Chapter 2: Hogwarts
Kentarre once again breached the distance between the busy streets and the castle, finally reaching it just as the moon was rising over the horizon. Nemesis let out an occasional chirp for every sharp jolt, but other than that was silent as the evening mist that settled around the castle and hovered above the lake. This time, Kentarre was let in the front door by a woman in green print robes and dangling floral earrings. The woman admitted her when told of her purpose, and Kentarre had no trouble finding the gargoyle, just as ugly as ever, that led to the headmaster's chamber.
Now, outside the door, Kentarre had her first second thoughts about telling Dumbledore the truth at all. *What he doesn't know won't hurt him,* she thought, *and it would help to make my solitude a little more complete.* However, in the end, she let her hand continue its journey to descend upon the door and knock sharply. "Enter," came the familiar voice.
Kentarre did so, and closed the door with a foreboding click. "Headmaster," she began, "it has come to my attention that there are certain truths that remain untold." The headmaster replied cryptically, "Ah, yes, that is often the case about truths. I suspect that you wish to reveal them?" Kentarre gave him a skeptical look. "That depends on your ability to conceal them," she said bluntly.
The old man's eyes twinkled. "I give you my word, whatever you have to tell will not leave this office. Except, of course, when it chances to enter my own thoughts." Kentarre frowned, but continued.
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Approximately thirty minutes later, Kentarre left Dumbledore's office with strict instructions to go and get herself a wand, but to be extremely discreet about it. Dumbledore had already sent an owl to the owner of the store telling him exactly when Kentarre would stop by. She was to go in, get her wand, and get out, and no one would be left the wiser.
The stone steps leading out of the castle looked very inviting; Kentarre had spent a rather embarrassing half hour with the headmaster and was glad to get away from it. However, she felt a strange sense of duty that she had rarely felt before, as though she had done the right thing by telling him about herself.
*Ha,* thought she, *I've never been very good at doing the right thing, and I've certainly never felt myself doing it before. Why should now be any different?* But as she looked back over her shoulder at the shadowed castle, she knew that it was different. Too different. This kind of different could change everything. And change, this kind of change, was not on her list of desirable personal traits.
Kentarre clicked her boots irritably on the cobblestones as she searched for the shop selling wands.
She found the shop and entered without hesitation. Inside seemed completely unaffected by the cooling air outside; the shop was stuffy and warm, and dust seemed to settle everywhere. Lining the walls were boxes upon slender boxes, rows upon rows, stretching all the way to the back of the store and around a corner. It was from around this corner that an old man whose demeanor emitted no age at all appeared; his grey eyes squinted at Kentarre for a few minutes before the man reached up and placed a pair of glasses in front of them. "You must be Kentarre Hisakata," he inferred. She said, "And you, Mr. Ollivander." At this, he smiled, revealing white, straight teeth that glistened at her even in the dimly lit store. "Well, since we have no need for introdutions, shall we get on and find you a wand?" Without waiting for an answer, he bustled away and came back carrying a small chair. Upon this he stood, lifting down a few boxes from the tops of a few stacks. "Which is your wand hand?" he asked crisply. Kentarre indicated her left, which was not holding Nemesis. The first wand he handed to Kentarre and told her to "give it a wave." As she did so, the wand felt warm and released several sparks from the tip. Mr. Ollivander's eyes widened in surprise, and Nemesis rustled uneasily in his cage. Kentarre looked nonplussed. "In all my years of selling wands, only once have I ever encountered someone who matched the first wand they waved. Here, try another one to be on the safe side," said the salesman nervously, as though this news was not good news at all.
The next wand produced the same result. And the next, and the next, and the next. Mr. Ollivander finally and incredulously fell into the chair, his brow furrowed deeply and his eyes confused and clouded. "What could make this happen?" he wanted to know. Kentarre looked away, her eyes dark and withdrawn as though they were hidden behind curtains. Mr. Ollivander gazed up at her, and she felt his eyes as though they were putting physical pressure on her, though she kept her lips sealed. The man picked up the first wand she had tried. "Which would you rather? I've never given someone a choice of wand before, but I suppose that's the only way to decide which one you will take, as they all react to you." Kentarre gestured to the one he held. "That one will do just fine," she said. He nodded and began to wrap it up in its box, afterward making futile attempts to find the others' coordinating boxes. Kentarre purchased her wand, her eyes showing her distaste, and left the shop and the strange shopkeeper.
Dumbledore had given her other instructions, also. When she arrived back at the Leaky Cauldron beyond Diagon Alley, she was to occupy a room that Dumbledore had secured for her until the school year began on September first. These orders were to be followed immediately after she purchased her wand, but Kentarre wasn't finished yet. There was another road leading off of Diagon Alley, yet this was not part of the brightly lit shopping center. A decrepit sign hung above the entrance to this dim, gloomy side street that said "Knockturn Alley." Kentarre, across the pavement from this entrance, looked at it darkly and strode directly under it and into the foreboding dark.
Inside, a little light came from above, however limited by the towering skyline. The shops themselves portrayed little more light from inside; most of them had no light at all. Many of the shopkeepers sold their wares outside, and strange objects they sold indeed. There were several displays of what looked like body parts, and several of putrid, smoking potions. One shop in particular caught Kentarre's eye; it was quite large, and it advertised spellbooks. Kentarre stood in front of this window until she heard someone speaking right behind her. The voice had an oily, droning quality, and by the tone, it belonged to a young boy. "Father, you said you'd get me something in Joldar's. And here it is!"
A man's voice replied irritably, "All right, Draco, but be quick."
The couple who spoke walked into the store Kentarre stood before, and she eyed the younger with great scrutiny. He was blonde, and was wearing a rather snooty expression on his face as he strolled businesslike through the door, as if he was at home. Curious, Kentarre entered at their heels, thinking she'd do a bit of spying, because she had naught else to do. Once inside, she parted company with the father and son, and began to roam the store, just to seem casual. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls and littered the floor, and myriad books filled these. However, the shop sold things other than books, and it was to these things that the boy called Draco was attracted. Kentarre began to browse, careful to keep the boy and his father within earshot. Draco talked for a while about which item he would select from the foul-smelling pile, but eventually his one-man conversation turned to other subjects, and it was in these other topics that Kentarre was interested.
"And you know, Father, they're allowing far too many Mudbloods into the school this year. It's contaminating the rest of us, really. Why couldn't you send me to Durmstrang like all the rest of the respectable purebloods?"
"I've told you several times, Draco, your mother won't allow it. She doesn't want you to have to go so far away."
"Well, I don't see what's so wrong with it, and I think it's worth it. It's bound to be a whole lot better than half-breed Hogwarts."
"You are not the authoritator on that point, however, so might we just get what we came for and leave?"
A brief silence. Then Draco picked up a bundle of trick bookmarks that stained the pages they were holding, purchased it, and left the store on his father's left flank.
Kentarre then emerged from the shadows. She had noticed that the boy had been carrying bags not unlike her own; he had apparently shopped at the same places Kentarre had, and, she noted, bought most of the same items, such as potion ingredients and spellbooks. Nemesis, who had not left her side, had remained sagely silent while they were there, but now glared after the two shoppers with obvious distaste. "I agree," she murmured to the falcon, "I don't like them at all. There's something funny about the boy..."
Abruptly, Kentarre left the store behind, and with it Knockturn Alley. The archway leading out of Diagon Alley was just up ahead, and it was in this direction that she headed. On the way, she heard many snitches of conversation, all of it meaningless, unless you count a little boy shouting to his mother from across the street about a new racing broom.
She soon made arrangements in the Leaky Cauldron for her stay there. The bartender, Tom, led her up to her room and told her the policy on meals and room service. She thanked him, and he smiled and exited, leaving her and her belongings. A window was situated at the left corner of the room, and through this she could see Diagon Alley, now with only a few late shoppers left. The moon had risen a quarter in the sky, and the Hogwarts castle, seen from a distance, had many twinkling lights adorning its silhouette, as did most of the shops below.
Kentarre, not bothering to unpack her things, set Nemesis down on her nightstand, and, on a whim, opened his cage on the condition that he wouldn't cause a ruckus. Nemesis, glad for a reprieve from the tight cage, glided noiselessly around the room for a spell, and then settled on the bedstead, preening and fluffing his brown speckled feathers. Kentarre made a deal with him; if he would be back before she went to bed, she would let him out. If not, he wouldn't be let out again for another two nights. At this proposition, he cocked his head at her, considering. Having come to a conclusion, he pecked her gently on the hand, and, rising, she let him out the window and watched him soar out into the night air, high above the deteriorating business being held below in the streetshops.
*Ah, nighttime,* she thought, *the most glorious time. A time of peace and silence.* Kentarre stood, extinguished the conventional lamp, and ignited one of her own: her glowing palm threw shimmering shadows on the walls and floor. A symbol began to form on the front and back of her palm, a symbol that could only be seen under these circumstances: three circles, one inside the other. Well she knew it; many times had she seen it. This little symbol, etched in glowing crimson, had become her life, her very soul and essence, from the moment she learned of its meaning.
