Disclaimer: see chapters one and two
Author: Lani
E-Mail: lanirhys@aol.com
Authors Notes: Is there something about this story that everybody hates :( lol.... ahh well i'm still gonna write it! so :P
Review Response:
Charlie: Harry get a pet snake? i'm not sure about the pet thing, but if you want i'll work a snake for Harry into it -it can kill him or something, lol -joking! but a snake friend for Harry. How's that? Yeah the Harry bit hasn't been very dramatic -but things are happening in it and he's learning things! honest! You like the Orion bit? Yay! Took me bloody ages to writePlease R/R! :)
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Chapter Three
Orion found herself on the floor, again, in front of a set of tall iron gates with the same crest wrought into it as there was printed on the parchment.
"Is this it?" she asked, looking around for a collection of buildings that were bound to be a school. "There's nothing here."
"Look over there, beyond the gates." He said, pointing to a point beyond a lake.
"That's a castle, Remus."
"That's Hogwarts." He replied in the same tone.
"It's a castle!" This was unbelievable! Schools were square with two or three floors, and demountables that needed demolishing but wouldn't be until new ones were bought or new buildings built; they weren't castles!
Remus placed a hand on the gates, which opened by themselves without a squeak,
"Yes, it's a castle. What were you expecting? A modern building full of, what do you call them? Computers?"
She didn't say anything. What had she been expecting at a school that taught magic?
"Are you coming?" During her thoughts, he had walked some way ahead.
"What are we doing next? Am I gonna learn magic?"
"In here," he gestured to a carriage, "Do you always ask so many questions?"
"Yes, it really annoys people; don't tell me you haven't noticed already? So…"
"So, first I'm taking you to see Professor Dumbledore, and then I don't know what's happening."
"What! Why?"
"Because I have somewhere else to be," at her startled look he continued, "don't worry, Orion, they won't bite you."
"So comforting." She groaned, staring out of the window at the scenery, then something struck her, "Where're the horses?"
"There aren't any horses, but they aren't enchanted either. Tell you what,"
"What?"
"If you can find out how these carriages move, tell Professor McGonagall,"
"Who?"
"You'll find out soon, now, am I allowed to finish?"
"Go ahead."
"If you do, tell Professor McGonagall and she'll contact me, then I'll send you a reward."
"Why?" she asked, intrigued. No one had ever said something like that, more likely: if you get the answer, you'll pass.
"Well, why not?"
"Good point."
Orion contented herself with silence for a minute, watching the window and lulling Remus into a false sense of security, and then she started again.
"What was Mr. Ollivander talking about in the shop? About me going into my Fifth Year?"
A pause, then, "I can't tell you because I don't know what's going on myself."
"Yeah but, what about the four years I missed?"
The carriage was slowing to a halt, effectively distracting her from Remus long enough for him to move and change the subject.
"Did you know this castle is enchanted?"
"Why am I not surprised?" she commented wryly as they climbed up the worn stone steps, "So, where're we going?"
"To see Professor Dumbledore, in fact," Remus looked at the battered watch on his wrist, "he's waiting in his office now, so would you like to stop gaping or be late?"
"Wha -oh." She's been standing, rooted to the spot, staring at everything in sight, "Professor Dumbledore… he's the headmaster of the school, right? The supreme mugwump?"
"Yes he is and yes he would be. Watch your step." One of the stairs he was leading her up disappeared, and was it her imagination, or were those paintings moving? She shook her head; she had to be loosing it.
Through corridors lined with flaming torches, past suits of squeaky armour and statues of witches and wizards they went, until stopping before a particularly gruesome looking gargoyle.
"Ice Mice."
At these words spoken by Remus, the statue came to life; it hopped to one side as the wall behind it, the actual wall, split into two, revealing a staircase spiralling upwards.
"Cool, these're kind of like escalators, but I guess their not?"
"Correct."
They stepped off the staircase to face yet another pair of wooden doors, these ones made of high-polished oak. Remus knocked twice and the doors opened.
"Hello Remus, did everything go all right?" An old man greeted as he got up from a large desk covered in odd things made of silver and gold, things that whirled and whizzed and clicked and ticked.
"Yes Professor, except for a minor disagreement with the Williams, everything went brilliantly." He gave her an encouraging smile, to which she raised her eyebrows, "Orion this is Professor Dumbledore. I hope to see you again one day." As he turned to leave, she caught up with the meaning of his words.
"You're leaving now?" she hissed, gaining butterflies for what seemed like the millionth time that day.
But he left with only parting words of, "You'll be fine." And she was alone.
