kids. They are too."
"RAVENCLAW!"
Kayla smiled as Ravenclaw applauded. She gracefully took the hat off and handed it to her sister. Silvia placed the cap on her straight black hair, and it cried out almost immediately,
"RAVENCLAW!"
There was more applause as Silvia sighed with apparent relief. She slipped out of the hat and gently placed it on the stool. Her hand sought Kayla's. The older girl smiled sadly at her little sister, gripping her skinny hand tightly in her own. Silvia glanced around the room again, appearing 7 rather than 17. Alden placed a gentle hand on her back, and Silvia seemed visibly calmed. The two Moones walked to the Ravenclaw table, talking to each other in low undertones. As they sat a few girls edged toward them, and they stopped whispering. Alden said a few more words to her uncle, then walked slowly down to the Gryffindor table.
"Come-on," Harry heard Ron hiss, "Sit here, sit here..." He had moved over enough to leave half an empty seat between himself and Harry. Instead, to all of their surprise, Alden swung herself into the seat directly across from them. She smiled, her eyes darting once up and down the table before settling on Ron.
"So you're the Weasly's younger brother?"
"Wha- what?" Ron managed to stammer.
"You're Fred and George's younger brother, aren't you?"
"Well, um, yeah. How'd you know?"
"Oh, come off it. They never told you they knew me?"
"No... How did they know you?"
"I visited the school during their first year. We were all Quidditch fans, so it was a quick match. Do they still make joke shop things?"
"Yeah, yeah, they're still thinking of opening a joke shop one day."
"Say, have they ever made Canary Creams?"
"Sure, quite a hit at Hogwarts and around Hogsmeade."
Alden laughed, a clear robust sound that seemed to sweep over the friends, making them all feel a bit giggly themselves. Her eyes sparkled as she explained, "That was one of my ideas. I've got to get them to send me some."
She flashed Ron a smaller, private smile, then her eyes danced on to Hermione. "You must be Hermione Granger."
"Ye-yes!" Hermione gasped. She seemed overwhelmed by the other girl, whose bright eyes searched her stunned face briefly.
"You're the one who won the Scholastic to W University, right?"
"Yes," Hermione seemed to have found her voice now, "And I must say that it is quite, quite an honor to meet you. I have never, ever i-"
Alden held up her hand, shaking her head with a grin. "No, no, pleasure's all mine. My uncle and the teachers talk about you all the time over the summer."
She lowered her voice, leaning toward Hermione. "To tell you the truth, you all ways sounded a bit hopelessly in love with books to me. But then," she added with a wink, raising her voice back up, "Who am I to talk?"
Alden turned her gaze now at Dean, who seemed caught between being sad, admiring Alden, and trying to get a glimpse of the Moones over her shoulder. Her grin drew into a broad smile. "You're Dean Thomas."
Dean jumped at hearing his name. He had been temporarily transfixed as he gazed across the room at the Moone sisters, who were laughing quietly with their new friends. He tilted his head, looking inquisitively at Alden's secret smile.
"I knew it had to be you," she explained, still smiling. "I remember when Silvia got your first fan letter. It was so sweet. How did it start? Oh! It was 'Dear Silvia, the Grea-"
"Yeah, yeah, I remember that one!" Dean blushed furiously while Alden bit her lip, holding in her laughter.
"Silvia's always liked getting letters from you, Dean." she added with a mischievous grin. She glanced over her shoulder, then said, "You know, if you'd like to meet them..."
She stifled a chuckle. Dean glanced once more over her shoulder before catching Alden's eye. He blushed an even deepened color, hiding his face in his arms. Hermione as well seemed to be nearly choking with the desire to burst out laughing. Ron patted Dean on the back, biting his lip as well.
Harry alone remained unaffected. His bright green eyes had not left Alden's own shining ones since she had sat down. There was something about those eyes... They looked familiar, but wrong. Harry frowned again. He had gotten into the habit of frowning a lot since Hermione had once told him, in a burst of sheer intimacy, that frowning made him look "sexy". He closed his eyes for a second, trying to picture her eyes in some different context. Faces flashed through his mind, all with Alden's colorful eyes. They looked fine on Dumbledore, but then he was her uncle. They looked somewhat correct on Snape, Harry would ask about that. Then he gulped. They matched exactly the pale, snake-like eyes of Tom Riddle.
