Chapter 2: The Mysterious Stranger
"Hermione?" Ron asked warily, his voice cracking. Harry saw the girl walking from the other side of the train station and silently mirrored Ron's reaction. She had slicked back her hair and was dressed stylishly in a pair of dark-denim jeans and a mauve three-quarter sleeved side-tie blouse. Her small heels accented the curves of her legs and he had to stop his jaw from dropping. However, Ron did not exercise such control.
"I was waving, you guys. Why didn't you wave back?" Hermione asked once she reached them.
"I didn't recognize you," Harry replied. "Why are you so dressed up?"
"I just got off the train from… up North. I was just- Ron, what's wrong with you?"
He finally closed his mouth. "Catching my breath. How was your trip?"
"Oh, just fine. I'm not looking forward to spending any more time on a train. Where's the rest of your family?" She looked around, hoping to spot the redheads.
"Oh, well, my dad's at work, but my mom took Ginny to get a soda."
"Darn. I wanted to say 'hi,' but we need to get going."
Harry nodded. "Yeah, the train's about to leave. Ginny had better hurry."
As the walked toward the train, Ron grabbed one of Hermione's many matching suitcases. "Sit by me on the train?"
***
They arrived at Hogwarts late that afternoon, with a crimson sun sliding below the horizon. Hermione was strangely quiet and refused to talk about her trip up North. Still, in all the ride was uneventful; even Malfoy and his goons had not paid the compartment their yearly visit.
After exchanging hellos with Hagrid, the first years separated and the other students filed along the road, where they met their rides. Once again, Harry found the thestrals pulling the carriages disturbing, but drew comfort from the fact that now all his friends could see them as well. They rode to the castle, then filed in through the great stone doorway of the gigantic school.
Harry joined the other students sitting in the Great Hall, talking loudly to friends they had not seen in months. Constantly people were reaching over the table to give high-fives, hugs, and even the occasional pecks, although both involved looked around nervously for any spying staff. Hermione was currently leaning over Luna Lovegood's seated figure at the Ravenclaw table, having as private a conversation as one could in a room filled with people.
Fellow Gryffindors constantly came over to share summer stories of varying degrees of interest. However, Harry was surprised by the amount of other students that nervously approached him. "So Harry, we haven't talked in awhile. Remember that one time in Herbology when Neville was bitten by the Mulungus green beans?! ….No? Oh…so… how did your summer go?" Everyone was aware of what happened at the Ministry of Magic last June after the article in the Daily Prophet, and wanted to know more that fateful night. However, most were too afraid or nervous to ask Harry directly, and his other housemates were too respectful to do so. He appreciated not having to relive that night, but he hoped Dumbledore would allay the other's fears so that he could avoid the uncomfortable encounters with (almost) complete strangers.
A hush came over the room as Dumbledore and the rest of the professors filed in behind the head table and took their seats. Students scrambled to join their fellow houses, but the headmaster finished his conversation with Professor Sprout before he stood to speak. "Welcome to yet another year here at Hogwarts. I'm glad to see so many faces ready to experience academic catharsis. I have many announcements to make, but it is important that the first years are present to hear them. Also, since classes start tomorrow, I'm hoping we could finish this feast today. Therefore, let the Sorting Ceremony begin."
The massive doors in the back of the hall creaked open on ancient hinges. The students that began filing into the room reminded Harry of toddlers. He frustrated himself trying to remember what he looked like at that age. "What's going on?" a blonde-tufted boy nervously asked the student in front of him. Harry reflected on the confusion and fear he had felt on his Sorting Day and the frivolity of it all was obvious after recent events.
Professor McGonagall, who had been herding the gawking first years into the large room, pushed past them and placed a dilapidated hat on a stool at the front of the hall. Too busy staring at the charmed ceiling, floating candelabras, and the other students, the youngsters did not notice the headpiece until a seam near the rim split, a ragged mouth, and burst into song.