Timidly, she stepped forward eyeing the old man warily; it wasn't high on common occurrences to meet someone whose hair and beard were so long that he had tucked the latter into his belt. Instead of normal clothes, Muggle clothes, he wore dark purple robes decorated with gold swirls, his glasses, which were shaped like half moons, perched on top of a long crooked, nose. Underneath the robes, the colours continued in lime green and sky blue bell-bottom trousers and bronze-buckled brown shoes. His face was wrinkled to a degree she'd never seen before, but they added wisdom and age that called for respect without outright commanding it, and blue sparkled within his hooded eyes. Needless to say you couldn't miss the man.
"So you're the headmaster of this school? The supreme mugwump?"
"That I would," he said with a gentle smile, "Would you like to take a seat? I'm presuming you have a lot of questions to ask."
Unnerved, she sat on the edge of the chair before his desk as he sat down behind it. How did he know that?
"You presume right, how long do you have?"
"How many questions do you have?"
Enough to fill the rest of the day. "A lot."
"Well then, you may as well start asking them, and I will answer them to the best of my knowledge."
"Cool. Well, when I got my wand, Mr. Ollivander said I would be going into my Fifth Year, what did he mean? How many years are there? Why am I missing four?"
"Where would you like me to start?" he smiled, "You asked me quite a few questions just now -is there any one in particular you want me to answer first?"
Orion considered this for a moment, her head holding in more questions than that and thousands more kept pushing their way in, though some were rather obscure, like what's that twirly thing? There were others too, not quite as random, had he known her parents? Did he know what her real last name was? Was this the school her parents went to? How do brooms work? Were there other magic teaching schools? What's a mugwump?
"No, none in particular."
"All right then: I'll explain as much as I can -forgive me if I leave something out though -you asked a lot of questions.
"Students that will attend Hogwarts receive a letter in the summer before they start what I believe you call 'Year Seven'. As you noticed, you only received yours this year, which you may blame myself and the Ministry of Magic for -"
"What's that?" she interrupted.
"It's similar to the Muggle government," he explained, "Actually, perhaps I should start at the beginning of the process.
When every child is born, they are automatically recorded in the Hogwarts Lists if they possess magic, be they Muggle-born or Wizard born, then, when those children in the Lists turn eleven, they receive their letter. Somehow we overlooked yours. It was only a few days ago, by pure luck, that we realised the mistake and I made immediate arrangements for you to be bought here. Any help?"
Orion felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up; something wasn't right, but she couldn't place what. How had they 'overlooked' her? Did it happen often? More questions poured into her brain like water from a tap. Once again the four years query popped up; he'd neglected to mention that part.
"It clears a lot up, thanks, but you never said how I was supposed to catch up on four years of work."
Dumbledore smiled faintly and pushed one of the buttons on a silver trinket; it turned pink. "I don't think it will be too much of a problem, you see, learning anything in a class of more than, say three people, takes much longer than teaching just one or two, because the teacher doesn't have to deal with so many abilities and attitudes."
"Okay." Still -four years in a single summer holiday? Orion looked around the room merely for the sake of doing so. The paintings on these walls seemed to be moving as well, and it looked like there was a sword in that cabinet. "If you don't mind, I have a few more questions, and they're gonna make me sound insane."
He fixed her with an amused stare, "No more insane than I am, I'm sure."
"Alright then; are those paintings really moving? Or have I completely lost it?"
"You haven't lost it, they really are moving. You will find that just about everything in the Magical World moves: paintings, photographs, and even suits of armour.
"Oh yes, and don't be surprised if a painting talks to you -they get a little bored during the summer holidays."
Orion turned around to point to the cabinet behind her. "Right, now, is that a real sword?"
"Yes it is; Harry Potter pulled it out of the Sorting Hat in his second year."
"Sorting Hat?"
"Ah yes -that reminds me, we have to sort you into a house."
Dumbledore rose from his seat and walked over to a stool by the door; when he came back he was carrying a rather old and torn looking wizard's hat, "Just put it on your head." He said simply.
Gingerly, she took the tatty thing from his hands and placed it on her head, wondering what could be so special about it as it fell over her ears. A voice in her ear that came from the hat made her jump.
'What's this? New students already?'
'No.' Orion thought to the hat, hoping it heard.
Apparently it did hear, because it replied.
'Ah yes -you're a few years to old to be a new student, but I haven't sorted you before.'
'I know, they missed me out and only just found out their mistake, or something.'
'Yes, I can see that now. I can see everything inside your head -but don't be afraid.'
'Oh.' That was unsettling.
'Now, where should I put you? You've got loyalty -but I don't think Hufflepuff would be your cup of tea.