Kentarre stared at it, as always, with a glint of respect in her eyes, yes, respect and, oddly, friendship. At first, she had hated the sign, hated what it stood for, hated the reason it was there. Now, a sort of kinship had come, and, yes, a submission to its existence, and a gratefulness for its help.
Suddenly, there came a slight tapping on her window panes; Nemesis had returned, feathers ruffled and askew from his exhilerating flight. Smiling, she admitted him and reassured him that the deal was still on; Nemesis later received a bit from her dinner that she had saved for him if he was good. This he devoured and then chirped for more, which she gave him with a grin. Now, perched on her shoulder, he nudged her hair playfully and then cooed his goodnights. He spent the rest of the night with his head under his wing.
As for Kentarre, she adjusted the position of her bed to where her head would be just under the window. Lying there, she found it quite comfortable, as the moon's pale light illuminated her face and hair, making the latter seem even more silvery than usual. It was then that she slept, a peaceful, gratifying slumber.
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During the next few days, Kentarre acquired for herself a number of other items, such as a cloak and a lunascope. Nemesis generally went with her wherever she went, and gradually she began to wean him off of being in his cage all the time. For a short amount of time she would let him out on the condition that he either stay very close or sit on her shoulder. He seemed to like the latter better, and though he attracted quite a bit of attention, Kentarre was completely content to let him stay there. Eventually he came to the point where the cage, for the most part, stayed in her room, open and vacant, while Nemesis roamed about with her on her excursions.
More and more frequently, she began to notice people of roughly her own age shopping in Diagon Alley. September first was drawing nearer and nearer, and she supposed that most of them were Hogwarts students. A few of them seemed to know each other, for she could see them traveling about in groups of three or four, oftentimes leaving their parents to deal with the packages. And still more of them gave Kentarre curious stares as she passed them, to say nothing of the gapes they sent Nemesis. If he noticed this, however, he merely turned his head in aloofness, as though setting himself apart from their prying eyes.
It was thus that she patrolled the streets, paying no particular attention to anyone, but all the same keeping her eye out for the blond kid she'd seen in Knockturn Alley. Eventually, she drew fewer and fewer stares, and as September first drew ever closer, more people could be seen leaving Diagon Alley with pets and packages of their own. Kentarre, after receiving a screech owl from Dumbledore, was fully prepared to leave her apartment when September first dawned cold and clear.
On the said morning, Kentarre thanked the bald bartender downstairs and made her way out onto the street, this time carrying Nemesis in his cage, much to his dismay. The rest of her belongings were stowed away in her small, drawstring bag, which was slung across her shoulder. King's Cross Station itself was easy to find at eleven o'clock in the morning, and, after watching a few others do it, she figured out how to get onto the designated platform. Once there, Kentarre found herself in a brightly lit, bustling world, and in the center of this was the red and shining Hogwarts Express, already being boarded. Kentarre hadn't found a need for a cart, as she was carrying so few things, so she also hadn't much trouble getting her luggage onto the train. A boy in front of her was muttering to his friend beside him about his new racing broom, a Nimbus 2001, he said. Kentarre wasn't particularly interested in the conversation because they seemed to be taking an awfully long time to board the train. Looking ahead to see what was the holdup, Kentarre spotted the boy at the front of the line, who was struggling with his suitcase. Sighing in exasperation, she walked up to him and said curtly, "Need some help?" When he nodded, she told him, "Stand back." When he did, she reached under the protruding front end and pointed two fingers at the bottom. The case, under her guidance, lifted and floated into the car. The boy stared. "Thanks," he breathed. "How'd you do that without a wand?" Kentarre then realized her mistake, and produced her wand from behind her back. Seeming satisfied, he boarded the train behind his luggage, which had now dropped to the floor.
*That was close,* Kentarre thought to herself. *I'd better not use any more magic without appearing to use my wand.*
After that, she eventually boarded the train and found a seat in a vacated car near the train's end. She settled herself down and began to watch the last-minute comings and goings of students and parents. Nothing there seemed to interest her, so she stood, stretched just a bit, and then began to inspect the compartment she was in. The seats were soft plush and the floors were carpeted with a reddish sort of padding. Passing outside the door could be heard the pattering of feet and the murmur of muffled voices of students. Once, Kentarre thought she heard the voice of Draco, but then his was replaced by others.
Occasionally, someone would peek into her compartment to see if it was vacant or not, and then apologize for barging in. Some didn't apologize, but simply closed the door indifferently. Others knocked and called from outside, to which she answered, "Go away."
And then, the thing she least expected happened. None other than the blond boy Draco opened the door. Unlike the others who just poked their heads in, he slid the door wide open. The pair of them looked at each other shrewdly. Then he spoke. "Who are you?" he inquired. "I am no one to be trifled with," she replied. "Who are you?"
"Really? The name's Draco Malfoy. Are you a first year?"
"Not exactly."
"What kind of an answer is that?"
"It's mine. Were you looking for something?"
"An empty car. Would you mind if we imposed upon this one?"
"We?" It was then that she noticed the two boys behind Malfoy. Or rather, giants. They stood both at least a foot taller than Malfoy, and they were heavily built, so they could have passed for sumo wrestlers back in Japan. She studied them for a moment and then said, "You can have that seat," and pointed to the one across from her. Without a word, they entered and sat, one of the others closing the door behind them. Malfoy sat directly across from her, near the window, and the other two were left to fend for themselves. It was then that Malfoy commenced his questioning.
"So, when you said 'Not exactly,' what exactly did you mean?"
"Just that."
"Oh, come off it. You're either a first year or you're not. Just like you're either a pureblood or you're not."
"Pardon?"
"Are your mum and dad both like us?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I don't know my parents. So naturally, I don't know if they were both m-... uh, a wizard and a witch."
"Gee, that's too bad," Malfoy droned, but didn't sound as if he meant it. "So, anyway, how old are you?"
Kentarre decided she was liking this boy less and less. "Fifteen," she replied curtly.
"Really? I was sent my letter when I was eleven."
"I wasn't in the country when I was eleven."
"Well, where were you?"
"I was... oh, let's see... I was in Egypt when I was eleven."
"You moved to England from there?"
"No. From there I moved to America, then Germany, then China, then Mongolia, then Japan. Then I moved to England."
"And you've got no parents?"
"I said that, didn't I?"
"Uh-huh." He didn't really sound very believing, and Kentarre found she didn't really care.
The conversation took a downturn from there, with Malfoy asking questions with increasing discomfort and Kentarre answering with increasing dislike. Finally, Malfoy announced smoothly, "Well, it's been nice chatting, but I think we're going to go and find an empty car. Thanks anyway."
Kentarre sneered, "Anytime," at his retreating back, and watched with relief as on of his cronies closed the door behind them. *He's a complete idiot,* she seethed. *So naive, so confident, so utterly annoying it was making me nauseas. I'd better keep a close watch on him, because he's not one to be trusted.*
Kentarre resumed staring out the window at the whizzing scenery and began to think about what Hogwarts should be like. She'd already seen a bit of it, and from what she could tell, living there would be quite an experience. *Why am I going to this place?* she wondered to herself. *What makes me drawn here? Do I have some purpose at Hogwarts? Does the headmaster know more than he lets on? Or am I simply going to be a pawn for him, now that he knows who I am? Hmmm. I'd better be careful. I don't want to be cornered, especially now that he's active again...* Her thoughts continued along this train with no further interruptions, save for the elderly witch who came by to sell food items off of a cart, which Kentarre declined.
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When the train reached the station with a screech of brakes and a whine of engine, Kentarre departed from it with her heavy black cloak flapping around her cheeks and legs in the evening wind and Nemesis clinging tightly to her shoulder. He hadn't liked the train ride too much, and she had decided to be merciful and let him out. Malfoy had noticed Nemesis during the train ride, and he had been only too happy to share the fact that his own eagle owl had been given to him as a gift from his father for making it to Hogwarts. However, his demeanor turned a shade lofty when she told him that Nemesis was a falcon, and was a match for any owl, even an eagle owl.
A loud, booming voice rose above the noise of the shifting crowd. "Firs' years, over here! This way, firs' years!" The source of the shouts was Hagrid, the large man she had met on her first visit to Hogwarts. He had a gradually growing group of nervous-looking young people in tow, and he began to lead them away. Kentarre, because she was already carrying all of her luggage, climbed into one of the carriages that other students her age were boarding, and immediately it started off down the lane leading away from the station. Nemesis, who had before been chirruping at the other animals, specifically birds, in the busy station, now shifted on her shoulder and began to preen his feathers.