"Eons before this Sorting Hat was made
Four wizards created an accolade
Dedicated to teaching magical arts,
The wizards contributed their separate parts
Each wanted students to work as a whole,
But they divided, did not reach their goal
To prepare Wizards (and witches as well)
To reflect and fight one terrible spell.
A war is coming, a force grows stronger,
But to practice we have a little longer.
That is why we must each join together,
All the Hogwarts houses, for the better.
For the Hufflepuff house, though kind and loyal,
Cannot survive without Slytherin, its cunning foil.
And while Gryffindor has bravery abound,
Ravenclaw keeps the Lion thinking sound.
Everyone must choose where they want to be,
And their destined house I will help them see,
So once you listen to my yearly song,
The Sorting Hat tells you where you belong!
But be warned: Divided is torn."
"At least it was short this year," Ron muttered, barely audible under the echoing applause.
"Anderson, Jackie," announced McGonagall. A vivacious redhead walked up and sat on the stool. Many of the students were whispering between the tables. Like everyone who'd been paying attention, they were worried and confused about the last line: "Divided is torn." The Sorting Hat had passed on a similar wisdom last year, so to hear it yet again was both comforting and disconcerting. It meant that, as of yet, last year's advice had heeded no ill will, but it also meant that what triggered the warning had not yet happened.
Hermione frowned at Ron across the table. "I happen to like the Sorting Hat's songs: they're very creative."
"You'd be creative too, if all year long all you did was loaf around and write songs."
"Why must you always be so pessimistic?"
"Why are you always so upbeat, Miss Sunshine?" Harry ignored his bickering friends and their love/hate relationship. 'Gee, I wonder who won't be on speaking terms for a month,' he sarcastically thought to himself. However, the argument did not escalate, and the two were fine by the time McGonagall called, "Yeager, Eric."
The hat, back on the stool, became inanimate once again. Eric filled the last open spot at the Hufflepuff table and the ceremony's noise was replaced by the groaning of the old tables as huge plates of mashed peas, shepherd's pie, blood sausage, turkey and gravy, stewed carrots, and fried fish suddenly appeared. The smells wafting from the food turned Harry's already queasy stomach.
He instead studied the head table and was surprised to see that Hagrid's chair was empty. "Did either of you see where Hagrid went off to?"
"Whu' are uo' alkin' abou?" Ron mumbled through a mouthful of mashed peas.
"Well, Hagrid was here earlier: he said hi when I was outside. But now he's not. Do you think something's happened?"
"Well, if he was here earlier," deduced Hermione, "then he's obviously not on some secret mission." The mention of a secret mission did not start Harry's memories of Hagrid's absence last year, but rather the events deep within the bowels of the Ministry. "He's probably just taking care of Fang or talking to Filch." As she caught sight of Harry's plate, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. "Harry, I know you're upset, but that doesn't mean you should stop eating."
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I had a lot on the train, I'm not really hungry."
"No you didn't," Ron retorted. "All you got was a chocolate frog. Although you did eat half my bag of Every Flavor Beans, you git."
Hermione placed her soft hand on his. "Your unhappiness won't bring Sirius back. If he was here, he would say the same."
He choked back his tears and managed to glare at his friend. "I suppose you expect me to match Ron bite for bite?"
"Hey!" Ron exclaimed, revealing his chewed-up sausage. Hermione grimaced.
The conversation ended, but Harry was sure to grab a bowl of spotted dick when dessert appeared. He had to admit, the spicy pudding warmed and comforted him. As he finished, Seamus Finnegan turned to them and asked, "Oy, you three see the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" They all turned to study the slight Asian man talking to Professor McGonagall . "I hear he's really a secret ninja, here from Japan!"
"Get off it, Seamus." Hermione rolled her eyes. "You've been watching too much tele."
Dumbledore, who had been surveying the room to ensure the meal had been finished, stood and cleared his throat. "I'd like to start by complementing the chefs. The forest on grounds is, as usual, off limits to all students, even those who have ventured there before." (Harry thought he saw the wizened man wink at him.)
"Isn't that why they call it the Forbidden Forest?" Dean Thomas whispered sarcastically, and all that heard him snickered.