"Let's see, talent? Oh yes, like your father -Ravenclaw? Let me just look at everything else first; you're not really into power or domination are you? And I don't really see you fitting in with Slytherin, but you do have a lot of courage here, and bravery, so Ravenclaw or Gryffindor?'
The hat was having a one-sided conversation about her, talking about houses and cups of tea and her dad, and it was still going.
'You are a bit wild once you get used to things, aren't you? A bit troublemaker too, I see. Yes, you're not quite the right material for Ravenclaw, you're much more suited to GRYFFINDOR!"
The hat shouted the last word. Carefully, afraid it might fall to pieces at any minute; she took off the hat and put it on the solid oak desk in front of her. Dumbledore seemed mildly pleased with the decision the hat had made, though she didn't know why -what difference did it make whether she was in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Slytherin?
"Well, now that that is out the way, what do you want to do? You'll be starting your schooling tomorrow; I've arranged somebody to show you the way."
"Um, I'd just like to put my things away, if that's okay."
Dumbledore nodded, "Of course that's okay. Professor McGonagall is waiting for you outside, if you just ask her where Gryffindor Common Room is, she'll take you."
"Thank you, Professor." She smiled at him and went to the door, with only a few questions answered and a good thousand more unanswered.
Just as Dumbledore had said, outside his office Orion found Professor McGonagall waiting, she was a stern looking woman, her hair tied back tightly into a bun that gave the impression of no-nonsense at all times.
Like the older headmaster, McGonagall was wearing robes, although hers were black, and to top it off she wore a pointed black hat and square shaped spectacles. Making a mental note not to cross this woman in a serious manner that deserved punishment, she asked as politely as she could, if she could show her where Gryffindor Common Room was?
"Well I certainly wouldn't leave you here, would I?" she replied, "Follow me."
Orion followed her back down the enchanted staircase, past the ugly gargoyle, through corridors (all, to her delight, had moving paintings hung on the walls. Some of them said hello and she greeted them back, which they were very pleased about, and some weren't even in their frames but had gone to see some of their friends on other floors, as she was informed by their neighbours.), and up a flight of marble steps until she stopped in front of a portrait of a fat lady dressed in pink, which, incidentally, was entitled The Fat Lady.
"This is the hidden entrance to the Common Room, just say the password and she'll let you in."
On cue, the portrait said, "Password?"
"Summer cheer." Said Professor McGonagall. The Fat Lady smiled and swung open to reveal a luxurious circle-shaped room decorated with plush and overstuffed armchairs, a large fire grate, and a fluffy rug. "You'll be notified when the password changes. When the rest of the school comes you will find out who your House Prefects and new Head Boy and Girl are.
"As for the Head of House -that's me, the House Ghost, such that he is, goes by Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. You room is up those stairs to you left and is the door with 'Fifth Year Girls' written across. If you need anything, just ask a painting. Sir Nicolas will be here in an hour to take you to the Great Hall for dinner."
And with that she left back through the portrait hole, leaving Orion alone.
"So, a ghost will be escorting me to dinner in an hour," she muttered dropping her cauldron full of new things onto the floor, "I suppose that's normal for witches. Now, where's that dormitory?"
The dormitory was, amazing. Four-poster beds with hanging curtains, soft, perfect looking covers and blankets that she could just collapse on… "This is so cool." Three of the beds and their cabinets looked occupied, since there were stickers and a few things on them, so, Orion threw her backpack onto the spare bed and threw her self on after it, wondering what on earth she was supposed to do for an hour.
After ten minutes of staring into space, she went back downstairs and started unwrapping her spell books -if she really did have to do four years work in a one-on-one class, she couldn't exactly hide in the back row since there would only be empty seats in front of her.
"Hello, you must be Orion?" The silvery form of a ghost with a ruffle high up on his neck startled her from Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two with yelp. She nodded slowly.
"I'm Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, I'm here to take you to the Great Hall since you won't know the way yet."
"Okay."
"Well, should we depart then?"
She nodded, slipping back into her trainers. "Sure."
The ghost glided through the portrait hole, making her do a re-take, but other than that she found the trip wholly un-eventful -going places with a ghost wasn't as weird as she thought it would be. It was like going somewhere with a living person, except he was a silvery, translucent ghost who glided instead of walked, and went through doors instead of opening them.
Biding the ghost goodbye, she stepped through to the Great Hall with a small amount of trepidation, who was going to be there? Was she going to have to eat eye of newt?
"Ah, here she is," it was Professor Dumbledore, sitting at a long table full of professors. Orion felt her stomach drop, and, reminding herself that teachers were people too, that they weren't monsters that lived in classrooms and ate little children who didn't do their homework, she edged closer. "Please, take a seat and help yourself!"
