This is the second chapter of the upload.

Disclaimer: Don't own. Will own The Guiding.

Quote of the Chapter: "…somehow, I feel like we've met before…" --Sakura

Jaded Angels and Silken Blossoms

Chapter 6: Eriol Hiiragizawa

***

            After eating breakfast, at a leisure unknown to most people, I took a walk through the castle. I wanted to get a good handle on the castle, and hoped that I wouldn't get lost in the process.

            Walking down a random corridor, I looked out the window. The sun was high in the sky, at this hour of eight o'clock, and very beautiful at that. In my unawareness, I hadn't watched where I was going, and, like the dumb blonde I was, ran into something. (AN-Mom says I'm a dumb blonde in disguise.)

            Or should I say, someone.

            "I'm sorry, I didn't see you!" said the boy. He climbed to his feet and reached down to help me up.

            "No, no, it was my fault, I wasn't…" I looked up and found myself looking into a pair of blue orbs that I won't ever forget. "…watching where I was going. I'm sorry, have we met?"

            "No, probably not," he said, smiling. "This is my first time to England. You must be Angel. I'm Professor Hiiragizawa. Here." He offered his hand. I took it and stood up, then knelt back down to pick up my things.

            "This is my first time here, too," I said. "Have you ever been to America?"

            "No," he smiled, picking up my books. "Maybe we do know each other."

            "Huh?"
            "Before we were born," he said, smiling. "Magic people are usually quite keen on remembering people through rebirths."     

            "Maybe…" I murmured. "I was looking around, and I think I got turned around somewhere."

            "The corridors in this school are quite confusing, I agree," he smiled. "That's why I wake up early each morning to find my way around. It seems you had the same idea."

            "Yeah," I smiled. "You wouldn't happen to know what time it is, would you?"

            "Yes, it is half past eight," he said. "What's your first class? I'll show you the way."

            "Herbology," I said.

            "Ah, the short lady," Hiiragizawa laughed.

            "I think so," I said. "I'm still trying to sort my head out after last night. How you can stand to be in front of a class soon, I don't know, Professor Hiiragizawa."
            "Please, formality provides barriers," he said. "Call me Eriol."

            "E-Eriol?" I stammered. That was the same name as the guy in my dream! The reincarnation of Clow Reed! But how…can he be here, twenty years old, and there, ten?

            "Yes," he nodded. "Walk with me."

            It was strange, how he said that. He didn't say "follow me", as a teacher would normally say to a student. He said, "walk with me", like a friend. I guess that's what he wanted, really. A friend.

            It took fifteen minutes to find the door outside, where the other students were all gathering. Along in that time, Eriol and I talked about a lot of things. He reminded me of the Eriol in my dream (only older) but at the same time, the ease in speaking with him reminded me of Syaoran. I wondered if there was any correlation.

            "Well, I must be going," Eriol said. "I've a meeting with Professor Dumbledore at nine thirty, and I've no idea where his office is. I'll try asking Hagrid, he might know."

            "Good idea," I said. "Professor Dumbledore is a nice person, I don't think he'd mind you being a little late if you can't find his office."

            "Thank you," Eriol smiled and left.

            I sat down on the front step. I pulled out my bag, in which were a few sheets of normal white paper and some mechanical pencils, which I planned to use to sketch pictures of my teachers, fellow students, and the classrooms. David was going to be well versed in the people of Hogwarts well before he came there. And he would come there.

            Also early to the class was Hermione Granger, who took a seat next to me. Of course she would sit there too, it was the nearest to Professor Sprout.

            "Good morning," I greeted her.

            "Morning. Sleep well?"

            "Yes," I said, smiling. "The beds are quite comfortable here, aren't they?"

            "I agree," she said. "What's that you're drawing there?"

            "Professor Sprout," I answered. "I'm sending it to my baby brother when I'm done. He's coming over in two years as well, so I want to introduce him to people before he comes."

            "That's nice," she said. "I wish I could draw. Then I'd do the same thing for my parents. They're Muggle, you see."
            "Oh," I said. "So are my parents. Well, my Mom is, but my Dad's a Squib. Hey, I know. I saw a spell for copies in the index. Maybe I can just copy my drawings and you can have one of each one I do."

            "Really? You'd do that for me?" Hermione smiled. "Thanks!"

            "No problem," I grinned. "So, you want to be a good student here, too?"

            "Yeah," she smiled. "I read through all the books already. I love to read, I want to learn all I can about this world."

            "Me, too!" I smiled. "I'm a writer, too. My English isn't so good, but I think my stories are pretty imaginative. And that was before we came here." We laughed together. A polite disposition and a few of the same hobbies always are great ways to make friends.

            "I would love to read some," Hermione said. "I'm more of a poet than a storywriter, though."

            "Really? I'd love to read yours!" I smiled. "I love poetry, but I can't really rhyme very well." (AN-She didn't write the above song. David did.)