"Also, Filch demands that no magic is performed in the hall, and that each students stops by his office to see the list of forbidden items," he paused, then added, "which has finally grown considerably longer than my beard. Tryouts for the Quidditch House teams will be posted in your common rooms" (Harry was sure he winked at him this time) "and Jessica Feltty, your mother's owl dropped off your suitcase, which you forgot, so please claim that from Filch at the end of the ceremony.
"We have a new teacher with us this year: Professor Kenchi." The small man, dressed in rich chocolate robes stood and gave a slight bow to the audience. "Kenchi will be teaching the Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. I'm hoping it will be a unique and mind-opening experience.
"But on to far more important matters." At this a grave shadow covered the headmaster's face and Harry realized how old he truly was. "I'm sure all of you have heard that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has indeed returned. I have received many letters from your parents expressing concern for your safety here at Hogwarts. I assure you, as long as you act responsibly, you are safe from his threats. There may be a need to enact stringent rules foreign to Hogwarts, but keep in mind: these are for you and your fellow students' safety. This school is well guarded, both by spells and by wizards and witches. I can promise, as long as you are on this property, he will not harm a single one of you." Silence filled the room, as all wide-eyed faces stared at Dumbledore. "Well, what are you waiting for? Don't stare at me all night, get to your houses."
The crowd began to move toward the door, but through the ruckus Harry saw Dumbledore rushing to the hallway, slipping between groups of students. "Where's he going in such a hurry?" he wondered aloud.
Hermione was quickly at his side. "Who's going where?"
"Dumbledore. Didn't you see him practically run out of here?"
She looked back and forth down the stone corridor. "I don't see him now. Which way did he go?"
"That way, I'm pretty sure. Think we should follow?"
"I have to take the first years up to the tower, remember? Besides, it's a little early to get ourselves in trouble." She smiled slyly. "We should wait until at least October."
Harry sighed. "I'll meet you up in the common room and fill you in. Tell Ron to wait up for me too."
Hermione shook her head, but turned to shoo the younger students up the stairs. Before out of sight, she quickly shouted back to him, "The new password is slimy limey!"
He moved quickly down the hall, but was sure to keep his steps light and quiet. Without his invisibility cloak, Harry was vulnerable to detection by any of the teachers, or worse, Filch. He wasn't sure why he was following the headmaster: perhaps the other students were right about his need to play the hero. However, he felt justified in his actions, after hearing the prophecy. Any information that would help him in his fight against Voldemort was increasingly important.
As Harry entered the damp, black dungeon, he pulled his wand from his robe's waist and whispered, 'lumos.' Instantly light emitted from his wand, chasing the shadows to the corners of the passageway. He heard footsteps ahead of him and knew he was on the right track. He hurried past Snape's classroom and was startled to realize he was an in unfamiliar area of the castle. While Hogwart's was indeed huge, the largest structure for miles, after six years, Harry thought he knew every cranny of the school, especially since he spent so much time exploring after hours.
At a junction in the hall, he stopped and listened for the echoing sounds of Dumbledore's shuffling shoes. After a couple more turns, the corridor opened into a spacious hall lined with pillars. The ceiling was low and lit with what looked to be glowworms or fireflies. It twinkled with an odd blue radiance. He could see through the dimness the harbor he once came to as a first year and the headmaster kneeling at the water's edge. A rowboat pulled up next to the stone ledge and Harry, from his hiding spot near the back of the hall, could barely make out its passengers.
Hagrid's silhouette was unmistakable, but the smaller, cloaked figure… Harry guessed that, from the person's size and shape she must be a woman, but a white hooded cloak covered her hair and face. Dumbledore gracefully took her hand and helped her from the boat. "Was your travel all right?" he asked, smiling at the girl.
"Yes, yes, it was fine." Harry realized the she had a strange accent, probably American. "Hagrid made a wonderful companion. I've never flown by broom before, so it was wonderful to have someone so experienced." Hagrid blushed at this complement, certainly considering how little broom practice he had after his expulsion.