He opened his eyes and for one wild second thought that Voldemort was in front of him. He blinked, and with a sigh of relief saw that it was only Alden who sat before him. Her eyes were cutting sharply into his own. He shuddered again, realizing that in some ways he wished it had been Voldemort before him.
Her voice, softer and a tad icier, broke through his thoughts. "So you must be Harry Potter."
Despite the situation, Harry smirked. "How'd you figure that out?"
"Process of elimination."
Harry's smirk faded. The sincerity of the girl's voice had brought his ego down with a sharp thud. His eyes blazed a little angrily at her, but his fire was quickly extinguished by her icy gaze. Harry felt a twinge in his scar as Alden peered deeper into his eyes. He felt as though as cold, black hand had reached into his head and was gently groping around for something. The feeling was so chilling that he felt the need to break eye contact, but something hidden inside him wouldn't let him. 'Turn away, turn away!' he yelled at himself, struggling to avert his eyes or at least close them. Two bright lights glowed in front of him. One was green, the other purple. Then suddenly they were brown, a pale yet muddy brown, then they were yellow, then red... snake-like and red...
"Harry?"
He blinked. Everyone was looking at him. Alden said again, "Harry?"
"Huh?"
"What did you just say?"
Harry thought. He hadn't just said anything, had he? He gulped, hoping he hadn't said anything he would regret. "Er... nothing, nothing at all."
Alden's eyes narrowed slightly. "No really, what did you just say? It sounded like you were asking me a question, but I couldn't quite hear..." Her eyes grew wide and friendly again as she added playfully, "Don't worry, there isn't much you can ask that I can't tell you the answer to."
Harry cast around for a good question, but all he could think about were those eyes that were now looking at him. They seemed quite harmless now, really. A bit emboldened by the change in Alden's eyes, Harry decided to ask, "Are you related to Snape?"
"Yes."
"What?!" all the friends gasped. Alden raised an eyebrow.
"What's wrong with that?"
"Snape... well, he's Snape, but you... you're... you aren't..." Ron stammered, expressing Harry, Dean, and Hermione's own astonishment as well.
Alden's grin returned. "I get it. You hate him, but I seem nice enough." They all nodded. "Snape's my cousin by marriage. My other uncle's wife was his aunt. So I'm not directly related to him," her smile flashed larger for a moment, "Don't worry."
'God', Harry thought, 'Is there anything she isn't?'
"What happened to your eyes?" he asked aloud.
Alden was silent for a moment. The eyes in question were cast down on the table, thoughtful. They suddenly flashed with anger, but in the same second they grew sad and melancholy. Then she look up at Harry, eyes neutral once again. In a calm voice she said simply, "Curse scar."
Harry started. Then his famous ego kicked in. 'How original,' he thought, 'Parents killed by Voldemort, so-called curse scar, powerful wizard, damn good looking... she's trying to steal my life. What's she ever done that I haven't done? Okay, so she has an Order of Merlin and stuff, but I'm sure I deserve it all too.'
He searched Alden's face for some sign of jealousy or falsehood that would betray the fact that she was only parroting his life story with some embellishments. Her lovely face, however, was quiet, thoughtful and sad. In the corner of her green eye Harry thought he saw a tear, but she blinked a few times and it was gone. Harry glanced over his friends to gage their reaction. They all looked quiet as well, contemplating her words or perhaps his own. Hermione broke the silence, saying softly, "You'll have to forgive him. He hasn't read much about the Americas or modern history at all. He couldn't have known..."
Ron and Dean nodded, muttering hushed apologies. Harry quite suddenly felt another sinking feeling. Only this time, it wasn't of dread or terror: it was of pure, pure shame.