            By this time, the steps were filled with students. There were a total of seventeen students. There were the nine from Griffindor and eight from Hufflepuff. Did Professor Dumbledore want me to choose people from my own class? If so, this wasn't going to help much.

            "Everyone's here, then?" asked Professor Sprout. "Off we go! Greenhouse 1, I'd say. In this class, we'll be learning about all the wonderful plants and fungi that we witches and wizards use in our potions, and other such things."

            The class went on, but I found it difficult to follow. I was never good with plants, my thumb is quite brown. I also had difficulty taking notes, because we obviously weren't sitting in desks. We weren't even sitting, actually. Every time Professor Sprout asked a question, Hermione and I raced to answer it. Just because I had a brown thumb didn't mean I couldn't answer questions about these weird plants.

            The class lasted about an hour and twenty minutes, and then we were released to go directly to our next class, History of Magic. Hermione and I chattered the entire way, talking about all sorts of different things we'd learned through books. One of our favorite topics turned out to be the book I'd bought for myself: Hogwarts, A History. She had also bought a copy.

            "Wow, we've got so much in common, it's uncanny!" Hermione said, smiling.

            "You're better with the plants than I am," I said, smiling. "You repotted that dillyweed much better than I did."

            "It's nothing, you're just putting some dirt over it," Hermione sniffed. "Anyway, you're good at recalling information, too. I'd have to have studied a lot longer than you did."

            "You'd be surprised," I laughed. "You're definitely going to be better in History of Magic. I hate history. I really do. But I guess, since it's new, and I'm not learning about Columbus discovering America and World War II and stuff, I'll be able to hang on for the ride."

            "Ride?" Lavender laughed beside me. "Believe me, most of us will be asleep in this class. Binns is the worst sort of teacher."

            "I'll believe that when I see it," I said.

            When I walked into the classroom and saw that Binns wasn't even there yet, I started feeling the truth in Lavender's words. But I was determined to accept Binns' way of teaching. After all, I had to try to get top marks in this class. At least we got to sit down for this one.

            When a ghost suddenly came through the wall and "stood" at the podium, though, that's when it sunk in. Then he started speaking.

            "Morning, class," he said in a slow, drawling voice. "In the 1800s, the goblins started many rebellions. Among the most famous of them was Uric the Oddball."

            I started scrambling down the notes in my neat handwriting, keeping pace with every name and date the old ghost rambled off. If this was how he held class every day, I was going to have to study a lot harder in this class.

            "We'll have to work hard on this class," Hermione whispered, even as her hand flew across the page. Her notes were as organized as mine, but by the end of the class, my handwriting had turned into scrawl, while hers remained neat.

            "I don't see how you can retain your handwriting," I said, holding up my limp hand as I packed up my notes (only one piece of parchment—which happened to be about two feet long), quill, inkwell, and book. It turned out we (duh) didn't need our wands, or even our books, really. He covered what I'd read in the book, but he also made remarks on other things.

            "Your homework tonight is a foot essay on Uric the Oddball and his effect on the rebellions," said Binns. The class groaned, but he was already gone and did not hear any complaints.

            I took out a clean sheet of parchment and wrote Homework in large script at the top. Then I made a bullet and wrote 1 foot essay. Uric the Oddball. Effect on the Rebellion. Finally, I made a line beside it.

            "That's smart," said Hermione.

            "Yeah," I smiled. "I used to get a lot of homework back home, in Muggle school. I'm used to it. The quills and parchment are new on me, though."

            "Me, too," Hermione said. "I never thought that I would one day be learning how to repair glasses with a flick of a piece of special wood." We laughed.

            "I know," I said. "I never knew that my Uncle was a wizard, even though he came and visited us when I was two years old. Then suddenly he shows up mid-July, and I'm here."

            "I still can't believe your cousin is Malfoy," said Hermione. "Or that he did that to you. It just goes to show that you can't judge a book by its cover."

            "Or a person, for that matter," I said. "I really didn't think that you would be my friend. I thought you were going to be my rival for a long time there."
            "Me, too, actually," said Hermione. "But I think we match up well."

            "Me, too."

            We laughed and headed up to the Griffindor Tower to get our things.

***

            After a light lunch of turkey sandwiches, a salad, and an apple, we decided to take a small exploratory walk around. We had forty-five minutes before the next class, and neither of us wanted to start on our homework yet.

            "Let's find the library," Hermione said. "I've heard they have the best library in the country right here at Hogwarts." As soon as we left the Great Hall, I ran right into the same black robes as before.

            "Angel, are you all right?" Eriol asked. Hermione knelt down and helped me pick up my notes and such. "I'm sorry, we just keep running into each other, don't we?"

            "Yeah, I'm sorry, Eriol," I smiled. "Oh, this is my friend, Hermione Granger."

            "Ah, another of my Eastern Magic students," he said, smiling.