"If yer ever needin' anythin' else, just let ol' Hagrid know." He bowed, then grabbed the ledge as the boat began to tip under his immense weight. The girl turned and laughed, not maliciously, but in a way that brought smiles to the faces of all who heard it, and as she did, her hood slipped off.
Harry could not stop his sharp intake of breath and was relieved when no one seemed to notice the sound. The girl's wavy, light blond locks framed her face, rounding her cheeks and leaving an almost cherubic sense about her. Her heart-shaped lips were dark and bee-stung, and led to immoral thoughts of his lips meeting hers, sucking on her soft mouth. He shook his head, embarrassed by his reaction.
Her skin was pale, but it matched the sense of fragility she radiated. But what shocked Harry the most were her eyes. They were a deep violet, a color that Harry had only seen once before. He could not remember why they looked so familiar, but the vague memory felt wrong, leaving a crawling sensation down his spine. With further inspection, he could see that her gaze held none of the negativity of his immediate reaction, but he could not understand this similarity. Nor why he could not look away from her startlingly beautiful visage.
"I assume that I will be joining Sever- I mean, Professor Snape in the Slytherin House?" she asked Dumbledore, grinning sweetly. She looked away to wave goodbye to Hagrid, then returned her attention to the older man, careful not to break eye contact. Harry only wished she would look at him like that.
"Actually, I thought I'd let an outside party decide," he answered, producing the Sorting Hat from within his generous, flowing robes. He smoothed her hair down to allow room for the musty headpiece, but as he did so, one of the large silver bangles that adorned the mysterious girl's head fell to the floor and rolled across the rough stones, stopping mere feet from Harry's darkened alcove. His heart jumped within his chest, then stopped altogether. 'They're going to see me, they'regoingtoseeme, ohgodthey'regoingtofindmeandDumbledore
willneverforgiveme…' Blood rushed to his ears and the drowned out the headmaster's and girl's hushed words.
"I'll get that for you, my dear."
"Don't bother, I'll grab it." Her white cloak barely rustled as she walked silently toward the dropped accessory. Harry's rushing mind stopped to ponder the fact that the bangle had been the loudest sound the girl had made so far. As she bent to pick it up, her eyes caught the wingtips of his scuffed dress shoes. White appeared around her violet irises as her eyes grew wide. She followed his form to see his shocked, terrified face. 'Will she tell Dumbledore?' No movement. No breath. No heartbeat. The air stood still as she simply stared openmouthed at the discovered boy.
"Are you all right?" the headmaster called. The spell was broken and she quickly averted her eyes from Harry's.
"Yes, just admiring the architecture of this school. It looks terribly, wonderfully old. How do you keep it in such good condition?" She walked back towards the wharf, but motioned behind her back towards the door. Her message to Harry was clear: 'LEAVE.' As soon as Dumbledore's attention was turned back to the mysterious stranger, Harry fled back down the hallway. His last sight was the Sorting Hat again placed on her head.
By the time he was done running, he was far out of earshot, and certainly out of breath. As he leaned against the cold granite wall, he deliberated what he just saw. 'Who is she? Why didn't she arrive with the other first years? She's certainly too old to be a first year. Why does she have such familiar eyes? Why do I feel so strange?' The last question bothered Harry the most. Despite all the trouble he would cause, he was desperate to catch another glimpse of this late-night visitor. Stranger, he wanted nothing more than to lock eyes with her again, to pit amethyst against emerald and see who would blink first. 'You need a challenge, Harry:' Ron's words echoed in his head. That girl would be quite a challenge, all right. Her very identity was a puzzle. He sighed and began walking quickly down the corridor, careful to use 'lumos' only when it was desperately needed.
As Harry reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, one last question crossed his mind. 'What do I tell Ron and Hermione?' However, he had already spoken the new password, revealing his two best friends waiting in the common room, eager to hear his adventures.
OKAY, now it's time for the reader's opinion. Should I even continue the fic? Are you interested? Also, anything that doesn't fit, anything I should address, etc? Please give me a review!