The carriage brought them to the castle's front door, at which point Kentarre disembarked and began to ascend the steps, attracting many stares because of Nemesis, who was now ruffling his feathers and flapping his wings occasionally. The front doors were open, and Kentarre entered them to find herself in the same entrance hall she had been in before. Several students shed their coats and sweaters, swung them over their arms, and proceeded through another set of doors. These doors, just as wide as the first, were oaken and completely solid; they looked very heavy. Through these Kentarre passed and looked around passively. It was a long, brightly lit hall; four tables were placed parallel to each other in the center, and one more was placed perpendicular to these. Students were taking their places at the four center ones while the fifth was occupied by adults, and in the center of these was Professor Dumbledore. He appeared to have been watching the doorway, and when he spotted Kentarre and their eyes met, he rose from his chair and began to swiftly make his way towards her. He whispered softly in her ear, "Just wait over there, and I'll call you when it's time." She raised her eyebrow imperiously at him, even as he pulled away. "What have you got in mind?" she inquired. He simply smiled at her and answered, "You'll probably figure it out." Then he left her to her own conclusions and inferences. Not having else to do, she did as he bid her by leaning up against the wall to her left, drawn back into the shadows as not to be noticable.
Soon the students' seating arrangement had been settled. A hush washed over the hall as Professor McGonagall led in a group of children; the same group that Hagrid had separated from the rest of them, Kentarre noticed. They were lined up facing the teacher's table, and a three-legged stool was placed in front of them. On the stool was placed a ragged, conical, patched, wide-brimmed hat. Everyone stared at it, and no one spoke or made a noise. A rip near the base of the hat, and from it a song could be heard. Kentarre couldn't catch all of it because of her position at the back of the room. This continued for a few minutes, and when it ended a wave of applause followed. Afterward came the interesting part; one by one, student's names were called from a long list. As their names were called, they would come up to place the hat on their heads and sit on the stool. After varying waiting periods, the hat would shout out a word, and according to which word was called, the student would sit at the corresponding table, which was usually clapping and cheering the hat's choice. This process continued, and Kentarre soon was able to distinguish which table was which.
The students were soon all distributed between tables, but the hat on its stool was left in the same place on its stool. The headmaster took this opportunity to rise and say a few words, which he did. "Thank you all for your patience during the Sorting Ceremony," he began. "Before we begin with the feast, some announcements must be made. First of all, the Forbidden Forest is, as always, forbidden. Also, I have been informed that stricter punishment will be bestowed upon those students who choose to venture out of bed after hours due to the recent circumstances I am sure most of you are aware of." There was a pause, during which a whisper passed through the hall, and Kentarre "hmmph"-ed knowingly.
Dumbledore continued, "Well, aside from those undesirable facts, there is only one more piece of business that must be taken care of. Kentarre, would you come up here, please."
Kentarre, disgruntled that he had chosen now to do whatever he had wanted to do, obeyed, sauntering up to the teacher's table. She attempted not to go so fast as to force her hood off of her shadowed face as she made her way.
When she arrived, Dumbledore instructed her to remove her hood and place the Sorting Hat on her head so she could be Sorted. Grumbling, she did so, and as she removed her hood, another whisper passed over the students. She noticed many of them talking behind their hands.
The Sorting Hat fitted neatly right over her eyes, throwing her into total darkness. A small voice spoke in her ear, and she noticed that the room beyond had become very still. *Hmmm,* it said, *I've never Sorted one like you before in all my years of service to Hogwarts. Your race is very rare, as I'm sure you know. Hmmm, you're not known for loyalty, but you have good intentions. I see you have a desire to rise above the rest, to be greater. Very clever, yes, much intelligence and wit. However, you tend to fare better as a loner. Your gut feelings have served you well. So where shall I put you? I've got it. You're a GRYFFINDOR! As this last word echoed through the hall, the table on the far left erupted in cheers as she removed the hat and blatently walked to the table. Its occupants all sent her curious stares as she sat at a relatively vacant spot. She grumpily replaced her hood to the obvious disappointment of those of her classmates that hadn't gotten a good look at her yet. Dumbledore resumed his speech once she had gained her seat. "Now that that's taken care of, I presume there is no other pressing business to finish, so let us eat!"
The gleaming, golden dishes before them were promptly filled with steaming, assorted substances. Crinkling her nose, Kentarre leaned in to sniff the dish in front of her with distaste. Leaning back, she resolutely remained still, never lifting her hand to serve herself, as others around her were doing. The person across from her spoke to her, "You're not going to eat?"
"No," she replied shortly. He raised his eyebrows and continued to heap some of the substance onto his plate. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the boy beside her was cautiously sneaking looks at her while serving himself, and his friends beside him were doing the same. None of them were very good at it, and Kentarre remained painfully aware of it until the boy nearest her plucked up the courage to speak to her. "Hi," he intoned, and then waited for her reply. She inclined her head in his direction to show she heard him, but made no attempt for further conversation. Instead, to her dismay, he did. "You're name's Kentarre?" he asked. Both of his friends, like him, were gaping at her, ignoring their plates of food. Another inclination, this time in the form of a nod. "Mine's Harry, and this is Ron and Hermione," he stabbed again, and gestured to both of the people beside him. They smiled weakly, and one of them, Ron, asked her, "Are you going to eat?" Once again, her response was, "No."
The boy Harry tried again. "Are you a first year?" Gosh, that dratted question again. "Not exactly."
"I don't understand, either you are or you aren't." *Hmmm, that sounds familiar,* she mused. "You don't have to understand. It is the way it is."
"Whatever. So, why did Dumbledore have you Sorted seperately, if you're not a first year?"
"Why don't you ask him?"
"Because we're in the middle of dinner."
"Good. Then get back to your dinner."
Kentarre thought that this might have sounded a bit harsh, but it was the only way she could think of to get him to stop asking questions, which he did. After that, he and his friends went back to their plates, and Kentarre to her account of the room and the people in it. Conversation was nearly incomprehensible because it was going on in all parts of the room. Kentarre could spot the Malfoy kid on the opposite side of the hall at the table that had been designated as the Slytherin table. She watched him for a while, but he never looked up at her.
Very soon the banquet's course took a turn; all kinds of desserts imaginable began to fill the place of the first course's dishes. Kentarre once again looked on with disgust as the surrounding persons helped themselves.
Every so often, a person would get up with the pretense of going to get another dish from the other end of the table, but very often they would go back to their end empty-handed. Each one stared at the back of Kentarre's head, as if they would see something spectacular on the hood of her robe. Usually, when Kentarre was in a crowd, it dulled her sense of being watched; this time, she was doubly aware of it. The hairs on the back of her neck were at a constant prickle. Her eyes darted around, and everywhere, she saw faces turned in her direction and eyes burning with curiosity. A few faces had expressions of distaste, and on one face she could detect the slightest traces of jealousy. The latter was the face of a person sitting on the far table; the girl had an upturned nose and shrewd eyes that made her look like a pug. Her face had a lofty, snobbish expression for the most part, save that tiny bit of jealousy. She was sitting next to the Malfoy kid, who was sneering and talking to his "friends" about something hidden under the table.
Kentarre's upper lip curled at the sight of him now. *Somebody should really put that confident knucklehead in his place at the end of the line,* she thought with a snarl.
By now, people had begun to finish their dessert; many people were leaning back and patting their full stomachs. Kentarre looked around with a glint of relief in her eye. Suddenly, she became uncomfortably aware of three pairs of eyes turned in her direction. Dreadfully, she looked to her right; there was the threesome, staring at her. She said sardonically, "That's one killer way to get someone's attention."
Harry's eyes clouded. "Huh? Oh, you mean staring at you. Well, we were wondering if we could meet you back in the common room to just, you know, talk a bit before bed."
She replied, "You're the Potter boy, right?"
He looked uncomfortable, but nodded.
Kentarre eyed him calculatingly. "All right, we'll talk. But I warn you, I'm not a conversationalist."
Harry smiled. "You've proved that already."
"Then why are you still talking to me?"
He shrugged. "See you in the common room."
Just then, Dumbledore rose again and motioned for silence, which was obtained after a moment. He spoke loudly, "Well, now that we are all fed and watered, I think that goodnights are in order. Everyone to bed!"
The entire hall took to its feet immediately following this announcement and began to shuffle toward the door. Kentarre rose, but did not follow them. Instead, she fought her way to the teacher's table, where Dumbledore was still standing to watch them all go. She reached him, and he gave her a kind smile. "Is there something you wanted to ask me?" he asked benevolently. She merely said, "I've been asked many times, 'Are you a first year?'. Well, am I?"
"Well, that is yet to be decided. I have concluded that you will be tested to determine which year you will be in." Dumbledore leaned in to whisper in her ear, "But you have to use your wand for this test. If you want to, you may just channel the magic through the wand without any incantation. This way it will look like you are one of us without you having to learn our ways."
She intoned back, "I appreciate that, but it would be easier if I could do without."
"Well, you see, that would cause for some speculation among the students, and we wouldn't want that, would we?"
She glared at him, and his eye twinkled. "The test will be held tomorrow morning right after breakfast. After your year is determined, you will then join your classmates in the class they happen to be in at the time you finish the test. Oh, and by the way, the Gryffindor password is *Dragonfeather.* Goodnight, Kentarre."
