[Disclaimer: JKR is a goddess, and I bow down to her superior talent (even if I dislike Harry)]
Don't you just hate Writer's Block? I'll try and make this chapter much longer than the last one.
Oh, and as you may have noticed, I finally have a title. As I mentioned last chapter, ten galleons to whoever can work out why it's called what it's called.
Note: new story on the way. A Grandparents Generation fic. The name of Morganna's mother has changed from Delilah to Cassandra, and Aunt Margolotta Winterburn is Mrs Montaque's sister, not Mr Montaque's. (So it's yet another prequel. What is it with me and this stupid series?)
Helena Everly, a new character introduced in this chapter, is partially based on Gwendolyn from the DarkSword trilogy by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman. More her gift than personality or looks (Gwendolyn was blonde, while Helena's hair is jet-black).
On A Crooked Path
Chapter Five:
by Adele Elisabeth
Morag stood with the other students while they waited for Hagrid to bring out the latest creature.
She had, as had they all, been expecting some monstrous creation.
What graced their vision was beautiful. Dark, enigmatic -- and beautiful.
They were looking at a black pegasus.
"Aint she a beauty?" Hagrid patted the creature's neck fondly. "Name's Eve, and she's far too aristocratic to be a pet or a beast of burden." At this, Eve gave the impression of strutting without actually moving. Morag wondered if Draco was taking ntoes. "Of course, she might give you rides...if you're polite and gentle, and bribe 'er with sugar."
Most of the class groaned. Why would they have thought to bring sugar cubes to class?
"I've taken the liberty of buying a supply of sugar cubes." Hagrid added. "Take a paper packet each, and give her no more than one or two at a time."
As the class surged forward, Hagrid added "Pay attention to her, there'll be assignments after this."
Hermione, Morag noted, looked pleased. Trust her to like the prospect of research.
"Ah, Ms Everly." Dumbledore smiled at the nervous young French girl in the seat before him. "Lemon drop?"
"No thank you, 'Eadmaster." She replied respectfully.
Anyone who wasn't aware of Thamala Blake's whereabouts -- and even those who were -- might have thought for a moment she was back. Ms Everly was identical to the now-infamous Ms Blake, down to the black eyes and ruby lips. Well, her hair was straight, but that was thanks to a charm, and not nature.
However, they could relax, for all would be revealed.
"A Necromancer at Hogwarts, well, we haven't had one of them for some time. Yours is a rare breed, Ms Everly." Dumbledore watched her carefully, but she seemed unlikely to do anything other than nod politely.
"I understand you only recently learned of your gift?"
"I only recently discovered zat it was a gift." She corrected. "I never understood why nobody could see my friends, and I'm certain my papa zought me mad."
Thought. Past tense. Ms Everly's eyes welled up with tears.
"I was sorry to hear about Mr Everly's murder." Dumbledore patted her hand comfortingly. "He was a good man."
"Yes. 'E was." Changing the subject abruptly, she continued, "I understand my twin attended zis school for a year."
"Ms Blake? Yes, she did."
"It was 'er maman--" Ms Everly could not bring herself to refer to that monster as her mother, "--zat killed my papa. It was, I understand, an accident. I was ze intended victim. Thamala was to replace me. Papa and I were apart so often, it might 'ave worked if zings 'adn't gone wrong for zem. Grandmama transferred me 'ere to 'Ogwarts immediately when she found out. Zought zis place would be safer. You are quite well-known and well-liked, 'Eadmaster."
"Well, we shall have to get you sorted and then you can see how you like Hogwarts." Dumbledore smiled at her.
Helena Capricia Everly gave him a tentative half-smile, which was gone almost as quickly as it came.
That, he supposed, he would have to make do with.
"I heard there's another transfer from France."
"I heard it was that Blake girl back again."
"Again? No way. Dumbledore's mad as a hatter, but he's not stupid."
"Think--"
Whatever that person had been about to say, they didn't get a chance to finish as a hush fell. Helena was standing nervously in the doorway. After a few moments, she regained her composure and strode with a confidence she didn't feel to the Ravenclaw table.
Animated whispers broke out.
Morag stared, incredulous, at the ebony-tressed girl's back.
"I thought Blake was put away!" she hissed to Draco, who looked as lost as she did.
"So did I." He replied grimly. "Guess we were wrong."
The Ravenclaws, in the meantime, had shifted along either side until Helena was isolated at the table, head down.