            "You're taking Eastern Magic, too?" I asked.

            "Yes, I am," Hermione said. "Professor Hiiragizawa—"

            "Eriol, please," he said.

            "Eriol, then," Hermione blushed. "Could you direct us to the library?"
            "I was headed there myself, actually," he said, grabbing a sandwich from one of the platters. "Just wanted a bite to eat on the way. Walk with me, won't you? We'll find our way together."

            "You don't know the way, either?" I asked.

            "No, no, I don't," Eriol smiled again. "You see, I arrived the same night the students did. I'm as clueless as you two are. I barely found my classroom."

            The three of us laughed.

            "Well, off we go, then," Hermione said. "We're blocking the Great Hall."

            "Indeed we are," Eriol smiled.

            We found the library all right, and Hermione and I checked out a book each. I checked out a book on easier plant care, one that Madam Pince suggested for my "brown thumbed disease". Hermione had one about historical figures. She said she'd tell me if she found anything interesting, and I vice-versa.

            Hermione and I made our way to the Charms classroom, where the other Griffindors were slowly gathering. Professor Flitwick was tiny, and stood on a stack of books to be seen at all. He took roll. He paused at my name, and smiled at me quickly.

            "A historical figure, in my class. Welcome to England, milady."

            He continued, but his eyes went wide and he fell over the chair when he reached Harry's name. Poor kid, he'd been stared at almost all day long.

            The bell rang at last for the end of the day, and we filed out of Professor Flitwick's classroom. We had started learning how to hold our wands, something Hermione and I had learned long, long ago.

            Hermione and I went back to the Griffindor Common Room and sat down in two fluffy armchairs before a coffee table. We set out our homework, which included the foot essay from Binns and a detailed description of proper wand handling from Flitwick.

            "So, do you have any brothers?" I asked as I started writing about Uric the Oddball.

            "Nope, I'm an only child," Hermione answered. "My parents are both dentists."

            "It shows," I smiled. Her teeth were pearly white, but the two front teeth were rather large. "My Dad's ex-Navy, he used to work on airplanes. Now he's a loan officer for the Bank of America."

            "Cool," Hermione said. "What's it like, to have a little brother?"

            "Well, sometimes it's difficult, because he always wants attention," I said. "But then again, he's the sweetest little kid I've ever met. He loves to play role-playing games. He's dyslexic, so he doesn't share my reading and writing love, but he's trying. I should be getting a letter from him soon."

            "Oh, poor kid!" Hermione said. "I would hate it if I had trouble reading."

            "Me, too," I said. "But he deals with it." I finished up writing everything I could remember about Uric the Oddball. I pulled out a ruler and measured it. "Think Binns will mind if it's two inches longer?"
            "I don't think so," Hermione shook her head. "It shows that you paid attention, even through his long and droning speech." She finished hers, too, and found that it was about a half a centimeter longer. Of course, her handwriting was a little more spaced than mine was.

            "Well, that's done," I said. "I can't believe how many kids didn't read their books, or at least the first chapter of them, before school started. I mean, they had the time, you know?"

            "I agree," Hermione nodded.

            "I mean, Hogwarts is kind of like the Harvard of magic school right? Or Oxford, in your case," I said. "And in both those schools, you're expected to have read the first hundred pages, at least, of your term books. Most people know that."

            "Yeah," Hermione nodded. We both got out another sheet of parchment and finished the essay for Flitwick, too.

            "Since we've got some time, mind if I draw you?" I asked. "We can send it back with Sakura when she gets here. I think she'll probably get here in the morning. She can make the flight in two days."

            "Okay," Hermione nodded.

***

            "Eriol Hiiragizawa?!" Syaoran shouted. "You're joking!"

            "No, I'm not," I said. "That's his name. He insisted on being called Eriol, and he says he thinks that we may have known each other before we were born. He's a bit strange."

            "That's exactly what Eriol said to Sakura when they first met," Syaoran said, his eyes going wild. "This is insane! He's in Tomoeda right now, he can't possibly be in two places at once!"

            "Is that possible?" I asked. "I mean, he does claim to be the strongest magician in the world…"

            "No, even in the magic world, it's basically impossible," said Syaoran. "You can't be in two places at once. Impossible."

            "Well, maybe it's all coincidence," I said. "I mean, the name thing. Maybe they just know each other, or maybe they're brothers. It could be a million different things. They don't feel the same, you know."

            "Feel the same?"

            "The one in the dream, he doesn't feel the same as the one outside. There's a difference, it's slight, but there is."

            "Hmm…"

            "Let's swim," I said.

***

Actually, Eriol isn't his real name. You'll find out who he really is later. ^_^. I love to swim and exercise, but I'm fat. Yes, Angel is very, very, very much like myself. No, I don't have Solid Dreams, but I do get a precognitive dream (yes, real ones) every once in a while. I just honed the skill.