Jillian sullenly opened her eyes to the morning sunlight streaming
through the window closest to her four poster bed. She had left the
draperies surrounding her mattress open a little too much, letting the
light fall right on her pillow and directly in her clear blue eyes. She
grunted and rolled over, trying to go back to the comfort of sleep again.
Mornings were never her thing. She opened her eyes again to look around,
and was momentarily frightened, wondering where she was. The scarlet
draperies hanging around her bed were unfamiliar. She then remembered that
she was at Hogwarts, in the girls' dormitory of Gryffindor Tower. She
calmed down, realizing that she hadn't been kidnapped in her in her sleep
or something equally crazy like that. Then the events of the past few
weeks came rushing back to her, which drained every ounce of comfort she
had gained in the past minute. She blocked this from her mind, as she had
become accustomed to doing, and focused instead on the insides of her
eyelids. This, however, just made her wide awake. Nevertheless, she tried
even harder to fall asleep. Just when she felt she was almost out, the
girls with whom she shared her dormitory with started to talk and giggle.
Jill groaned loudly and sat up in her bed.
"It's too early for this," she mumbled, and fumbled around for her wand. She felt around for it on her bedside table, and finally found it next to her watch. She picked it up, ready to perform a silencing charm, but the girls had already left. Gratefully, Jill dropped her wand on the ground and rolled back over, her arm hanging over the side of the bed. But of course, she couldn't get to sleep still. Images started popping into her head, making it impossible to relax. She went over the events of last night, in the Headmaster's office.
She had arrived in Professor Dumbledore's office relatively late in the evening. She had met with Professor McGonagall, who seemed pretty stiff. She made a mental note to never cross that woman. Dumbledore seemed like an interesting man, to say the least. His office was huge, and the walls were covered with portraits of old witches and wizards, trying (and failing) to act convincingly as if asleep. First she was led over to a stool, and McGonagall took an ancient-looking ratty hat down from the top of a bookshelf. When she put on the hat, it spoke to her, which was slightly unnerving (As she had never had a conversation of any kind with an accessory), and it told her that she would do well in Gryffindor, as it yelled this across the room. As it turned out, McGonagall was her head of house. Dumbledore asked for a moment, and Jill was left in the room alone, save for this old man peering at her over half-moon spectacles from across his desk. "I'm sure you are familiar with the story of Harry Potter by now, am I correct?" he asked softly. "Uhm, yes I am, sir," Jill replied curiously. "And am I correct in saying that you are aware that he attends this school?" he said, gazing at her intensely. "Er...yes sir, you are," she said, her curiosity growing. At this, Dumbledore stood and strode over to a perch, where a beautiful golden bird was sitting. "I believe that it would do you both good to become acquainted," he said while stroking the phoenix's feathers. "You have more in common than you may realize."
Jill sat staring at the man. He was basically telling her to become friends with Harry Potter. She was dumbfounded. "Uh, sir, may I ask why?"
He took the moment to look at her again with his piercingly blue eyes. "Well, I trust that you two would be able to confide in each other about events and feelings that others may not understand." He walked to the door, leaving Jill staring at her hands in her lap. She knew what he was hinting at. Harry Potter's parents had been killed by Voldemort fifteen years ago. Jillian's parents had been murdered by the same man not even a week before. Her parents had decided to join the Order of the Phoenix after watching one too many friends killed during his first time in power, and took their positions once again as they saw the rest of them ignoring the signs that he was back again. After finding that he had returned, they didn't want to put their families and friends in danger a second time, and decided to help the forces against He Who Must Not Be Named. They remained undercover, and searched for him personally. At one point they got very close to where he was hiding, and intended to inform the Order. However, it was too close for Voldemort who found this out, and sent out a man to find them. The Dark Lord himself broke into their house one night during a meeting of their fellow undercover Order members. Thankfully, including her parents, there were only four present, but none survived. Jill had been on her way downstairs when he attacked, and saw the whole event. Upon seeing the robed figure standing in her home, and hearing his chilling voice, she stopped in her tracks, shocked. Her parents saw her on the stairs, and ran in front of Voldemort to distract him from the figure on the landing behind them who was too scared to move an inch. All she remembers after that point was seeing his horrible red snakelike eyes narrow, hearing his bloodcurdling laughter, and watching as the room filled with a bright green light. A second later, her parents were on the ground, their unmoving eyes staring blankly into space. They had saved her life. They had given their lives for her. She stood motionless on the stairs, too terrified to make a sound. Against her will, her leg slipped and caused the stair to creak. To her horror, Voldemort straightened, turned around, and his ruby eyes met with hers. He grinned, and was in the process of raising his wand when a man rushed in through the kitchen door. He bowed his head towards Voldemort, and then hurriedly whispered something to him, twitching the whole time. The man reminded Jillian vaguely of an oversized rat. Jill took this moment to run up the stairs and hide in the closest room, and found herself ducking behind her parents' bed. Apparently what this man had to say was more important that the murder of one more person, because Voldemort never came to find her. A moment later, she heard the door shut, his horrid laughter sending chills up her spine. Jill slowly crept out of the room and back onto the stairs, and stared at the lifeless bodies lying before her, their eyes glazed over, helpless. It was ten minutes later when the rest of the Order slammed open the door, wands raised, charging into the kitchen. A moment later they stopped in their tracks, dropping their wands and staring at the remains of their friends lying dead on the gleaming linoleum. The few females gasped, and many of the rest bowed their heads. One man pushed through to the front, his long silver beard shining in the moonlight streaming through the small window. He took in the sight for a moment before bowing his head also, and saying only, "May they rest well." They all stood for a few moments, seemingly still trying to accept the fact, until they heard a small whimper coming from behind them. The Order turned to the stairwell, to see the crumpled form of Jillian sobbing quietly on the top stair, her tearstained face fixed on the bodies of her parents.