"Goodnight, Professor."
With that, she pivoted and began to make her way toward the now- clear doorway. "Oh, and one more thing, Kentarre," said the headmaster from behind her. She paused to turn her head just a small increment. He smiled at her. "Good luck tomorrow," he said. She gave a shrewd smile. "Right," she agreed, and continued out of the hall.
Now that she was out and back into the entrance hall, Kentarre breathed a sigh of relief and reprieve. *My problems aren't over yet,* she regretted. *They never are. Now I have to go talk to the Potter boy. This should be interesting...*
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The Gryffindor common room was furnished with squishy, red armchairs that were scattered throughout the room. A fire blazed in the grate, casting a warm, red glow about the place. Kentarre spotted Potter and his group in a corner by the window, huddled together and seemingly deep in conversation. Kentarre smirked and walked up. "Thank you for waiting," she said in a rather deep tone. Harry pulled away from the discussion and said, "Oh, you made it. What took you?"
"I had some business to attend. Now, who are these whose acquaintance I have not made?"
Harry gestured to each. "This is Fred and that's- wait, no, that's Fred, and that's George, Ron's older brothers, and this is their friend, Lee Jordan. Guys, this is Kentarre...?" An expectant look was sent her way. "Hisakata," she supplied. The one called Fred asked loudly, "Why don't you take off your hood? It's kinda warm in here." Kentarre gave him an icy stare, but obliged. Her pale, smooth skin looked almost rouged in the firelight. Everyone tried to look as though they were not staring at her, but Kentarre knew better. The moment was quite awkward; well, for everyone except Kentarre, who searched every face as though daring someone to ask how her hair got to be its metallic, silver color.
The silence was shattered by someone at the center of the common room barking, "All right! We've had our party time, now it's time to hit the sack!!" Each head focused on the speaker, a skinny, pasty- faced, brown-haired boy who looked as though he could be twelve or eleven. Several people turned back to their occupations without a word, while others could be heard uttering derisive snorts and comments. One person asked, "Who are you?" The boy puffed himself up. "I'm the Gryffindor prefect, and you all are supposed to be following that order!" he tried to bellow, but it came out as a rather high-pitched screech. Kentarre herself couldn't help but watch in amusement as no one budged an inch. Suddenly, one person stood up. "Okay, guys, we really should go to bed, all right?" suggested the teen, and then he started for the boy's dorm. Several boys then began to follow suit. The prefect in the center stared gratefully at the leader before he disappeared up the stairs. Kentarre remained immobile as the boys in her group looked at each other before getting up to join the throng. A group of girls went the opposite way, heading off to the left instead of the right, like the boys.
Kentarre watched them go with dread, knowing she would eventually be made to go with them. And so she did, gritting her teeth and steeling herself for the stares and unspoken questions that would soon follow. Little did she know how right she was, for when she arrived in the girls' dorm, a hush pervaded the room. Gleaming, curious eyes followed her every move. Kentarre could think of only one way to get rid of it. One by one, she locked eyes with the inhabitants of the room, making them look away in embarrasment. Kentarre chose to sleep in the bed that was closest to the window and farthest from the door, the one in the very rear of the room. The curtains on the canopy bed were drawn, and Nemesis's cage stood at the end of the bed. Nemesis himself was presumably outside catching an after-dinner snack, a mouse or other rodent. Kentarre drew out her bag from underneath her cloak, and this joined the mesh enclosure at the foot of the bed.
Kentarre shed her cloak. She was revealed to be wearing a pair of very faded jeans and a blood red tank top. Minutes later, she was dressed in a pajama set that comprised of long, black, loose-fitting, wool pants and a similar sleeveless shirt. The entire set had embroidered silver stars scattered all over. Without much ado, she unceremoniously parted the curtains and passed between them, closing them firmly behind her. The long red drapes hid all activity within them, save for a bit of light that could be seen emitting from inside. Most of the others, who were wrapped in their own affairs, ignored this change and resumed their endless babble (as you probably know, girls like to babble).
Presently, music could be heard from within Kentarre's canopy bed. All activity in the room came to a halt. From the sound of it, it was fast and had a rhythmic beat, much like that which could be heard from headphones that someone else is listening to. Hermione bravely approached Kentarre's bed. "Umm... Kentarre?" she said tentatively. No answer. She tried again. "What is that?"
"What is what?" came the curt reply.
"That music. What is it?"
"It's just what you said it is. Music."
"But, how are you listening to music? All electronic devices won't work if tried on Hogwarts campus."
"Is that so? Thank you for sharing that, I'll be sure to note that in my log."
"You didn't answer my question. How are you listening to that?"
The curtains parted just a sliver. "Who said I was using electronics?" Kentarre pointed out, a bit rudely.
Hermione flushed. "Well, it sounded as though you were using headphones."
"That's right."
Hermione paused, puzzled. "What?"
"I am using headphones... well, sort of. Would you like me to show you so that we can both get some sleep?"
Hermione nodded, and Kentarre opened the curtains a little wider. "See?" she said gruffly. She held out a pair of ordinary-looking headphones that were connected to- a ball of light? Hermione looked closer. The wire leading from the headphones disappeared right into the center of a glowing ball of light. "I modified it myself. The headphones are powered by magic. It's a little spell I sort of... concocted," Kentarre noted, hoping this would satisfy her. *Geez,* Kentarre thought, *what does she think I am, a people person??*
Hermione, after getting a good look- or two- at the ball, looked at Kentarre and asked, "So, what are you listening to?" Kentarre said shortly, "My favorite radio station. Right now it's in commercial break. You should go to bed. First day of term tomorrow." Hermione nodded, and then seemed to remember something. "Oh, by the way, did you ever find out what year you're in?"
"It's going to be decided tomorrow."
"How?"
"I'll be tested."
"Oh. Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow!"
"Whatever. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
When Hermione had gone back to her own bed, Kentarre pulled the curtain sharply back into place. *Nosy people irritate me,* she fumed. Replacing the headphones, she activated the song that had been playing. Its familiar melody seemed to echo on and on, singing to her the very truth she had known for every waking moment of every day. Involuntarily, she found her mind singing along with it, wanting to embrace what she had so long rejected and hated.
And then it was over. Kentarre removed the headphones and dissipated the ball of light. The end of the headphone wire fell to the bed with a muffled thud. Kentarre noticed that, though the lights were out, conversation still seemed to be going on. Whispered giggles and hushed gossiping could be heard going back and forth between the beds. Kentarre growled irritably to herself. *Geez, will this never end??* she wondered exasperatedly. Kentarre lay down and faced the left side of the bed, which was near the window. She could see that there was another part in the curtains on this side of the bed. Rising, she shoved it apart and found herself bathed in white light. The moon, a waxing gibbous, soothed her and calmed the tempest raging inside; the urge to throttle something had nearly disappeared now. She placed her feet on the hard, cold stone floor and walked to the window to look out. She saw that she was up in a tower, and that the view was unlike any other. The lake perfectly mirrored the moon, and the forest had been suddenly turned milky white. She opened the window to let some air in, which was chilly and clear. Leaning farther out, she could see other parts of the roof of the castle, which had been painted silver.
The cry of a bird could be heard from somewhere nearby, and presently Kentarre could see Nemesis gliding toward her in the moonlight. His wings and body were also shaded by the moon's effect. He landed on the windowsill and chirped once. "Hello, Nemesis," she replied to his greeting. He jumped up to her shoulder and nudged her in a gesture which she took as affectionate. "You know," she thought aloud to the bird (but not too loud), "you and I are pretty well matched, neh?" Another nuzzle. She smiled. "Well," she murmured, "I'd better get to bed. I want to be ready for my 'test' tomorrow." Nemesis watched her sarcastic expression slowly fade from her face with one of sympathetic understanding on his. She looked at his features and laughed. "You can't stand them either, can you?" she asked. He plucked at his feathers in distaste. "I agree," she intoned. After a pause, Kentarre suggested that she say goodnight, and that he do the same. "I understand there is an Owlery. I want you to stay there tonight. Tomorrow you can go anywhere you want to, but you must understand that you can't come and see me in class, and especially not during the test." He gave her a look that said, "I know that already." She smiled. "Goodnight, Nemesis." He nipped her finger and took off once more. Watching him go, she smiled in spite of herself. *Well done, Kentarre. You made a good choice when you chose him.* But, she contradicted herself, she didn't really choose him; rather, vice versa.
Kentarre slowly headed back to her bed, her footsteps completely inaudible. The bed was soft, and the pillow was deep. She had no trouble falling asleep, covered only by her cloak, which she had placed on the bed after removing it. Her slumber was uninterrupted and complete; nothing would wake her until the morn.
And so concludes the second chapter of my story. I hope you find this one slightly more interesting than the last one! There will be more in the third chapter, "Rivals." I hope you will keep reading! Thank you!!