Then he realized that he couldn't have known, like Hermione said, thus he needn't feel any shame in not knowing. Plus, he remembered, he was Harry Potter. He gazed inquisitively at Alden, feigning the complete innocence to the wizarding world he had had before Hogwarts. Her eyes looked again into his, and with a sigh she began,
"Yes, it's much like your story. You wouldn't know it but sadly many are. Children who wake up to find their parents murdered, gone forever in the blink of an eye. Or worse, those forced to watch it. My father... by the time I was born my father had left. My mother had my half-brother by her first marriage to deal with, and she couldn't cope with keeping me as well. So she went to find my father, bringing me and Toby with her. I can't remember all to much of my early days, but I can still remember Toby's face. He was my half-brother, and in so many ways my guardian angel. He made sure I was fed every day, he kept me warm in the streets at night. My mother was a good woman, but she had nothing, just the two of us and her Hogwarts education. When... when she found my father's house, he was out for the day. But the servants knew my mother, they let her in to wait. Toby was so happy, all he could think about was how warm and good and happy things would be once we had a father again. His own father had been put to death on the charge of being a Death-Eater, so he couldn't wait to start again..."
She blinked hard a few times, and Harry was sure that the glisten in her eye was tears long unshed. As she continued, the only hint of her true feelings was an almost imperceptible quaver in her voice. "Then the master of the house came home. He brought with him an evil wrath, a feeling of hatred toward my mother. Toby hide with me in the other room, but at nights I can sometimes still hear her pathetic voice as she pled with him. Not for herself, but for us, her children. He spat on her, yelling, cursing her name. Then Voldemort overtook my father, destroying him, and killed my mother. He came into our room, full of unstoppable wrath. This much I remember clear as day. He raised his wand at us. Toby gently kissed my forehead, then pulled my in among his huge robes. Then... then Voldemort killed him. All I have left of him is this discolored eye as a scar where the curse just missed me as it killed him."
There was a deep silence, so deep that even chat at other tables seemed to die away. Harry stared at the table, ears ringing with the soft sad sound of Alden's voice. His breath came out in a little sigh, a sigh which seemed to echo through the still Great Hall. Dumbledore rose silently up, glancing at his niece's bowed head. He cleared his throat, an eruption of noise that made half the students start.
"Well, my students, as there are no other announcements to make, you are all free to go. Goodnight, I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow."
Students all over the Great Hall rose. As the slowly filed out of the doors, Ron frowned.
"I feel like we forgot something."
Hermione glanced over her shoulder. "Well, we've left Alden behind."
Harry, Ron, and Dean turned as well. Alden was still sitting at the table, only now she was resting her head on her hands, staring blankly at the wall. Ron took a step toward her, but Hermione gently grabbed his shoulder. "No," she said softly, "Let her be."
"Do you expect me to just leave her like that? What if she's contemplating suicide?"
"Um, I don't think she is, but look," Hermione gestured at her with her free hand. "Her friends are going to take care of her."
Indeed, the Moone sisters had come up behind Alden. Now Silvia reached out a thin, warm hand and placed it gently on Alden's back, sliding into the seat next to her. Kayla slipped into the other seat, whispering something to her friend. Ron reluctantly turned, and they all trooped back up to Gryffindor Tower. The boys said goodnight to Hermione and to a yawning Ginny who scampered up to her dormitory, blissfully unaware of the reflections of the others. As they crawled into bed, Harry called over to Ron.
"Odd, though, isn't she?"
"Hmm?"
"I mean, she just seems too perfect for her own good."
"Who, Alden?"
"Yeah, who else?"
"Dunno..."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Don't you think it's odd how perfect she is?"
"No." Ron yawned loudly, ending the conversation. Harry rolled over, turning over his thoughts in the warm privacy of his bed. There was so much he wanted to think about, but his head was spinning, and he was tired... so tired...
In the next bed over Ron yelped and sat up with a start. Dean and Harry turned to face him, eyes filled with terror. "What, what's wrong?"
"I've just remembered what we forgot at the Great Hall!"
"What?" Harry begged, desperate for a clue to chew over during the night.
"We forgot to have dinner. Cor, and I'm bloody hunge-"
Ron never finished his sentence as pillows flew at him from both of the other boys, hitting the back of his head and mouth with vicious accuracy for 10 o'clock at night.
"...my niece, Alden Dumbledore."
The murmurs rose at the name. Harry leaned over to Ron. "Who's she?"
Ron sat gazing with rapt attention up at the stage. Harry tapped him on the shoulder, repeating his question. Ron blinked at him in disbelief for a few seconds, then decided that his friend genuinely didn't know. "That's Alden Dumbledore, better known as the Black Menace."
"Isn't 'Alden' a boy's name?"
"What's your point?"
"Forget it. Why's she called the Black Menace?"