Jill sat bolt upright in her bed, cold sweat dripping streaming down colorless skin. After taking a moment to catch her breath, she sank back onto her pillow, still breathing heavily. She hadn't realized it, but she had fallen back to sleep. Now, sleeping was the last thing she wanted to do, and she settled for clutching her pillow and staring at the crimson fabric hanging around her like a cloth cage. After a minute or two, she finally pulled back the drapes to reveal an empty dormitory. She picked up her wand and waved it warily in the direction of her bed, hearing the sheets and blankets being carefully folded as a result of the charm she had used. She walked past her end table to the small window beside her bed, and looked out at the lake, while thoughts she would rather push to the back of her mind bombarded her. She watched a large snowy white owl fly over the lake gracefully, and she fell into a daydream for a moment.
Until she realized what the watch she passed a moment before had read.
"Shit," she muttered, as she realized that she had missed breakfast entirely and was already ten minutes late for her first class. She straightened up too fast and smacked her head against the stone above the window. "Shit!" she yelled again, and ran to find her robes.
She was still fumbling to button her shirt the correct way as she rushed from the Gryffindor common room and out of the portrait hole when she realized she had totally forgotten her wand. She turned around and ran straight into the Fat Lady's painting.
"Excuse me, young lady! Watch where you're going!!"
"I'm sorry! Uhm....oh, damn, what was it..." It took a minute for her to simply remember the password. Once inside, she flew up the stairs to grab her wand, and then darted towards the Transfiguration classroom.
Once outside the enormous oak door, she stopped for a moment to catch her breath. After the feeling that her lungs were on fire had passed, she pushed open the door in front of her. Thirty heads whirled around to face her, and she felt that a spotlight had suddenly alighted on her face. She gulped, and then turned to Professor McGonagall, who was standing in front of a chalkboard. Words drawn in white chalk were silently appearing on its surface as McGonagall stood before it, looking quite flustered at the interruption. Jill snapped out of the daze she had been in watching the board, and gulped.
"Uhm...sorry I'm late," she mumbled.
And so began her first class at Hogwarts.
"It's too early for this," she mumbled, and fumbled around for her wand. She felt around for it on her bedside table, and finally found it next to her watch. She picked it up, ready to perform a silencing charm, but the girls had already left. Gratefully, Jill dropped her wand on the ground and rolled back over, her arm hanging over the side of the bed. But of course, she couldn't get to sleep still. Images started popping into her head, making it impossible to relax. She went over the events of last night, in the Headmaster's office.
She had arrived in Professor Dumbledore's office relatively late in the evening. She had met with Professor McGonagall, who seemed pretty stiff. She made a mental note to never cross that woman. Dumbledore seemed like an interesting man, to say the least. His office was huge, and the walls were covered with portraits of old witches and wizards, trying (and failing) to act convincingly as if asleep. First she was led over to a stool, and McGonagall took an ancient-looking ratty hat down from the top of a bookshelf. When she put on the hat, it spoke to her, which was slightly unnerving (As she had never had a conversation of any kind with an accessory), and it told her that she would do well in Gryffindor, as it yelled this across the room. As it turned out, McGonagall was her head of house. Dumbledore asked for a moment, and Jill was left in the room alone, save for this old man peering at her over half-moon spectacles from across his desk. "I'm sure you are familiar with the story of Harry Potter by now, am I correct?" he asked softly. "Uhm, yes I am, sir," Jill replied curiously. "And am I correct in saying that you are aware that he attends this school?" he said, gazing at her intensely. "Er...yes sir, you are," she said, her curiosity growing. At this, Dumbledore stood and strode over to a perch, where a beautiful golden bird was sitting. "I believe that it would do you both good to become acquainted," he said while stroking the phoenix's feathers. "You have more in common than you may realize."
Jill sat staring at the man. He was basically telling her to become friends with Harry Potter. She was dumbfounded. "Uh, sir, may I ask why?"