Kentarre once again breached the distance between the busy streets and the castle, finally reaching it just as the moon was rising over the horizon. Nemesis let out an occasional chirp for every sharp jolt, but other than that was silent as the evening mist that settled around the castle and hovered above the lake. This time, Kentarre was let in the front door by a woman in green print robes and dangling floral earrings. The woman admitted her when told of her purpose, and Kentarre had no trouble finding the gargoyle, just as ugly as ever, that led to the headmaster's chamber.
Now, outside the door, Kentarre had her first second thoughts about telling Dumbledore the truth at all. *What he doesn't know won't hurt him,* she thought, *and it would help to make my solitude a little more complete.* However, in the end, she let her hand continue its journey to descend upon the door and knock sharply. "Enter," came the familiar voice.
Kentarre did so, and closed the door with a foreboding click. "Headmaster," she began, "it has come to my attention that there are certain truths that remain untold." The headmaster replied cryptically, "Ah, yes, that is often the case about truths. I suspect that you wish to reveal them?" Kentarre gave him a skeptical look. "That depends on your ability to conceal them," she said bluntly.
The old man's eyes twinkled. "I give you my word, whatever you have to tell will not leave this office. Except, of course, when it chances to enter my own thoughts." Kentarre frowned, but continued.
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Approximately thirty minutes later, Kentarre left Dumbledore's office with strict instructions to go and get herself a wand, but to be extremely discreet about it. Dumbledore had already sent an owl to the owner of the store telling him exactly when Kentarre would stop by. She was to go in, get her wand, and get out, and no one would be left the wiser.
The stone steps leading out of the castle looked very inviting; Kentarre had spent a rather embarrassing half hour with the headmaster and was glad to get away from it. However, she felt a strange sense of duty that she had rarely felt before, as though she had done the right thing by telling him about herself.
*Ha,* thought she, *I've never been very good at doing the right thing, and I've certainly never felt myself doing it before. Why should now be any different?* But as she looked back over her shoulder at the shadowed castle, she knew that it was different. Too different. This kind of different could change everything. And change, this kind of change, was not on her list of desirable personal traits.
Kentarre clicked her boots irritably on the cobblestones as she searched for the shop selling wands.
She found the shop and entered without hesitation. Inside seemed completely unaffected by the cooling air outside; the shop was stuffy and warm, and dust seemed to settle everywhere. Lining the walls were boxes upon slender boxes, rows upon rows, stretching all the way to the back of the store and around a corner. It was from around this corner that an old man whose demeanor emitted no age at all appeared; his grey eyes squinted at Kentarre for a few minutes before the man reached up and placed a pair of glasses in front of them. "You must be Kentarre Hisakata," he inferred. She said, "And you, Mr. Ollivander." At this, he smiled, revealing white, straight teeth that glistened at her even in the dimly lit store. "Well, since we have no need for introdutions, shall we get on and find you a wand?" Without waiting for an answer, he bustled away and came back carrying a small chair. Upon this he stood, lifting down a few boxes from the tops of a few stacks. "Which is your wand hand?" he asked crisply. Kentarre indicated her left, which was not holding Nemesis. The first wand he handed to Kentarre and told her to "give it a wave." As she did so, the wand felt warm and released several sparks from the tip. Mr. Ollivander's eyes widened in surprise, and Nemesis rustled uneasily in his cage. Kentarre looked nonplussed. "In all my years of selling wands, only once have I ever encountered someone who matched the first wand they waved. Here, try another one to be on the safe side," said the salesman nervously, as though this news was not good news at all.
The next wand produced the same result. And the next, and the next, and the next. Mr. Ollivander finally and incredulously fell into the chair, his brow furrowed deeply and his eyes confused and clouded. "What could make this happen?" he wanted to know. Kentarre looked away, her eyes dark and withdrawn as though they were hidden behind curtains. Mr. Ollivander gazed up at her, and she felt his eyes as though they were putting physical pressure on her, though she kept her lips sealed. The man picked up the first wand she had tried. "Which would you rather? I've never given someone a choice of wand before, but I suppose that's the only way to decide which one you will take, as they all react to you." Kentarre gestured to the one he held. "That one will do just fine," she said. He nodded and began to wrap it up in its box, afterward making futile attempts to find the others' coordinating boxes. Kentarre purchased her wand, her eyes showing her distaste, and left the shop and the strange shopkeeper.
Dumbledore had given her other instructions, also. When she arrived back at the Leaky Cauldron beyond Diagon Alley, she was to occupy a room that Dumbledore had secured for her until the school year began on September first. These orders were to be followed immediately after she purchased her wand, but Kentarre wasn't finished yet. There was another road leading off of Diagon Alley, yet this was not part of the brightly lit shopping center. A decrepit sign hung above the entrance to this dim, gloomy side street that said "Knockturn Alley." Kentarre, across the pavement from this entrance, looked at it darkly and strode directly under it and into the foreboding dark.
Inside, a little light came from above, however limited by the towering skyline. The shops themselves portrayed little more light from inside; most of them had no light at all. Many of the shopkeepers sold their wares outside, and strange objects they sold indeed. There were several displays of what looked like body parts, and several of putrid, smoking potions. One shop in particular caught Kentarre's eye; it was quite large, and it advertised spellbooks. Kentarre stood in front of this window until she heard someone speaking right behind her. The voice had an oily, droning quality, and by the tone, it belonged to a young boy. "Father, you said you'd get me something in Joldar's. And here it is!"
A man's voice replied irritably, "All right, Draco, but be quick."
The couple who spoke walked into the store Kentarre stood before, and she eyed the younger with great scrutiny. He was blonde, and was wearing a rather snooty expression on his face as he strolled businesslike through the door, as if he was at home. Curious, Kentarre entered at their heels, thinking she'd do a bit of spying, because she had naught else to do. Once inside, she parted company with the father and son, and began to roam the store, just to seem casual. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls and littered the floor, and myriad books filled these. However, the shop sold things other than books, and it was to these things that the boy called Draco was attracted. Kentarre began to browse, careful to keep the boy and his father within earshot. Draco talked for a while about which item he would select from the foul-smelling pile, but eventually his one-man conversation turned to other subjects, and it was in these other topics that Kentarre was interested.
"And you know, Father, they're allowing far too many Mudbloods into the school this year. It's contaminating the rest of us, really. Why couldn't you send me to Durmstrang like all the rest of the respectable purebloods?"
"I've told you several times, Draco, your mother won't allow it. She doesn't want you to have to go so far away."
"Well, I don't see what's so wrong with it, and I think it's worth it. It's bound to be a whole lot better than half-breed Hogwarts."
"You are not the authoritator on that point, however, so might we just get what we came for and leave?"
A brief silence. Then Draco picked up a bundle of trick bookmarks that stained the pages they were holding, purchased it, and left the store on his father's left flank.
Kentarre then emerged from the shadows. She had noticed that the boy had been carrying bags not unlike her own; he had apparently shopped at the same places Kentarre had, and, she noted, bought most of the same items, such as potion ingredients and spellbooks. Nemesis, who had not left her side, had remained sagely silent while they were there, but now glared after the two shoppers with obvious distaste. "I agree," she murmured to the falcon, "I don't like them at all. There's something funny about the boy..."
Abruptly, Kentarre left the store behind, and with it Knockturn Alley. The archway leading out of Diagon Alley was just up ahead, and it was in this direction that she headed. On the way, she heard many snitches of conversation, all of it meaningless, unless you count a little boy shouting to his mother from across the street about a new racing broom.
She soon made arrangements in the Leaky Cauldron for her stay there. The bartender, Tom, led her up to her room and told her the policy on meals and room service. She thanked him, and he smiled and exited, leaving her and her belongings. A window was situated at the left corner of the room, and through this she could see Diagon Alley, now with only a few late shoppers left. The moon had risen a quarter in the sky, and the Hogwarts castle, seen from a distance, had many twinkling lights adorning its silhouette, as did most of the shops below.
Kentarre, not bothering to unpack her things, set Nemesis down on her nightstand, and, on a whim, opened his cage on the condition that he wouldn't cause a ruckus. Nemesis, glad for a reprieve from the tight cage, glided noiselessly around the room for a spell, and then settled on the bedstead, preening and fluffing his brown speckled feathers. Kentarre made a deal with him; if he would be back before she went to bed, she would let him out. If not, he wouldn't be let out again for another two nights. At this proposition, he cocked his head at her, considering. Having come to a conclusion, he pecked her gently on the hand, and, rising, she let him out the window and watched him soar out into the night air, high above the deteriorating business being held below in the streetshops.
*Ah, nighttime,* she thought, *the most glorious time. A time of peace and silence.* Kentarre stood, extinguished the conventional lamp, and ignited one of her own: her glowing palm threw shimmering shadows on the walls and floor. A symbol began to form on the front and back of her palm, a symbol that could only be seen under these circumstances: three circles, one inside the other. Well she knew it; many times had she seen it. This little symbol, etched in glowing crimson, had become her life, her very soul and essence, from the moment she learned of its meaning.