"You mean you've really never heard of her?" Harry shook his head. "She's only the best Quidditch player west of the Atlantic."
"West of the Atlantic?"
"Yeah, she plays for America. She's amazing to watch. Been on the International Team as a sub since she was 6, and playing full time since she was 9. But she's British. Her parents were killed by You-Know-Who a few days before he disappeared. Her uncle sent her to America for safety reasons," Ron concluded, with a shake of his head, "But who'd have thought he was her uncle."
He gestured with his head at Dumbledore, who stood gazing with still sparkling eyes down at his distracted students. Harry frowned.
"Why'd he ship a Quidditch player over from America as a security measure?"
"Because," answered Hermione breathlessly, "She also happens to be the third most powerful wizard alive today."
Harry studied Alden critically, taking in her figure, eyes, and attitude. She had crossed her arms over her chest and was leaning her weight onto one foot, indifferent to the small commotion she had triggered. She seemed as indifferent to the attention as Harry wished he could be. His frown grew deeper.
"She looks pretty average to me."
"Harry!" Hermione gasped, appalled that he had had the audacity to say such a thing, "Listen to me! She received top marks on her N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s. She has licenses to Apperate and Transfigureate. She's been working with the English & American Ministries of Magic for years now as an Aurorer, refilling about 1/3 of the cells in Azkaban and 1/2 in Nabrazak. Harry, she's 17 years old and she has an Order of Merlin!"
Harry gulped, swinging his eyes with new respect toward the stage. He shuddered as his eyes met Alden's. He waited for the familiar flick to his scar, but it never came. The two-tone eyes scrutinized him carefully, then flickered on as though they had never stopped on Harry. There was something about her easy grace, her flashing eyes, and the way they glimmered as they passed over the students. Harry couldn't tell what the feeling was, but he didn't like it. He felt a sense of foreboding, a feeling of dread at the pit of his stomach. He watched a small smile play over her lips, and suddenly he recognized the feeling radiating from this awesome being: it was an overwhelming sense of doom.
Dumbledore waited until his audience had drifted into a somewhat dazed silence. With a smile, he began again. "During the day, Alden will be in and among all of you. However, due to a shortage of space, she will be sorted into a house. She will only remain exclusively with this house at night. She will in no other way have a preference to this house, so rest assured that you will all be protected equally. Dear, if you would please step up to the hat..."
Alden strode silently forward. All eyes were on her as she sat, lifting the hat and placing it calmly on her head. There was a barely audible intake of breath as the other students waited.
There was a long pause.
Someone coughed.
Another, longer pause. Then finally,
"GRYFFINDOR..."
There was a hint of the old Hogwarts spirit in Gryffindor's applause to this. Alden set the hat down again, but instead of heading for her new table she leaned over the staff table, whispering to her uncle. Dumbledore's bright eyes twinkled as he nodded. He gestured to Snape, who slowly slouched over to them as if dreading what he seemed to know was coming. The three spoke in undertones, Snape's face livid with disgust. Soon he sighed, and, nodding, swept silently off to the Great Hall doors. Alden's eyes followed him triumphantly. He opened one of the doors and beckoned in those on the other side. A young woman entered.
Her long blonde hair swayed gently as her blue eyes swept over the room. On the tallish side, her presence was almost as commanding as those on the stage. She exchanged friendly smiles with Alden, and took a few steps into the room. Harry gasped. Her floating movement, combined with her hair, eyes, and pale skin made her look a bit like a Veela. She paused, turning toward the door. She reached out a long pale hand and pulled another young woman into the Hall.
The second had darting golden eyes that tried to take in the whole room at once. Jet-black hair brushed the back of her neck as she glanced over her shoulder. The blonde took a firmer grip on her hand and began steering her toward the stage, whispering. Snape snapped the doors shut, following the girls sullenly. They reached the stage quickly. Alden smiled again, hugging both girls in turn. Dumbledore yet again began again.
"Dear students, it appears to me that I was mistaken. We shall be honored by 3 guests this year, not one. I am pleased to present Kayla and Silvia Moone. My dears, the hat..."
There was a smaller, less excited murmur at these names. Harry glanced at Ron, looking for some explanation.