Taking the only free seat, by an old looking man with grey hair that, judging by the few glints of colour left, used to be ginger, she sat down tentatively, very aware that she was the only one not wearing robes. The table was laden with food; bowls of carrots and peas and beans and broccoli, platters of chicken wings and legs and gammon and beef, plates of Yorkshire puddings and baby sweet-corn, dishes of roast potatoes and mashed potatoes and turnips. There were bronze plated bowls of mint humbugs and lemon lollipops too, but she wasn't sure what to make of those.
Overall, it was the best meal she'd ever had -with the Williams if she was trusted with cooking a meal it was never very complex, and more than often at least partially burnt, and Cecilia, well, she wasn't much better.
As the deserts were appearing (literally, the main course vanished after the plates were scraped clean of second helpings) Orion tuned into the conversation around her. She was, apparently, sitting next to Professor Flohasa, and the greasy haired one opposite was Professor Snape. That was who Dumbledore was talking too now, discussing lessons tomorrow; Orion looked up when her name was called.
"Orion, you'll have first lesson with Professor Snape tomorrow in the dungeons," Dumbledore said, taking a spoon full of rice pudding and adding it to a bowl of strawberry jam. "In fact, here's your timetable that you'll be using for a little while, until you pick your options." With a wave of his wand a piece of parchment written on in red ink was her new timetable. Picking it from the air, she smiled, spared it a brief glance and put it in her pocket.
"Thanks, Professor. So, you teach potions Professor Snape?"
"Congratulations on learning how to read." He said dryly.
"Thanks! It's one of my biggest achievements!"
Somebody sniggered, though she wasn't sure whether it was at Snape or her. Great, she thought, I have that man every Monday morning, fantastic. Scanning the rest of the week, she noted that there was a double lesson with the man on Thursday as well. Even more fantastic.
Thankfully, the rest of the dinner finished without incident, unless the block of strawberry and toffee ripple ice cream falling onto the floor with a loud splat counted, when Professor Sinatra laughed too hard at a joke told by the exceptionally small Professor Flitwick (were they all Professors?) and her hands flailed about wildly as she tried to control herself.
When the final chocolate éclairs departed of their own accord, and the last of the strawberries were eaten (a cause too which Orion was pleased to help with), Dumbledore stood up with a clinking of a glass,
"I believe it's getting late, so, if we all depart to our bed chambers, we shall all be thoroughly rested in the morning."
For her part, Orion didn't feel like arguing, the world had taken on the surreal feeling that it takes when you've eaten a lot and are very tired. Very content and slightly stuffed, she said goodnight to the teachers and wondered out of the hall, and was saved from spending the night lost in the corridor by Sir Nicholas, who was flying by and gave her a direct guided tour back to the Common Room.
"I don't think I've ever eaten so much in one meal before." She told the empty room, picking up Magical Drafts and Potions and One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi as she stumbled back to her new bed (which was looking very inviting), determined to read at least a chapter of each of the books, since it was Potions with Professor Greasy Snape first thing in the mornings.
After two chapters of Magical Drafts and Potions and 15 Magical Herbs and Fungi, she gave up: the lead on her eyelids was getting too heavy and the call from the plush bed was too much to resist. Three minutes later she was curled up in bed and fast asleep, the sheer enormity of everything that'd happened in the space of under twelve hours having finally taken its toll.
*****
Sirius glared at Remus, "You're lying."
"Why would I need to lie, Sirius? You're being irrational!"
"Then why won't you tell me where you went? If it wasn't anything important, why the big secret?"
Remus had returned to his house half an hour ago, to find a very irate Sirius pacing the kitchen -it appeared that he'd been very worried that Voldemort's forces had caught him.
"I told you Sirius, I was running an errand for Dumbledore, why won't you believe me?"
"Oh I believe you Moony, but you're still lying. You're missing something out," he grinned, "and I'll get it out of you eventually."
Relaxing, Remus smiled back and conjured a pot of tea, "Heard any news about the headquarters yet?"
"Not a one, but -"
"But? Why is there a but?"
Sirius added a spoonful of sugar to his cup, "What about my house? It's still there," at Remus' sceptical look he added, "sure, it needs a bit of work, and it'll need some Muggle wards placed on it, but it'd be perfect. You've got to admit that."
"Hmm," he took a long drink, "You're right, I suppose. Have you talked to Dumbledore about it?"
Sirius shook his head.
"He said he'd drop by some time this week; might as well suggest it to him then."
"Don't forget then."
He scoffed. Living with Remus was good, no worries about rent, but it was like being a student again, with Remus being the sensible, responsible one, reminding him to do things, except then it was to do homework and now it was to talk to Dumbledore about a secret Order's even more secret headquarters.