Kentarre stared at it, as always, with a glint of respect in her eyes, yes, respect and, oddly, friendship. At first, she had hated the sign, hated what it stood for, hated the reason it was there. Now, a sort of kinship had come, and, yes, a submission to its existence, and a gratefulness for its help.
Suddenly, there came a slight tapping on her window panes; Nemesis had returned, feathers ruffled and askew from his exhilerating flight. Smiling, she admitted him and reassured him that the deal was still on; Nemesis later received a bit from her dinner that she had saved for him if he was good. This he devoured and then chirped for more, which she gave him with a grin. Now, perched on her shoulder, he nudged her hair playfully and then cooed his goodnights. He spent the rest of the night with his head under his wing.
As for Kentarre, she adjusted the position of her bed to where her head would be just under the window. Lying there, she found it quite comfortable, as the moon's pale light illuminated her face and hair, making the latter seem even more silvery than usual. It was then that she slept, a peaceful, gratifying slumber.
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During the next few days, Kentarre acquired for herself a number of other items, such as a cloak and a lunascope. Nemesis generally went with her wherever she went, and gradually she began to wean him off of being in his cage all the time. For a short amount of time she would let him out on the condition that he either stay very close or sit on her shoulder. He seemed to like the latter better, and though he attracted quite a bit of attention, Kentarre was completely content to let him stay there. Eventually he came to the point where the cage, for the most part, stayed in her room, open and vacant, while Nemesis roamed about with her on her excursions.
More and more frequently, she began to notice people of roughly her own age shopping in Diagon Alley. September first was drawing nearer and nearer, and she supposed that most of them were Hogwarts students. A few of them seemed to know each other, for she could see them traveling about in groups of three or four, oftentimes leaving their parents to deal with the packages. And still more of them gave Kentarre curious stares as she passed them, to say nothing of the gapes they sent Nemesis. If he noticed this, however, he merely turned his head in aloofness, as though setting himself apart from their prying eyes.
It was thus that she patrolled the streets, paying no particular attention to anyone, but all the same keeping her eye out for the blond kid she'd seen in Knockturn Alley. Eventually, she drew fewer and fewer stares, and as September first drew ever closer, more people could be seen leaving Diagon Alley with pets and packages of their own. Kentarre, after receiving a screech owl from Dumbledore, was fully prepared to leave her apartment when September first dawned cold and clear.
On the said morning, Kentarre thanked the bald bartender downstairs and made her way out onto the street, this time carrying Nemesis in his cage, much to his dismay. The rest of her belongings were stowed away in her small, drawstring bag, which was slung across her shoulder. King's Cross Station itself was easy to find at eleven o'clock in the morning, and, after watching a few others do it, she figured out how to get onto the designated platform. Once there, Kentarre found herself in a brightly lit, bustling world, and in the center of this was the red and shining Hogwarts Express, already being boarded. Kentarre hadn't found a need for a cart, as she was carrying so few things, so she also hadn't much trouble getting her luggage onto the train. A boy in front of her was muttering to his friend beside him about his new racing broom, a Nimbus 2001, he said. Kentarre wasn't particularly interested in the conversation because they seemed to be taking an awfully long time to board the train. Looking ahead to see what was the holdup, Kentarre spotted the boy at the front of the line, who was struggling with his suitcase. Sighing in exasperation, she walked up to him and said curtly, "Need some help?" When he nodded, she told him, "Stand back." When he did, she reached under the protruding front end and pointed two fingers at the bottom. The case, under her guidance, lifted and floated into the car. The boy stared. "Thanks," he breathed. "How'd you do that without a wand?" Kentarre then realized her mistake, and produced her wand from behind her back. Seeming satisfied, he boarded the train behind his luggage, which had now dropped to the floor.
*That was close,* Kentarre thought to herself. *I'd better not use any more magic without appearing to use my wand.*
After that, she eventually boarded the train and found a seat in a vacated car near the train's end. She settled herself down and began to watch the last-minute comings and goings of students and parents. Nothing there seemed to interest her, so she stood, stretched just a bit, and then began to inspect the compartment she was in. The seats were soft plush and the floors were carpeted with a reddish sort of padding. Passing outside the door could be heard the pattering of feet and the murmur of muffled voices of students. Once, Kentarre thought she heard the voice of Draco, but then his was replaced by others.
Occasionally, someone would peek into her compartment to see if it was vacant or not, and then apologize for barging in. Some didn't apologize, but simply closed the door indifferently. Others knocked and called from outside, to which she answered, "Go away."
And then, the thing she least expected happened. None other than the blond boy Draco opened the door. Unlike the others who just poked their heads in, he slid the door wide open. The pair of them looked at each other shrewdly. Then he spoke. "Who are you?" he inquired. "I am no one to be trifled with," she replied. "Who are you?"
"Really? The name's Draco Malfoy. Are you a first year?"
"Not exactly."
"What kind of an answer is that?"
"It's mine. Were you looking for something?"
"An empty car. Would you mind if we imposed upon this one?"
"We?" It was then that she noticed the two boys behind Malfoy. Or rather, giants. They stood both at least a foot taller than Malfoy, and they were heavily built, so they could have passed for sumo wrestlers back in Japan. She studied them for a moment and then said, "You can have that seat," and pointed to the one across from her. Without a word, they entered and sat, one of the others closing the door behind them. Malfoy sat directly across from her, near the window, and the other two were left to fend for themselves. It was then that Malfoy commenced his questioning.
"So, when you said 'Not exactly,' what exactly did you mean?"
"Just that."
"Oh, come off it. You're either a first year or you're not. Just like you're either a pureblood or you're not."
"Pardon?"
"Are your mum and dad both like us?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I don't know my parents. So naturally, I don't know if they were both m-... uh, a wizard and a witch."
"Gee, that's too bad," Malfoy droned, but didn't sound as if he meant it. "So, anyway, how old are you?"
Kentarre decided she was liking this boy less and less. "Fifteen," she replied curtly.
"Really? I was sent my letter when I was eleven."
"I wasn't in the country when I was eleven."
"Well, where were you?"
"I was... oh, let's see... I was in Egypt when I was eleven."
"You moved to England from there?"
"No. From there I moved to America, then Germany, then China, then Mongolia, then Japan. Then I moved to England."
"And you've got no parents?"
"I said that, didn't I?"
"Uh-huh." He didn't really sound very believing, and Kentarre found she didn't really care.
The conversation took a downturn from there, with Malfoy asking questions with increasing discomfort and Kentarre answering with increasing dislike. Finally, Malfoy announced smoothly, "Well, it's been nice chatting, but I think we're going to go and find an empty car. Thanks anyway."
Kentarre sneered, "Anytime," at his retreating back, and watched with relief as on of his cronies closed the door behind them. *He's a complete idiot,* she seethed. *So naive, so confident, so utterly annoying it was making me nauseas. I'd better keep a close watch on him, because he's not one to be trusted.*
Kentarre resumed staring out the window at the whizzing scenery and began to think about what Hogwarts should be like. She'd already seen a bit of it, and from what she could tell, living there would be quite an experience. *Why am I going to this place?* she wondered to herself. *What makes me drawn here? Do I have some purpose at Hogwarts? Does the headmaster know more than he lets on? Or am I simply going to be a pawn for him, now that he knows who I am? Hmmm. I'd better be careful. I don't want to be cornered, especially now that he's active again...* Her thoughts continued along this train with no further interruptions, save for the elderly witch who came by to sell food items off of a cart, which Kentarre declined.
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When the train reached the station with a screech of brakes and a whine of engine, Kentarre departed from it with her heavy black cloak flapping around her cheeks and legs in the evening wind and Nemesis clinging tightly to her shoulder. He hadn't liked the train ride too much, and she had decided to be merciful and let him out. Malfoy had noticed Nemesis during the train ride, and he had been only too happy to share the fact that his own eagle owl had been given to him as a gift from his father for making it to Hogwarts. However, his demeanor turned a shade lofty when she told him that Nemesis was a falcon, and was a match for any owl, even an eagle owl.
A loud, booming voice rose above the noise of the shifting crowd. "Firs' years, over here! This way, firs' years!" The source of the shouts was Hagrid, the large man she had met on her first visit to Hogwarts. He had a gradually growing group of nervous-looking young people in tow, and he began to lead them away. Kentarre, because she was already carrying all of her luggage, climbed into one of the carriages that other students her age were boarding, and immediately it started off down the lane leading away from the station. Nemesis, who had before been chirruping at the other animals, specifically birds, in the busy station, now shifted on her shoulder and began to preen his feathers.