"Americans," Ron muttered to Harry, "Horace Moone's kids. He was the American Minister of Magic for a few years before he disappeared. That one's Kayla. She works for the Ministry, I forget which department." He gestured up at the blonde, who was lowering the hat onto her head. As they waited, Ron added, "The other one's Silvia. She's on the radio all the time, got a beautiful voice. Mum says she sings like a lark, whatever that means. She tried to get into the Ministry a bit of a while ago, but it didn't work out."
"How come you know so much about them?"
"How come people know so much about you?"
"I'm famous."
"They're Horace Moone's kids. They are too."
"RAVENCLAW!"
Kayla smiled as Ravenclaw applauded. She gracefully took the hat off and handed it to her sister. Silvia placed the cap on her straight black hair, and it cried out almost immediately,
"RAVENCLAW!"
There was more applause as Silvia sighed with apparent relief. She slipped out of the hat and gently placed it on the stool. Her hand sought Kayla's. The older girl smiled sadly at her little sister, gripping her skinny hand tightly in her own. Silvia glanced around the room again, appearing 7 rather than 17. Alden placed a gentle hand on her back, and Silvia seemed visibly calmed. The two Moones walked to the Ravenclaw table, talking to each other in low undertones. As they sat a few girls edged toward them, and they stopped whispering. Alden said a few more words to her uncle, then walked slowly down to the Gryffindor table.
"Come-on," Harry heard Ron hiss, "Sit here, sit here..." He had moved over enough to leave half an empty seat between himself and Harry. Instead, to all of their surprise, Alden swung herself into the seat directly across from them. She smiled, her eyes darting once up and down the table before settling on Ron.
"So you're the Weasly's younger brother?"
"Wha- what?" Ron managed to stammer.
"You're Fred and George's younger brother, aren't you?"
"Well, um, yeah. How'd you know?"
"Oh, come off it. They never told you they knew me?"
"No... How did they know you?"
"I visited the school during their first year. We were all Quidditch fans, so it was a quick match. Do they still make joke shop things?"
"Yeah, yeah, they're still thinking of opening a joke shop one day."
"Say, have they ever made Canary Creams?"
"Sure, quite a hit at Hogwarts and around Hogsmeade."
Alden laughed, a clear robust sound that seemed to sweep over the friends, making them all feel a bit giggly themselves. Her eyes sparkled as she explained, "That was one of my ideas. I've got to get them to send me some."
She flashed Ron a smaller, private smile, then her eyes danced on to Hermione. "You must be Hermione Granger."
"Ye-yes!" Hermione gasped. She seemed overwhelmed by the other girl, whose bright eyes searched her stunned face briefly.
"You're the one who won the Scholastic to W University, right?"
"Yes," Hermione seemed to have found her voice now, "And I must say that it is quite, quite an honor to meet you. I have never, ever i-"
Alden held up her hand, shaking her head with a grin. "No, no, pleasure's all mine. My uncle and the teachers talk about you all the time over the summer."
She lowered her voice, leaning toward Hermione. "To tell you the truth, you all ways sounded a bit hopelessly in love with books to me. But then," she added with a wink, raising her voice back up, "Who am I to talk?"
Alden turned her gaze now at Dean, who seemed caught between being sad, admiring Alden, and trying to get a glimpse of the Moones over her shoulder. Her grin drew into a broad smile. "You're Dean Thomas."
Dean jumped at hearing his name. He had been temporarily transfixed as he gazed across the room at the Moone sisters, who were laughing quietly with their new friends. He tilted his head, looking inquisitively at Alden's secret smile.
"I knew it had to be you," she explained, still smiling. "I remember when Silvia got your first fan letter. It was so sweet. How did it start? Oh! It was 'Dear Silvia, the Grea-"
"Yeah, yeah, I remember that one!" Dean blushed furiously while Alden bit her lip, holding in her laughter.
"Silvia's always liked getting letters from you, Dean." she added with a mischievous grin. She glanced over her shoulder, then said, "You know, if you'd like to meet them..."
She stifled a chuckle. Dean glanced once more over her shoulder before catching Alden's eye. He blushed an even deepened color, hiding his face in his arms. Hermione as well seemed to be nearly choking with the desire to burst out laughing. Ron patted Dean on the back, biting his lip as well.