*****
"I'm just popping out for a little while, dears. Don't you two dare blow anything or anybody up, you hear me?" Mrs Weasley pointed her wand at Fred and George, "Understand me?"
A chorus of 'yes mum' and 'yes Mrs. Weasley' rose from the assembled children. Satisfied that most of them would at least try to do what she said, she hugged each in turn and Apparated with a crack.
"Where do you think she's gone this time?" said Ginny, eyeing the piece of cake George handed her suspiciously.
"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione exclaimed, "She's gone to a meeting for the you-know-what."
"Hermione, will you just say it?"
"We heard mum and dad talking about the Order, and I bet that's where she's gone now, for a secret get together with some other members." Ron explained triumphantly, pleasure written in his expression at being the knowledgeable one over his siblings.
"Wicked."
"Do you reckon they'll let us join?" said Fred hopefully, stroking his wand wistfully, "I could really blast some of those Deatheaters."
"I doubt it," said Hermione,
"Why not?" Harry had stood in silence, content to listen to the others talk, but now he wanted to know why they couldn't help in the fight against Voldemort and his followers, especially now when so few believed in his return, surely Dumbledore could use everyone who was willing?
"Because we haven't even finished school yet -there's no way he'd let any one until they've left Hogwarts."
"Stupid idea if you ask me." Ron muttered.
"So!" cried Fred, "Who's up to testing the Weasley Wizard Wheezes latest products?"
"We've got Extendable Ears, great for listening in on conversations others don't want you to hear; Skiving Snackboxes, which are still experimental but very useful as soon as school begins for ducking out of lessons!"
*****
Author: Lani
E-Mail: lanirhys@aol.com
Authors Notes: Is there something about this story that everybody hates :( lol.... ahh well i'm still gonna write it! so :P
Review Response:
Charlie: Harry get a pet snake? i'm not sure about the pet thing, but if you want i'll work a snake for Harry into it -it can kill him or something, lol -joking! but a snake friend for Harry. How's that? Yeah the Harry bit hasn't been very dramatic -but things are happening in it and he's learning things! honest! You like the Orion bit? Yay! Took me bloody ages to write
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Chapter Three
Orion found herself on the floor, again, in front of a set of tall iron gates with the same crest wrought into it as there was printed on the parchment.
"Is this it?" she asked, looking around for a collection of buildings that were bound to be a school. "There's nothing here."
"Look over there, beyond the gates." He said, pointing to a point beyond a lake.
"That's a castle, Remus."
"That's Hogwarts." He replied in the same tone.
"It's a castle!" This was unbelievable! Schools were square with two or three floors, and demountables that needed demolishing but wouldn't be until new ones were bought or new buildings built; they weren't castles!
Remus placed a hand on the gates, which opened by themselves without a squeak,
"Yes, it's a castle. What were you expecting? A modern building full of, what do you call them? Computers?"
She didn't say anything. What had she been expecting at a school that taught magic?
"Are you coming?" During her thoughts, he had walked some way ahead.
"What are we doing next? Am I gonna learn magic?"
"In here," he gestured to a carriage, "Do you always ask so many questions?"
"Yes, it really annoys people; don't tell me you haven't noticed already? So…"
"So, first I'm taking you to see Professor Dumbledore, and then I don't know what's happening."
"What! Why?"
"Because I have somewhere else to be," at her startled look he continued, "don't worry, Orion, they won't bite you."
"So comforting." She groaned, staring out of the window at the scenery, then something struck her, "Where're the horses?"
"There aren't any horses, but they aren't enchanted either. Tell you what,"
"What?"
"If you can find out how these carriages move, tell Professor McGonagall,"
"Who?"
"You'll find out soon, now, am I allowed to finish?"
"Go ahead."
"If you do, tell Professor McGonagall and she'll contact me, then I'll send you a reward."
"Why?" she asked, intrigued. No one had ever said something like that, more likely: if you get the answer, you'll pass.
"Well, why not?"
"Good point."
Orion contented herself with silence for a minute, watching the window and lulling Remus into a false sense of security, and then she started again.
"What was Mr. Ollivander talking about in the shop? About me going into my Fifth Year?"
A pause, then, "I can't tell you because I don't know what's going on myself."
"Yeah but, what about the four years I missed?"
The carriage was slowing to a halt, effectively distracting her from Remus long enough for him to move and change the subject.
"Did you know this castle is enchanted?"
"Why am I not surprised?" she commented wryly as they climbed up the worn stone steps, "So, where're we going?"
"To see Professor Dumbledore, in fact," Remus looked at the battered watch on his wrist, "he's waiting in his office now, so would you like to stop gaping or be late?"