Dumbledore stood up. "We have a new arrival, students. This is Ms Helena Everly, and she has come to us from France. I'm sure you will all make her feel welcome." At the silence that followed this, Dumbledore sighed, realising he was going to have to reassure them about her identity before any of them would believe him. "She is not, despite rumors, Ms Blake. The similarity is merely remarkable." He felt it wouldn't be a good idea to broadcast the kinship between the two girls.
Reluctantly, the Ravenclaws closed the gap.
Morag was watching her with new interest. This girl may have closely resembled one of the people she hated most, but that was what fueled her curiosity. There was something going on here, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.
DADA with the Ravenclaws. Perfect opportunity.
Morag seated herself next to Helena, as nobody else had, or looked like they were likely to.
"Hi. I'm--"
"Morag Snape." Helena finished for her. "I'm Helena Everly. So nice to meet you." Her tone suggested she didn't really give a damn at all, and that nothing was likely to change this.
"What are you, a seeress?" Morag raised an eyebrow.
"I wish." Helena muttered. Visions would be easier than chatty dead people. "No, I'm not." She didn't elaborate.
"Then how did you know who I am?" Morag persisted. Their teacher -- Sirius Black's name had been cleared earlier that year and he had been brought in to teach with little coaxing required -- hadn't shown up yet.
"Doesn't everybody?" Helena countered. "You're quite ze celebrity, Mademoiselle Snape."
Morag frowned, and didn't pester her further, waiting for the teacher.
Helena regarded her reflection that evening. After classes, she'd gone straight to the en suite of the girls' dormitory and claimed the bathroom. Now she stood in front of her full-length mirror, wrapped in a black silk dressing gown with her damp hair streaming down her back.
"Ze resemblence...!" She muttered bitterly. "Identical, you mean, 'Eadmaster."
Behind her, there was a polite cough.
Startled into fright, she whirled, and found herself face to face with a handsome young man, tall, dark haired -- and somewhat translucent.
"'Oo," she asked when she'd regained her composure, "Are you?"
"William Davis, at your service." He bowed extravagantly. "Seventh year Slytherin, class of 1970."
"Zat was 30 years ago." She said flatly. "Give or take."
"How time flies. Surely you know, time means nothing to the dead." Lifting her hand, he brushed his lips across her knuckles. "You, I understand, are the Necromancer."
"Correct." By this time, she had calmed sufficiently. She took note of the cold feeling of his hand and lips, and noted also that he was a polterguist, though not the usual sort of polterguist.
"Do you know how to make me be seen? The polterguist, Peeves, he taught me how to lift objects, but I can't seem to work out how to make people see me."
"Ozzer ghosts can. See you, zat is. I don't know what makes ze few spirits zat can be seen different, unfortunately."
He deflated somewhat. "Ah, well."
But in Helena's mind, a plan was forming...
"You said you can lift zings? 'Ow strong are you?"
Seated in the library, Morag was unsurprised to see Ravenclaw's newest addition enter. What did surprise her was what happened next.
"Do you know where I'd find ze books on--" Helena began, but it seemed something cut her off.
Helena, when I was a student here, I wouldn't have been caught dead in the library. It just wasn't the done thing.
"Zat's absurd, and certainly doesn't 'elp us at all."
I suppose I remember a few things from the lessons we had in the library. I think they were mostly practising our research skills, anyway.
"Zat's a start."
Morag, of course, could not hear William's side of the conversation. At first she thought the girl was mad, but then something happened that changed her mind.
A book floated towards Helena. The title read 'A Necromancer's Guide To The Spirits'.
Will this one do?
"It's perfect."
After issuing the book, Helena and her unseen companion took their leave.
And Morag was left to wonder what in the hell she had just witnessed. She was sure it was something - she just didn't know exactly what that something was.
***
I'm on a roll...no more Writer's Block for me! (For a while, anyway)
Morag: [rolls her eyes] You are so lame.
Me: Don't disrespect your creator.
Morag: So now I have to worship you? What planet are you from?
Me: [sighs theatrically] Do you people see what I have to put up with? She could at least be grateful I changed my mind about sending her out of England, but no, she has to ignore my kindness...
Morag: [rolls her eyes again] You are so pathetic. Look, people, everybody knows I'm the brains behind these stories, so I want some reviews for all my hardwork.
Me: [splutters] Hard work? You? You wouldn't know hard work if you were beat in the backside with it!!!
Morag: Hey! I summoned the Keeper thingie! That was hard!
Me: [grudgingly] Okay...
Morag: See? Anyway, review peoples!
[They exit, bickering]