The Seer Fails
There is a world unknown to us, but known to many. It was in this world that a very peculiar little thing – a baby girl – was born, to a family full of witches and wizards, nonetheless. This family was known as the Nobilis, the oldest wizarding family in all of history, dating back to the reign of King Nebuchadnezzar of ancient Babylonia. They prided themselves in having the purest bloodline and the most exceptional magical abilities: each Nobilis possessed unique magical talents, all different and extremely rare amongst each member. Now whenever a new member of the Nobilis family was born, a seer would be consulted; and with this baby girl, it was no different. However, the soothsayer could not understand the visions that he saw that night and remained perplexed for years over the powers he foresaw in the girl. In an effort to conceal his failure, he informed the parents that their child was indeed a squib, lacking in all magical powers whatsoever. It was inevitable that this shocked them as there had not been a squib in all the generations of the Nobilis, not even a witch or wizard with less than immense magical power. However, out of pity for the girl and the want to justify his own conscience, the seer left her with the one thing that he did understand from his visions: the name Airlia. And so, Airlia was born, the youngest and last member of the Nobilis.
When Airlia had reached the age of one, she began to possess strange qualities. Glowing white hair varying between gold and silver tones began growing from her head and her skin hardly held any pigment but a rosy pale. At times, when she stayed completely still, people would pass right by without noticing her, resulting in hours of stress for her parents when they tried to find her. In spite of all these peculiarities, the strangest yet were her eyes. They were a pair of burning amethysts that possessed a haunting awareness, a wakefulness that would come to torment her for years. Strangers found her a frightening child and began to avoid the Nobilis as they found that all their deepest secrets were revealed to her. Eventually, even Airlia's own parents felt exposed and uncomfortable around her and at the age of four, they decided to give her away. After months of searching for the perfect family, they found a childless Muggle family, on whom they cast a spell, making them believe that Airlia was indeed their daughter and had been all along.
Nevertheless, Airlia grew up to be a quiet and unassuming child, having very few people who dared to talk to her and even fewer who would befriend her. This did not seem to bother her – she accepted it and took to observing people and their experiences. Her Muggle parents, Adrian and Beverly Mills, loved her unconditionally and brought her up to be a decent, moral person, regardless of the enigmatic traits she bore. Upon turning seventeen, Airlia decided to leave home and travel to Austria in search of the arts and something beyond physical attributes. What she came upon was the world of Beethoven, Goya, and scientific fascination. Years passed by and her hours were spent in conversation and debate with the greatest thinkers of the time, allowing her to absorb and learn the secrets of the most brilliant minds. However, she began to find life strange when she did not age, and even stranger yet when generations passed by her and she was eluded by death. It seemed that time had stood still for her at the age of twenty-four and resolved to remain in that youthful stage for all of eternity. Thus, she lived and watched as both Muggle and Magical worlds evolved, until one day, the period between mirth and strife ended, and it became evident to her that the time of peace and restfulness for both worlds had come to an end.
The Kings Cross Station seemed to have transformed into a beehive overnight. There was a low sort of hum in the air, one that only materializes in the busiest of situations. And today was the busiest of situations. Children had been scurrying through Platform Nine and Three Quarters since morning, and it seemed to Harry that they were always the last ones there. He and Ron had just barely been able to stuff down a couple of marmalade toasts before they were hauled off to Kings Cross Station where Hermione was waiting impatiently for them. "Really," she huffed, "If you two ever got anywhere on time, we would have to cancel the school year because everyone would have to recover from shock."
Harry grinned widely and said, "It's good to see you too, 'Mione."
"Say, Harry," Ron mumbled, "You wouldn't happen to have brought any of that toast with you, would you? I'm starving!"
Just then, Ginny squeezed up between them, saying, "Here, Mom packed these for us."
Looking in the bags, Ron made a face and groaned. "Not ham sandwiches again."
"I guess you're not that hungry, then," Hermione commented.
By then, Harry had already tuned out his two bickering friends, and by doing so, he noticed the slightest shadow moving along the wall. He squinted, craning his neck forward so he could see clearer. It was indeed a person, but he could barely make out the figure. The person seemed to be wearing a long black cloak with a hood drawn low over their head as if to hide something. "Hey guys," Harry said, interrupting his friends, "Who's that?"