"Wha -oh." She's been standing, rooted to the spot, staring at everything in sight, "Professor Dumbledore… he's the headmaster of the school, right? The supreme mugwump?"
"Yes he is and yes he would be. Watch your step." One of the stairs he was leading her up disappeared, and was it her imagination, or were those paintings moving? She shook her head; she had to be loosing it.
Through corridors lined with flaming torches, past suits of squeaky armour and statues of witches and wizards they went, until stopping before a particularly gruesome looking gargoyle.
"Ice Mice."
At these words spoken by Remus, the statue came to life; it hopped to one side as the wall behind it, the actual wall, split into two, revealing a staircase spiralling upwards.
"Cool, these're kind of like escalators, but I guess their not?"
"Correct."
They stepped off the staircase to face yet another pair of wooden doors, these ones made of high-polished oak. Remus knocked twice and the doors opened.
"Hello Remus, did everything go all right?" An old man greeted as he got up from a large desk covered in odd things made of silver and gold, things that whirled and whizzed and clicked and ticked.
"Yes Professor, except for a minor disagreement with the Williams, everything went brilliantly." He gave her an encouraging smile, to which she raised her eyebrows, "Orion this is Professor Dumbledore. I hope to see you again one day." As he turned to leave, she caught up with the meaning of his words.
"You're leaving now?" she hissed, gaining butterflies for what seemed like the millionth time that day.
But he left with only parting words of, "You'll be fine." And she was alone.
Timidly, she stepped forward eyeing the old man warily; it wasn't high on common occurrences to meet someone whose hair and beard were so long that he had tucked the latter into his belt. Instead of normal clothes, Muggle clothes, he wore dark purple robes decorated with gold swirls, his glasses, which were shaped like half moons, perched on top of a long crooked, nose. Underneath the robes, the colours continued in lime green and sky blue bell-bottom trousers and bronze-buckled brown shoes. His face was wrinkled to a degree she'd never seen before, but they added wisdom and age that called for respect without outright commanding it, and blue sparkled within his hooded eyes. Needless to say you couldn't miss the man.
"So you're the headmaster of this school? The supreme mugwump?"
"That I would," he said with a gentle smile, "Would you like to take a seat? I'm presuming you have a lot of questions to ask."
Unnerved, she sat on the edge of the chair before his desk as he sat down behind it. How did he know that?
"You presume right, how long do you have?"
"How many questions do you have?"
Enough to fill the rest of the day. "A lot."
"Well then, you may as well start asking them, and I will answer them to the best of my knowledge."
"Cool. Well, when I got my wand, Mr. Ollivander said I would be going into my Fifth Year, what did he mean? How many years are there? Why am I missing four?"
"Where would you like me to start?" he smiled, "You asked me quite a few questions just now -is there any one in particular you want me to answer first?"
Orion considered this for a moment, her head holding in more questions than that and thousands more kept pushing their way in, though some were rather obscure, like what's that twirly thing? There were others too, not quite as random, had he known her parents? Did he know what her real last name was? Was this the school her parents went to? How do brooms work? Were there other magic teaching schools? What's a mugwump?
"No, none in particular."
"All right then: I'll explain as much as I can -forgive me if I leave something out though -you asked a lot of questions.
"Students that will attend Hogwarts receive a letter in the summer before they start what I believe you call 'Year Seven'. As you noticed, you only received yours this year, which you may blame myself and the Ministry of Magic for -"
"What's that?" she interrupted.
"It's similar to the Muggle government," he explained, "Actually, perhaps I should start at the beginning of the process.
When every child is born, they are automatically recorded in the Hogwarts Lists if they possess magic, be they Muggle-born or Wizard born, then, when those children in the Lists turn eleven, they receive their letter. Somehow we overlooked yours. It was only a few days ago, by pure luck, that we realised the mistake and I made immediate arrangements for you to be bought here. Any help?"
Orion felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up; something wasn't right, but she couldn't place what. How had they 'overlooked' her? Did it happen often? More questions poured into her brain like water from a tap. Once again the four years query popped up; he'd neglected to mention that part.
"It clears a lot up, thanks, but you never said how I was supposed to catch up on four years of work."
Dumbledore smiled faintly and pushed one of the buttons on a silver trinket; it turned pink. "I don't think it will be too much of a problem, you see, learning anything in a class of more than, say three people, takes much longer than teaching just one or two, because the teacher doesn't have to deal with so many abilities and attitudes."
"Okay." Still -four years in a single summer holiday? Orion looked around the room merely for the sake of doing so. The paintings on these walls seemed to be moving as well, and it looked like there was a sword in that cabinet. "If you don't mind, I have a few more questions, and they're gonna make me sound insane."