He took the moment to look at her again with his piercingly blue eyes. "Well, I trust that you two would be able to confide in each other about events and feelings that others may not understand." He walked to the door, leaving Jill staring at her hands in her lap. She knew what he was hinting at. Harry Potter's parents had been killed by Voldemort fifteen years ago. Jillian's parents had been murdered by the same man not even a week before. Her parents had decided to join the Order of the Phoenix after watching one too many friends killed during his first time in power, and took their positions once again as they saw the rest of them ignoring the signs that he was back again. After finding that he had returned, they didn't want to put their families and friends in danger a second time, and decided to help the forces against He Who Must Not Be Named. They remained undercover, and searched for him personally. At one point they got very close to where he was hiding, and intended to inform the Order. However, it was too close for Voldemort who found this out, and sent out a man to find them. The Dark Lord himself broke into their house one night during a meeting of their fellow undercover Order members. Thankfully, including her parents, there were only four present, but none survived. Jill had been on her way downstairs when he attacked, and saw the whole event. Upon seeing the robed figure standing in her home, and hearing his chilling voice, she stopped in her tracks, shocked. Her parents saw her on the stairs, and ran in front of Voldemort to distract him from the figure on the landing behind them who was too scared to move an inch. All she remembers after that point was seeing his horrible red snakelike eyes narrow, hearing his bloodcurdling laughter, and watching as the room filled with a bright green light. A second later, her parents were on the ground, their unmoving eyes staring blankly into space. They had saved her life. They had given their lives for her. She stood motionless on the stairs, too terrified to make a sound. Against her will, her leg slipped and caused the stair to creak. To her horror, Voldemort straightened, turned around, and his ruby eyes met with hers. He grinned, and was in the process of raising his wand when a man rushed in through the kitchen door. He bowed his head towards Voldemort, and then hurriedly whispered something to him, twitching the whole time. The man reminded Jillian vaguely of an oversized rat. Jill took this moment to run up the stairs and hide in the closest room, and found herself ducking behind her parents' bed. Apparently what this man had to say was more important that the murder of one more person, because Voldemort never came to find her. A moment later, she heard the door shut, his horrid laughter sending chills up her spine. Jill slowly crept out of the room and back onto the stairs, and stared at the lifeless bodies lying before her, their eyes glazed over, helpless. It was ten minutes later when the rest of the Order slammed open the door, wands raised, charging into the kitchen. A moment later they stopped in their tracks, dropping their wands and staring at the remains of their friends lying dead on the gleaming linoleum. The few females gasped, and many of the rest bowed their heads. One man pushed through to the front, his long silver beard shining in the moonlight streaming through the small window. He took in the sight for a moment before bowing his head also, and saying only, "May they rest well." They all stood for a few moments, seemingly still trying to accept the fact, until they heard a small whimper coming from behind them. The Order turned to the stairwell, to see the crumpled form of Jillian sobbing quietly on the top stair, her tearstained face fixed on the bodies of her parents.
Jill sat bolt upright in her bed, cold sweat dripping streaming down colorless skin. After taking a moment to catch her breath, she sank back onto her pillow, still breathing heavily. She hadn't realized it, but she had fallen back to sleep. Now, sleeping was the last thing she wanted to do, and she settled for clutching her pillow and staring at the crimson fabric hanging around her like a cloth cage. After a minute or two, she finally pulled back the drapes to reveal an empty dormitory. She picked up her wand and waved it warily in the direction of her bed, hearing the sheets and blankets being carefully folded as a result of the charm she had used. She walked past her end table to the small window beside her bed, and looked out at the lake, while thoughts she would rather push to the back of her mind bombarded her. She watched a large snowy white owl fly over the lake gracefully, and she fell into a daydream for a moment.
Until she realized what the watch she passed a moment before had read.
"Shit," she muttered, as she realized that she had missed breakfast entirely and was already ten minutes late for her first class. She straightened up too fast and smacked her head against the stone above the window. "Shit!" she yelled again, and ran to find her robes.
She was still fumbling to button her shirt the correct way as she rushed from the Gryffindor common room and out of the portrait hole when she realized she had totally forgotten her wand. She turned around and ran straight into the Fat Lady's painting.
"Excuse me, young lady! Watch where you're going!!"
"I'm sorry! Uhm....oh, damn, what was it..." It took a minute for her to simply remember the password. Once inside, she flew up the stairs to grab her wand, and then darted towards the Transfiguration classroom.
Once outside the enormous oak door, she stopped for a moment to catch her breath. After the feeling that her lungs were on fire had passed, she pushed open the door in front of her. Thirty heads whirled around to face her, and she felt that a spotlight had suddenly alighted on her face. She gulped, and then turned to Professor McGonagall, who was standing in front of a chalkboard. Words drawn in white chalk were silently appearing on its surface as McGonagall stood before it, looking quite flustered at the interruption. Jill snapped out of the daze she had been in watching the board, and gulped.
"Uhm...sorry I'm late," she mumbled.
And so began her first class at Hogwarts.