They all looked to where Harry was discreetly pointing and strained their eyes to focus on the figure. As the person got closer, Hermione pointed out, "It seems he's wearing sunglasses, or shades of some sort, though they're very peculiar – they don't give off any reflection whatsoever."
"I don't know," the redhead wizard whispered, "He kind of gives me the creeps. Look at how pale he is." They all peered and sure enough, the patch of chin that peeked from beneath the hood was as white as cotton.
"What're you all standing there gaping at? Have the Gryffindors all gone cross-eyed?"
The group turned around to see a sneering, tall blonde scowling at them. Draco Malfoy. "None of your business, Malfoy. Why don't you go find your cronies? I'm sure they miss you already," Harry growled through his teeth.
"Jumpy, are we?" Draco retorted, "Well, well, what have we here?" He stared and examined the figure that was approaching and smirked. "I see they've finally hired a capable person to be our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I don't know why they hadn't thought of hiring a vampire before. Fancy I'll go introduce myself, Potter." The boy lurched his face menacingly at Harry before heading to the supposed vampire.
"You really think he's a vampire?" Ron asked, his eyes glued to the person in the black cloak.
They all watched closely and listened as Draco approached the person, holding out his hand. "Draco Malfoy," he stated with confidence, "I see they've finally hired someone competent for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. I've always been a supporter and enthusiast for vampires myself."
The person stopped for a moment and looked at Draco, contemplating the boy's manner. With a curious tilt of the head, the figure replied, "I am sorry to inform you that I am neither your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, nor am I a vampire. Although, I understand why you would believe them to be excellent teachers as they are most perceptive and patient." With that, the individual walked off, climbing onto the car at the end of the train.
"That he sounds like a she," the younger Weasley whispered, following the mysterious person with her eyes.
"Yeah, but no woman is that tall," Ron observed. They all peered into the last car. Indeed, the person was very tall, possibly reaching a height of six feet.
"Maybe she's an elf," Hermione whispered, "Elves are known for their height and are generally extremely pale."
"But what would an elf be doing at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, perplexed as anyone else.
The Great Hall was radiating with thousands of floating candles reflecting off the golden cups and plates. Everything looked perfectly spectacular for the start-of-term feast, but unfortunately, barely anyone noticed because all the students were too busy whispering and stealing peeks at the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The Sorting was commencing, but even the first years could not help but place their attention toward the new faculty member. He was a tall, slender man with short, tar-black hair and piercing blue eyes that sent chills down the spine if one was unfortunate enough to exchange glances with him. This teacher was strikingly handsome with the ravishing looks of a dark, mysterious duke or count, but possessed a rather unnerving calm about him. He sat beside Professor Snape, who was looking more the bit ugly with each passing moment. There was a sigh of excitement amongst the students when the Sorting finally finished as they were all looking forward to Dumbledore's introduction of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The old Headmaster stood up, and almost instantly, all the anticipation and excitement died away to tranquil warmth. He spread his arms as if to embrace the room, and said in a booming voice, "I have only a few words for you: soggy, whittle, and circumlocution." And with that, the feast began.
A groan nearly rose from the disappointed crowd; however, they were far too famished to bother with satisfying their curiosities. At the Gryffindor table, the Infamous Trio was busy discussing their summers and not before long, every student was stuffed and full. When it was clear that the last of the plates had been licked and polished, Headmaster Dumbledore rose to his feet and cleared his throat of chicken pot pie bits. "I see you have all thoroughly devoured your meals," he began with a beaming smile, "And now I must ask for your attention to a few more notices. As before, I would like to remind you that the forest is out-of-bounds to the students, as is the village of Hogsmeade for those below third year. At this moment, I would like to take the time to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Vladimir Cruoris. Professor Cruoris joins us from Romania, and I believe you will find him a most interesting teacher."
"Now," he continued with a twinkle in his eye, "There is another new person on our staff this year. Airlia Mills will be assisting Mr. Filch this year as the new caretaker. I request that you all show Miss Mills the same consideration that you show Mr. Filch." He directed the students' gazes toward the back where a tall hooded figure stood with pitch-black sunglasses over her eyes.
"It's the person from the train station!" Ron whispered rather loudly, causing her to glance toward the Gryffindor table.
"I guess she's a woman after all," Hermione concluded, looking carefully at the new caretaker, "Though I must say, she scares me more than Filch could ever hope to."