Harry alone remained unaffected. His bright green eyes had not left Alden's own shining ones since she had sat down. There was something about those eyes... They looked familiar, but wrong. Harry frowned again. He had gotten into the habit of frowning a lot since Hermione had once told him, in a burst of sheer intimacy, that frowning made him look "sexy". He closed his eyes for a second, trying to picture her eyes in some different context. Faces flashed through his mind, all with Alden's colorful eyes. They looked fine on Dumbledore, but then he was her uncle. They looked somewhat correct on Snape, Harry would ask about that. Then he gulped. They matched exactly the pale, snake-like eyes of Tom Riddle.
He opened his eyes and for one wild second thought that Voldemort was in front of him. He blinked, and with a sigh of relief saw that it was only Alden who sat before him. Her eyes were cutting sharply into his own. He shuddered again, realizing that in some ways he wished it had been Voldemort before him.
Her voice, softer and a tad icier, broke through his thoughts. "So you must be Harry Potter."
Despite the situation, Harry smirked. "How'd you figure that out?"
"Process of elimination."
Harry's smirk faded. The sincerity of the girl's voice had brought his ego down with a sharp thud. His eyes blazed a little angrily at her, but his fire was quickly extinguished by her icy gaze. Harry felt a twinge in his scar as Alden peered deeper into his eyes. He felt as though as cold, black hand had reached into his head and was gently groping around for something. The feeling was so chilling that he felt the need to break eye contact, but something hidden inside him wouldn't let him. 'Turn away, turn away!' he yelled at himself, struggling to avert his eyes or at least close them. Two bright lights glowed in front of him. One was green, the other purple. Then suddenly they were brown, a pale yet muddy brown, then they were yellow, then red... snake-like and red...
"Harry?"
He blinked. Everyone was looking at him. Alden said again, "Harry?"
"Huh?"
"What did you just say?"
Harry thought. He hadn't just said anything, had he? He gulped, hoping he hadn't said anything he would regret. "Er... nothing, nothing at all."
Alden's eyes narrowed slightly. "No really, what did you just say? It sounded like you were asking me a question, but I couldn't quite hear..." Her eyes grew wide and friendly again as she added playfully, "Don't worry, there isn't much you can ask that I can't tell you the answer to."
Harry cast around for a good question, but all he could think about were those eyes that were now looking at him. They seemed quite harmless now, really. A bit emboldened by the change in Alden's eyes, Harry decided to ask, "Are you related to Snape?"
"Yes."
"What?!" all the friends gasped. Alden raised an eyebrow.
"What's wrong with that?"
"Snape... well, he's Snape, but you... you're... you aren't..." Ron stammered, expressing Harry, Dean, and Hermione's own astonishment as well.
Alden's grin returned. "I get it. You hate him, but I seem nice enough." They all nodded. "Snape's my cousin by marriage. My other uncle's wife was his aunt. So I'm not directly related to him," her smile flashed larger for a moment, "Don't worry."
'God', Harry thought, 'Is there anything she isn't?'
"What happened to your eyes?" he asked aloud.
Alden was silent for a moment. The eyes in question were cast down on the table, thoughtful. They suddenly flashed with anger, but in the same second they grew sad and melancholy. Then she look up at Harry, eyes neutral once again. In a calm voice she said simply, "Curse scar."
Harry started. Then his famous ego kicked in. 'How original,' he thought, 'Parents killed by Voldemort, so-called curse scar, powerful wizard, damn good looking... she's trying to steal my life. What's she ever done that I haven't done? Okay, so she has an Order of Merlin and stuff, but I'm sure I deserve it all too.'
He searched Alden's face for some sign of jealousy or falsehood that would betray the fact that she was only parroting his life story with some embellishments. Her lovely face, however, was quiet, thoughtful and sad. In the corner of her green eye Harry thought he saw a tear, but she blinked a few times and it was gone. Harry glanced over his friends to gage their reaction. They all looked quiet as well, contemplating her words or perhaps his own. Hermione broke the silence, saying softly, "You'll have to forgive him. He hasn't read much about the Americas or modern history at all. He couldn't have known..."
Ron and Dean nodded, muttering hushed apologies. Harry quite suddenly felt another sinking feeling. Only this time, it wasn't of dread or terror: it was of pure, pure shame.