The carriage brought them to the castle's front door, at which point Kentarre disembarked and began to ascend the steps, attracting many stares because of Nemesis, who was now ruffling his feathers and flapping his wings occasionally. The front doors were open, and Kentarre entered them to find herself in the same entrance hall she had been in before. Several students shed their coats and sweaters, swung them over their arms, and proceeded through another set of doors. These doors, just as wide as the first, were oaken and completely solid; they looked very heavy. Through these Kentarre passed and looked around passively. It was a long, brightly lit hall; four tables were placed parallel to each other in the center, and one more was placed perpendicular to these. Students were taking their places at the four center ones while the fifth was occupied by adults, and in the center of these was Professor Dumbledore. He appeared to have been watching the doorway, and when he spotted Kentarre and their eyes met, he rose from his chair and began to swiftly make his way towards her. He whispered softly in her ear, "Just wait over there, and I'll call you when it's time." She raised her eyebrow imperiously at him, even as he pulled away. "What have you got in mind?" she inquired. He simply smiled at her and answered, "You'll probably figure it out." Then he left her to her own conclusions and inferences. Not having else to do, she did as he bid her by leaning up against the wall to her left, drawn back into the shadows as not to be noticable.
Soon the students' seating arrangement had been settled. A hush washed over the hall as Professor McGonagall led in a group of children; the same group that Hagrid had separated from the rest of them, Kentarre noticed. They were lined up facing the teacher's table, and a three-legged stool was placed in front of them. On the stool was placed a ragged, conical, patched, wide-brimmed hat. Everyone stared at it, and no one spoke or made a noise. A rip near the base of the hat, and from it a song could be heard. Kentarre couldn't catch all of it because of her position at the back of the room. This continued for a few minutes, and when it ended a wave of applause followed. Afterward came the interesting part; one by one, student's names were called from a long list. As their names were called, they would come up to place the hat on their heads and sit on the stool. After varying waiting periods, the hat would shout out a word, and according to which word was called, the student would sit at the corresponding table, which was usually clapping and cheering the hat's choice. This process continued, and Kentarre soon was able to distinguish which table was which.
The students were soon all distributed between tables, but the hat on its stool was left in the same place on its stool. The headmaster took this opportunity to rise and say a few words, which he did. "Thank you all for your patience during the Sorting Ceremony," he began. "Before we begin with the feast, some announcements must be made. First of all, the Forbidden Forest is, as always, forbidden. Also, I have been informed that stricter punishment will be bestowed upon those students who choose to venture out of bed after hours due to the recent circumstances I am sure most of you are aware of." There was a pause, during which a whisper passed through the hall, and Kentarre "hmmph"-ed knowingly.
Dumbledore continued, "Well, aside from those undesirable facts, there is only one more piece of business that must be taken care of. Kentarre, would you come up here, please."
Kentarre, disgruntled that he had chosen now to do whatever he had wanted to do, obeyed, sauntering up to the teacher's table. She attempted not to go so fast as to force her hood off of her shadowed face as she made her way.
When she arrived, Dumbledore instructed her to remove her hood and place the Sorting Hat on her head so she could be Sorted. Grumbling, she did so, and as she removed her hood, another whisper passed over the students. She noticed many of them talking behind their hands.
The Sorting Hat fitted neatly right over her eyes, throwing her into total darkness. A small voice spoke in her ear, and she noticed that the room beyond had become very still. *Hmmm,* it said, *I've never Sorted one like you before in all my years of service to Hogwarts. Your race is very rare, as I'm sure you know. Hmmm, you're not known for loyalty, but you have good intentions. I see you have a desire to rise above the rest, to be greater. Very clever, yes, much intelligence and wit. However, you tend to fare better as a loner. Your gut feelings have served you well. So where shall I put you? I've got it. You're a GRYFFINDOR! As this last word echoed through the hall, the table on the far left erupted in cheers as she removed the hat and blatently walked to the table. Its occupants all sent her curious stares as she sat at a relatively vacant spot. She grumpily replaced her hood to the obvious disappointment of those of her classmates that hadn't gotten a good look at her yet. Dumbledore resumed his speech once she had gained her seat. "Now that that's taken care of, I presume there is no other pressing business to finish, so let us eat!"
The gleaming, golden dishes before them were promptly filled with steaming, assorted substances. Crinkling her nose, Kentarre leaned in to sniff the dish in front of her with distaste. Leaning back, she resolutely remained still, never lifting her hand to serve herself, as others around her were doing. The person across from her spoke to her, "You're not going to eat?"
"No," she replied shortly. He raised his eyebrows and continued to heap some of the substance onto his plate. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the boy beside her was cautiously sneaking looks at her while serving himself, and his friends beside him were doing the same. None of them were very good at it, and Kentarre remained painfully aware of it until the boy nearest her plucked up the courage to speak to her. "Hi," he intoned, and then waited for her reply. She inclined her head in his direction to show she heard him, but made no attempt for further conversation. Instead, to her dismay, he did. "You're name's Kentarre?" he asked. Both of his friends, like him, were gaping at her, ignoring their plates of food. Another inclination, this time in the form of a nod. "Mine's Harry, and this is Ron and Hermione," he stabbed again, and gestured to both of the people beside him. They smiled weakly, and one of them, Ron, asked her, "Are you going to eat?" Once again, her response was, "No."
The boy Harry tried again. "Are you a first year?" Gosh, that dratted question again. "Not exactly."
"I don't understand, either you are or you aren't." *Hmmm, that sounds familiar,* she mused. "You don't have to understand. It is the way it is."
"Whatever. So, why did Dumbledore have you Sorted seperately, if you're not a first year?"
"Why don't you ask him?"
"Because we're in the middle of dinner."
"Good. Then get back to your dinner."
Kentarre thought that this might have sounded a bit harsh, but it was the only way she could think of to get him to stop asking questions, which he did. After that, he and his friends went back to their plates, and Kentarre to her account of the room and the people in it. Conversation was nearly incomprehensible because it was going on in all parts of the room. Kentarre could spot the Malfoy kid on the opposite side of the hall at the table that had been designated as the Slytherin table. She watched him for a while, but he never looked up at her.
Very soon the banquet's course took a turn; all kinds of desserts imaginable began to fill the place of the first course's dishes. Kentarre once again looked on with disgust as the surrounding persons helped themselves.
Every so often, a person would get up with the pretense of going to get another dish from the other end of the table, but very often they would go back to their end empty-handed. Each one stared at the back of Kentarre's head, as if they would see something spectacular on the hood of her robe. Usually, when Kentarre was in a crowd, it dulled her sense of being watched; this time, she was doubly aware of it. The hairs on the back of her neck were at a constant prickle. Her eyes darted around, and everywhere, she saw faces turned in her direction and eyes burning with curiosity. A few faces had expressions of distaste, and on one face she could detect the slightest traces of jealousy. The latter was the face of a person sitting on the far table; the girl had an upturned nose and shrewd eyes that made her look like a pug. Her face had a lofty, snobbish expression for the most part, save that tiny bit of jealousy. She was sitting next to the Malfoy kid, who was sneering and talking to his "friends" about something hidden under the table.
Kentarre's upper lip curled at the sight of him now. *Somebody should really put that confident knucklehead in his place at the end of the line,* she thought with a snarl.
By now, people had begun to finish their dessert; many people were leaning back and patting their full stomachs. Kentarre looked around with a glint of relief in her eye. Suddenly, she became uncomfortably aware of three pairs of eyes turned in her direction. Dreadfully, she looked to her right; there was the threesome, staring at her. She said sardonically, "That's one killer way to get someone's attention."
Harry's eyes clouded. "Huh? Oh, you mean staring at you. Well, we were wondering if we could meet you back in the common room to just, you know, talk a bit before bed."
She replied, "You're the Potter boy, right?"
He looked uncomfortable, but nodded.
Kentarre eyed him calculatingly. "All right, we'll talk. But I warn you, I'm not a conversationalist."
Harry smiled. "You've proved that already."
"Then why are you still talking to me?"
He shrugged. "See you in the common room."
Just then, Dumbledore rose again and motioned for silence, which was obtained after a moment. He spoke loudly, "Well, now that we are all fed and watered, I think that goodnights are in order. Everyone to bed!"
The entire hall took to its feet immediately following this announcement and began to shuffle toward the door. Kentarre rose, but did not follow them. Instead, she fought her way to the teacher's table, where Dumbledore was still standing to watch them all go. She reached him, and he gave her a kind smile. "Is there something you wanted to ask me?" he asked benevolently. She merely said, "I've been asked many times, 'Are you a first year?'. Well, am I?"
"Well, that is yet to be decided. I have concluded that you will be tested to determine which year you will be in." Dumbledore leaned in to whisper in her ear, "But you have to use your wand for this test. If you want to, you may just channel the magic through the wand without any incantation. This way it will look like you are one of us without you having to learn our ways."
She intoned back, "I appreciate that, but it would be easier if I could do without."
"Well, you see, that would cause for some speculation among the students, and we wouldn't want that, would we?"
She glared at him, and his eye twinkled. "The test will be held tomorrow morning right after breakfast. After your year is determined, you will then join your classmates in the class they happen to be in at the time you finish the test. Oh, and by the way, the Gryffindor password is *Dragonfeather.* Goodnight, Kentarre."
