(Note before I start: This is NOT, repeat NOT, a meaningless put-yourself- in-Hogwarts story. I have no desire whatsoever to be Aaviela, and once the narrative gets on its way you will understand why. I hate tedious introducing-character chapters, but it must be done.)

Chapter The Fourth

"Happy?"

Lily started, realised the question had been directed at her, and nodded feverishly. The class was silent. Sirius felt numb.

"Good." Aaviela replaced her hood- the scathing blue eyes disappeared. "Get on with the lesson, Professor."

"Today, class, we will examine the effects-" Professor Tritance not only obeyed Aaviela unquestioningly and immediately, Sirius noticed, she pretended nothing whatsoever had happened. She seemed almost afraid of her. But who would be afraid of a girl? Just a girl, he added to himself contemptuously. Once her eyes, so cool and strangely intense, were hidden, he felt a surge of confidence. Barely my age. Just a girl.

The atmosphere of the classroom that lesson was as horribly taut as a violin string. The silhouette in the shadows did not move once, nor make another sound. Everyone ignored it, seeming determined to pretend that it did not exist. Professor Tritance herself kept her back to it the entire lesson. Nobody dared make a sound. The appearance of Aaviela's face had alleviated curiosity, but it had also done something else. If anything, thought Sirius, increasingly uncomfortable, his newfound confidence slipping away, it had given a name to a silent fear. It seemed almost instinct to be frightened of her. Why, then, was he not?

The lesson ended. There was an audible sigh of relief and people began to talk again, crowding around the doors with more hastiness than was usual. Sirius gathered up his books slowly, keeping his eyes carefully averted from the shape in the corner, but could feel her looking at him, looking right through him. He was the last to leave.

The corridor was empty when he stepped out of the classroom and began to walk to his next class. For some reason or other he felt free.

There was a crash.

Peeves came ripping along the corridor, cackling like a maniac and wearing, so it seemed, a much taller hat than usual. Sirius ducked as he whizzed over his head, and looked up in amazement. Peeves was careening along with a pile of library books, heavy and ancient, balanced on his hat, and laughing his head off. Every so often he would pull a book off and throw it behind him. The books bounced off the walls with mighty cracks as bindings snapped and pages burst everywhere, and a particularly lucky throw hit the helmet off a suit of armour. The suit of armour, looking as indignant as it is possible for a headless suit of armour to look, knelt down to grope around for its helmet, only to be knocked flat by the fat librarian, Mr Pringlesnap. He collided directly with the helmet, and it stuck on his head.

"PEEVES!"

Sirius buried his head in his arms to protect himself from a fresh explosion of paper. There was a wild scream of laughter and another crash, further away.

Then there was silence.

His face still covered by his hands, Sirius looked between the cracks of his elbows. He breathed in sharply.

Peeves had stopped directly in front of the classroom. A fully cloaked Aaviela was standing the doorway, ever so quietly watching him, hands folded. Sirius shivered. A funny chill went down his spine.

The books dropped loudly to the floor. The bangs as they hit the flagstones echoed. Peeves was no longer bobbing, as he usually did when stationary. He was as still as if he had been hung from that very spot, and his face was twisted with a fear so intense it contained physical pain.

One of Aaviela's hands emerged from the cloak. It was raised, flat, towards Peeves, as though she were about to give him a high-five. For an instant- Sirius blinked several times- it looked as though it glowed a bright shade of purple. Peeves gave a high-pitched shriek, like an animal being tortured, and shot off down the corridor and out of sight.

The hand remained raised for a few seconds before it once more immersed itself in the folds of the cloak. For the first time Sirius noticed that a long tattoo snaked around her wrist. It looked like a stream of Celtic runes, but he was too far away to be sure.

With a silent movement the cloaked head turned towards him.

He clutched his books to his chest, stumbled onto his feet and ran. The thought of those eyes, blue and green and cold as death, pursued him all the way to Divination.

*~*~*

"She did WHAT?"

"You heard me." Sirius was suddenly very tired. This wasn't the way life was supposed to be working out. He was at school to have fun! He sat down on the bed heavily, feeling drained.

"And Peeves just hung there?" Peter whispered, looking as though he was going to split out of his skin with terror.

"Yes. Like he was Petrified," said Sirius wearily. He had recounted the story twice, once for James, once for Peter. James shifted uneasily.

"Who is this Aaviela chick anyway?" he said, with fake breeziness. James hated to be frightened of anything. The 'chick' jarred nastily against the name.

"That's not the right question."

"What is, then?"

"The right question is- what is she?"

James and Peter looked at Sirius and then at each other. He could smell their fear. "What do you mean, what is she?" quavered Peter, trying to sound brave.

"We know what she isn't," offered James, nonchalant, but with a strange note in his voice. "She isn't a student, or a teacher. She isn't normal."

"James, my friend, that is an excellent summary of the situation." Sirius did his best to restrain his sarcasm to the point, enjoying, in his strange weary annoyance, seeing James squirm. "There is one fault. You left out something crucial."

"What's that?" Sirius saw a flicker of apprehension behind James's eyes. His capacity for venom was lethal, and legendary.

"She isn't human, either."