He fixed her with an amused stare, "No more insane than I am, I'm sure."
"Alright then; are those paintings really moving? Or have I completely lost it?"
"You haven't lost it, they really are moving. You will find that just about everything in the Magical World moves: paintings, photographs, and even suits of armour.
"Oh yes, and don't be surprised if a painting talks to you -they get a little bored during the summer holidays."
Orion turned around to point to the cabinet behind her. "Right, now, is that a real sword?"
"Yes it is; Harry Potter pulled it out of the Sorting Hat in his second year."
"Sorting Hat?"
"Ah yes -that reminds me, we have to sort you into a house."
Dumbledore rose from his seat and walked over to a stool by the door; when he came back he was carrying a rather old and torn looking wizard's hat, "Just put it on your head." He said simply.
Gingerly, she took the tatty thing from his hands and placed it on her head, wondering what could be so special about it as it fell over her ears. A voice in her ear that came from the hat made her jump.
'What's this? New students already?'
'No.' Orion thought to the hat, hoping it heard.
Apparently it did hear, because it replied.
'Ah yes -you're a few years to old to be a new student, but I haven't sorted you before.'
'I know, they missed me out and only just found out their mistake, or something.'
'Yes, I can see that now. I can see everything inside your head -but don't be afraid.'
'Oh.' That was unsettling.
'Now, where should I put you? You've got loyalty -but I don't think Hufflepuff would be your cup of tea.
"Let's see, talent? Oh yes, like your father -Ravenclaw? Let me just look at everything else first; you're not really into power or domination are you? And I don't really see you fitting in with Slytherin, but you do have a lot of courage here, and bravery, so Ravenclaw or Gryffindor?'
The hat was having a one-sided conversation about her, talking about houses and cups of tea and her dad, and it was still going.
'You are a bit wild once you get used to things, aren't you? A bit troublemaker too, I see. Yes, you're not quite the right material for Ravenclaw, you're much more suited to GRYFFINDOR!"
The hat shouted the last word. Carefully, afraid it might fall to pieces at any minute; she took off the hat and put it on the solid oak desk in front of her. Dumbledore seemed mildly pleased with the decision the hat had made, though she didn't know why -what difference did it make whether she was in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Slytherin?
"Well, now that that is out the way, what do you want to do? You'll be starting your schooling tomorrow; I've arranged somebody to show you the way."
"Um, I'd just like to put my things away, if that's okay."
Dumbledore nodded, "Of course that's okay. Professor McGonagall is waiting for you outside, if you just ask her where Gryffindor Common Room is, she'll take you."
"Thank you, Professor." She smiled at him and went to the door, with only a few questions answered and a good thousand more unanswered.
Just as Dumbledore had said, outside his office Orion found Professor McGonagall waiting, she was a stern looking woman, her hair tied back tightly into a bun that gave the impression of no-nonsense at all times.
Like the older headmaster, McGonagall was wearing robes, although hers were black, and to top it off she wore a pointed black hat and square shaped spectacles. Making a mental note not to cross this woman in a serious manner that deserved punishment, she asked as politely as she could, if she could show her where Gryffindor Common Room was?
"Well I certainly wouldn't leave you here, would I?" she replied, "Follow me."
Orion followed her back down the enchanted staircase, past the ugly gargoyle, through corridors (all, to her delight, had moving paintings hung on the walls. Some of them said hello and she greeted them back, which they were very pleased about, and some weren't even in their frames but had gone to see some of their friends on other floors, as she was informed by their neighbours.), and up a flight of marble steps until she stopped in front of a portrait of a fat lady dressed in pink, which, incidentally, was entitled The Fat Lady.
"This is the hidden entrance to the Common Room, just say the password and she'll let you in."
On cue, the portrait said, "Password?"
"Summer cheer." Said Professor McGonagall. The Fat Lady smiled and swung open to reveal a luxurious circle-shaped room decorated with plush and overstuffed armchairs, a large fire grate, and a fluffy rug. "You'll be notified when the password changes. When the rest of the school comes you will find out who your House Prefects and new Head Boy and Girl are.
"As for the Head of House -that's me, the House Ghost, such that he is, goes by Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. You room is up those stairs to you left and is the door with 'Fifth Year Girls' written across. If you need anything, just ask a painting. Sir Nicolas will be here in an hour to take you to the Great Hall for dinner."
And with that she left back through the portrait hole, leaving Orion alone.
"So, a ghost will be escorting me to dinner in an hour," she muttered dropping her cauldron full of new things onto the floor, "I suppose that's normal for witches. Now, where's that dormitory?"