"Goodnight, Professor."
With that, she pivoted and began to make her way toward the now- clear doorway. "Oh, and one more thing, Kentarre," said the headmaster from behind her. She paused to turn her head just a small increment. He smiled at her. "Good luck tomorrow," he said. She gave a shrewd smile. "Right," she agreed, and continued out of the hall.
Now that she was out and back into the entrance hall, Kentarre breathed a sigh of relief and reprieve. *My problems aren't over yet,* she regretted. *They never are. Now I have to go talk to the Potter boy. This should be interesting...*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Gryffindor common room was furnished with squishy, red armchairs that were scattered throughout the room. A fire blazed in the grate, casting a warm, red glow about the place. Kentarre spotted Potter and his group in a corner by the window, huddled together and seemingly deep in conversation. Kentarre smirked and walked up. "Thank you for waiting," she said in a rather deep tone. Harry pulled away from the discussion and said, "Oh, you made it. What took you?"
"I had some business to attend. Now, who are these whose acquaintance I have not made?"
Harry gestured to each. "This is Fred and that's- wait, no, that's Fred, and that's George, Ron's older brothers, and this is their friend, Lee Jordan. Guys, this is Kentarre...?" An expectant look was sent her way. "Hisakata," she supplied. The one called Fred asked loudly, "Why don't you take off your hood? It's kinda warm in here." Kentarre gave him an icy stare, but obliged. Her pale, smooth skin looked almost rouged in the firelight. Everyone tried to look as though they were not staring at her, but Kentarre knew better. The moment was quite awkward; well, for everyone except Kentarre, who searched every face as though daring someone to ask how her hair got to be its metallic, silver color.
The silence was shattered by someone at the center of the common room barking, "All right! We've had our party time, now it's time to hit the sack!!" Each head focused on the speaker, a skinny, pasty- faced, brown-haired boy who looked as though he could be twelve or eleven. Several people turned back to their occupations without a word, while others could be heard uttering derisive snorts and comments. One person asked, "Who are you?" The boy puffed himself up. "I'm the Gryffindor prefect, and you all are supposed to be following that order!" he tried to bellow, but it came out as a rather high-pitched screech. Kentarre herself couldn't help but watch in amusement as no one budged an inch. Suddenly, one person stood up. "Okay, guys, we really should go to bed, all right?" suggested the teen, and then he started for the boy's dorm. Several boys then began to follow suit. The prefect in the center stared gratefully at the leader before he disappeared up the stairs. Kentarre remained immobile as the boys in her group looked at each other before getting up to join the throng. A group of girls went the opposite way, heading off to the left instead of the right, like the boys.
Kentarre watched them go with dread, knowing she would eventually be made to go with them. And so she did, gritting her teeth and steeling herself for the stares and unspoken questions that would soon follow. Little did she know how right she was, for when she arrived in the girls' dorm, a hush pervaded the room. Gleaming, curious eyes followed her every move. Kentarre could think of only one way to get rid of it. One by one, she locked eyes with the inhabitants of the room, making them look away in embarrasment. Kentarre chose to sleep in the bed that was closest to the window and farthest from the door, the one in the very rear of the room. The curtains on the canopy bed were drawn, and Nemesis's cage stood at the end of the bed. Nemesis himself was presumably outside catching an after-dinner snack, a mouse or other rodent. Kentarre drew out her bag from underneath her cloak, and this joined the mesh enclosure at the foot of the bed.
Kentarre shed her cloak. She was revealed to be wearing a pair of very faded jeans and a blood red tank top. Minutes later, she was dressed in a pajama set that comprised of long, black, loose-fitting, wool pants and a similar sleeveless shirt. The entire set had embroidered silver stars scattered all over. Without much ado, she unceremoniously parted the curtains and passed between them, closing them firmly behind her. The long red drapes hid all activity within them, save for a bit of light that could be seen emitting from inside. Most of the others, who were wrapped in their own affairs, ignored this change and resumed their endless babble (as you probably know, girls like to babble).
Presently, music could be heard from within Kentarre's canopy bed. All activity in the room came to a halt. From the sound of it, it was fast and had a rhythmic beat, much like that which could be heard from headphones that someone else is listening to. Hermione bravely approached Kentarre's bed. "Umm... Kentarre?" she said tentatively. No answer. She tried again. "What is that?"
"What is what?" came the curt reply.
"That music. What is it?"
"It's just what you said it is. Music."
"But, how are you listening to music? All electronic devices won't work if tried on Hogwarts campus."
"Is that so? Thank you for sharing that, I'll be sure to note that in my log."
"You didn't answer my question. How are you listening to that?"
The curtains parted just a sliver. "Who said I was using electronics?" Kentarre pointed out, a bit rudely.
Hermione flushed. "Well, it sounded as though you were using headphones."
"That's right."
Hermione paused, puzzled. "What?"
"I am using headphones... well, sort of. Would you like me to show you so that we can both get some sleep?"
Hermione nodded, and Kentarre opened the curtains a little wider. "See?" she said gruffly. She held out a pair of ordinary-looking headphones that were connected to- a ball of light? Hermione looked closer. The wire leading from the headphones disappeared right into the center of a glowing ball of light. "I modified it myself. The headphones are powered by magic. It's a little spell I sort of... concocted," Kentarre noted, hoping this would satisfy her. *Geez,* Kentarre thought, *what does she think I am, a people person??*
Hermione, after getting a good look- or two- at the ball, looked at Kentarre and asked, "So, what are you listening to?" Kentarre said shortly, "My favorite radio station. Right now it's in commercial break. You should go to bed. First day of term tomorrow." Hermione nodded, and then seemed to remember something. "Oh, by the way, did you ever find out what year you're in?"
"It's going to be decided tomorrow."
"How?"
"I'll be tested."
"Oh. Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow!"
"Whatever. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
When Hermione had gone back to her own bed, Kentarre pulled the curtain sharply back into place. *Nosy people irritate me,* she fumed. Replacing the headphones, she activated the song that had been playing. Its familiar melody seemed to echo on and on, singing to her the very truth she had known for every waking moment of every day. Involuntarily, she found her mind singing along with it, wanting to embrace what she had so long rejected and hated.
And then it was over. Kentarre removed the headphones and dissipated the ball of light. The end of the headphone wire fell to the bed with a muffled thud. Kentarre noticed that, though the lights were out, conversation still seemed to be going on. Whispered giggles and hushed gossiping could be heard going back and forth between the beds. Kentarre growled irritably to herself. *Geez, will this never end??* she wondered exasperatedly. Kentarre lay down and faced the left side of the bed, which was near the window. She could see that there was another part in the curtains on this side of the bed. Rising, she shoved it apart and found herself bathed in white light. The moon, a waxing gibbous, soothed her and calmed the tempest raging inside; the urge to throttle something had nearly disappeared now. She placed her feet on the hard, cold stone floor and walked to the window to look out. She saw that she was up in a tower, and that the view was unlike any other. The lake perfectly mirrored the moon, and the forest had been suddenly turned milky white. She opened the window to let some air in, which was chilly and clear. Leaning farther out, she could see other parts of the roof of the castle, which had been painted silver.
The cry of a bird could be heard from somewhere nearby, and presently Kentarre could see Nemesis gliding toward her in the moonlight. His wings and body were also shaded by the moon's effect. He landed on the windowsill and chirped once. "Hello, Nemesis," she replied to his greeting. He jumped up to her shoulder and nudged her in a gesture which she took as affectionate. "You know," she thought aloud to the bird (but not too loud), "you and I are pretty well matched, neh?" Another nuzzle. She smiled. "Well," she murmured, "I'd better get to bed. I want to be ready for my 'test' tomorrow." Nemesis watched her sarcastic expression slowly fade from her face with one of sympathetic understanding on his. She looked at his features and laughed. "You can't stand them either, can you?" she asked. He plucked at his feathers in distaste. "I agree," she intoned. After a pause, Kentarre suggested that she say goodnight, and that he do the same. "I understand there is an Owlery. I want you to stay there tonight. Tomorrow you can go anywhere you want to, but you must understand that you can't come and see me in class, and especially not during the test." He gave her a look that said, "I know that already." She smiled. "Goodnight, Nemesis." He nipped her finger and took off once more. Watching him go, she smiled in spite of herself. *Well done, Kentarre. You made a good choice when you chose him.* But, she contradicted herself, she didn't really choose him; rather, vice versa.
Kentarre slowly headed back to her bed, her footsteps completely inaudible. The bed was soft, and the pillow was deep. She had no trouble falling asleep, covered only by her cloak, which she had placed on the bed after removing it. Her slumber was uninterrupted and complete; nothing would wake her until the morn.
And so concludes the second chapter of my story. I hope you find this one slightly more interesting than the last one! There will be more in the third chapter, "Rivals." I hope you will keep reading! Thank you!!