Then he realized that he couldn't have known, like Hermione said, thus he needn't feel any shame in not knowing. Plus, he remembered, he was Harry Potter. He gazed inquisitively at Alden, feigning the complete innocence to the wizarding world he had had before Hogwarts. Her eyes looked again into his, and with a sigh she began,
"Yes, it's much like your story. You wouldn't know it but sadly many are. Children who wake up to find their parents murdered, gone forever in the blink of an eye. Or worse, those forced to watch it. My father... by the time I was born my father had left. My mother had my half-brother by her first marriage to deal with, and she couldn't cope with keeping me as well. So she went to find my father, bringing me and Toby with her. I can't remember all to much of my early days, but I can still remember Toby's face. He was my half-brother, and in so many ways my guardian angel. He made sure I was fed every day, he kept me warm in the streets at night. My mother was a good woman, but she had nothing, just the two of us and her Hogwarts education. When... when she found my father's house, he was out for the day. But the servants knew my mother, they let her in to wait. Toby was so happy, all he could think about was how warm and good and happy things would be once we had a father again. His own father had been put to death on the charge of being a Death-Eater, so he couldn't wait to start again..."
She blinked hard a few times, and Harry was sure that the glisten in her eye was tears long unshed. As she continued, the only hint of her true feelings was an almost imperceptible quaver in her voice. "Then the master of the house came home. He brought with him an evil wrath, a feeling of hatred toward my mother. Toby hide with me in the other room, but at nights I can sometimes still hear her pathetic voice as she pled with him. Not for herself, but for us, her children. He spat on her, yelling, cursing her name. Then Voldemort overtook my father, destroying him, and killed my mother. He came into our room, full of unstoppable wrath. This much I remember clear as day. He raised his wand at us. Toby gently kissed my forehead, then pulled my in among his huge robes. Then... then Voldemort killed him. All I have left of him is this discolored eye as a scar where the curse just missed me as it killed him."
There was a deep silence, so deep that even chat at other tables seemed to die away. Harry stared at the table, ears ringing with the soft sad sound of Alden's voice. His breath came out in a little sigh, a sigh which seemed to echo through the still Great Hall. Dumbledore rose silently up, glancing at his niece's bowed head. He cleared his throat, an eruption of noise that made half the students start.
"Well, my students, as there are no other announcements to make, you are all free to go. Goodnight, I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow."
Students all over the Great Hall rose. As the slowly filed out of the doors, Ron frowned.
"I feel like we forgot something."
Hermione glanced over her shoulder. "Well, we've left Alden behind."
Harry, Ron, and Dean turned as well. Alden was still sitting at the table, only now she was resting her head on her hands, staring blankly at the wall. Ron took a step toward her, but Hermione gently grabbed his shoulder. "No," she said softly, "Let her be."
"Do you expect me to just leave her like that? What if she's contemplating suicide?"
"Um, I don't think she is, but look," Hermione gestured at her with her free hand. "Her friends are going to take care of her."
Indeed, the Moone sisters had come up behind Alden. Now Silvia reached out a thin, warm hand and placed it gently on Alden's back, sliding into the seat next to her. Kayla slipped into the other seat, whispering something to her friend. Ron reluctantly turned, and they all trooped back up to Gryffindor Tower. The boys said goodnight to Hermione and to a yawning Ginny who scampered up to her dormitory, blissfully unaware of the reflections of the others. As they crawled into bed, Harry called over to Ron.
"Odd, though, isn't she?"
"Hmm?"
"I mean, she just seems too perfect for her own good."
"Who, Alden?"
"Yeah, who else?"
"Dunno..."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Don't you think it's odd how perfect she is?"
"No." Ron yawned loudly, ending the conversation. Harry rolled over, turning over his thoughts in the warm privacy of his bed. There was so much he wanted to think about, but his head was spinning, and he was tired... so tired...
In the next bed over Ron yelped and sat up with a start. Dean and Harry turned to face him, eyes filled with terror. "What, what's wrong?"
"I've just remembered what we forgot at the Great Hall!"
"What?" Harry begged, desperate for a clue to chew over during the night.
"We forgot to have dinner. Cor, and I'm bloody hunge-"
Ron never finished his sentence as pillows flew at him from both of the other boys, hitting the back of his head and mouth with vicious accuracy for 10 o'clock at night.