The dormitory was, amazing. Four-poster beds with hanging curtains, soft, perfect looking covers and blankets that she could just collapse on… "This is so cool." Three of the beds and their cabinets looked occupied, since there were stickers and a few things on them, so, Orion threw her backpack onto the spare bed and threw her self on after it, wondering what on earth she was supposed to do for an hour.
After ten minutes of staring into space, she went back downstairs and started unwrapping her spell books -if she really did have to do four years work in a one-on-one class, she couldn't exactly hide in the back row since there would only be empty seats in front of her.
"Hello, you must be Orion?" The silvery form of a ghost with a ruffle high up on his neck startled her from Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two with yelp. She nodded slowly.
"I'm Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, I'm here to take you to the Great Hall since you won't know the way yet."
"Okay."
"Well, should we depart then?"
She nodded, slipping back into her trainers. "Sure."
The ghost glided through the portrait hole, making her do a re-take, but other than that she found the trip wholly un-eventful -going places with a ghost wasn't as weird as she thought it would be. It was like going somewhere with a living person, except he was a silvery, translucent ghost who glided instead of walked, and went through doors instead of opening them.
Biding the ghost goodbye, she stepped through to the Great Hall with a small amount of trepidation, who was going to be there? Was she going to have to eat eye of newt?
"Ah, here she is," it was Professor Dumbledore, sitting at a long table full of professors. Orion felt her stomach drop, and, reminding herself that teachers were people too, that they weren't monsters that lived in classrooms and ate little children who didn't do their homework, she edged closer. "Please, take a seat and help yourself!"
Taking the only free seat, by an old looking man with grey hair that, judging by the few glints of colour left, used to be ginger, she sat down tentatively, very aware that she was the only one not wearing robes. The table was laden with food; bowls of carrots and peas and beans and broccoli, platters of chicken wings and legs and gammon and beef, plates of Yorkshire puddings and baby sweet-corn, dishes of roast potatoes and mashed potatoes and turnips. There were bronze plated bowls of mint humbugs and lemon lollipops too, but she wasn't sure what to make of those.
Overall, it was the best meal she'd ever had -with the Williams if she was trusted with cooking a meal it was never very complex, and more than often at least partially burnt, and Cecilia, well, she wasn't much better.
As the deserts were appearing (literally, the main course vanished after the plates were scraped clean of second helpings) Orion tuned into the conversation around her. She was, apparently, sitting next to Professor Flohasa, and the greasy haired one opposite was Professor Snape. That was who Dumbledore was talking too now, discussing lessons tomorrow; Orion looked up when her name was called.
"Orion, you'll have first lesson with Professor Snape tomorrow in the dungeons," Dumbledore said, taking a spoon full of rice pudding and adding it to a bowl of strawberry jam. "In fact, here's your timetable that you'll be using for a little while, until you pick your options." With a wave of his wand a piece of parchment written on in red ink was her new timetable. Picking it from the air, she smiled, spared it a brief glance and put it in her pocket.
"Thanks, Professor. So, you teach potions Professor Snape?"
"Congratulations on learning how to read." He said dryly.
"Thanks! It's one of my biggest achievements!"
Somebody sniggered, though she wasn't sure whether it was at Snape or her. Great, she thought, I have that man every Monday morning, fantastic. Scanning the rest of the week, she noted that there was a double lesson with the man on Thursday as well. Even more fantastic.
Thankfully, the rest of the dinner finished without incident, unless the block of strawberry and toffee ripple ice cream falling onto the floor with a loud splat counted, when Professor Sinatra laughed too hard at a joke told by the exceptionally small Professor Flitwick (were they all Professors?) and her hands flailed about wildly as she tried to control herself.
When the final chocolate éclairs departed of their own accord, and the last of the strawberries were eaten (a cause too which Orion was pleased to help with), Dumbledore stood up with a clinking of a glass,
"I believe it's getting late, so, if we all depart to our bed chambers, we shall all be thoroughly rested in the morning."
For her part, Orion didn't feel like arguing, the world had taken on the surreal feeling that it takes when you've eaten a lot and are very tired. Very content and slightly stuffed, she said goodnight to the teachers and wondered out of the hall, and was saved from spending the night lost in the corridor by Sir Nicholas, who was flying by and gave her a direct guided tour back to the Common Room.
"I don't think I've ever eaten so much in one meal before." She told the empty room, picking up Magical Drafts and Potions and One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi as she stumbled back to her new bed (which was looking very inviting), determined to read at least a chapter of each of the books, since it was Potions with Professor Greasy Snape first thing in the mornings.
After two chapters of Magical Drafts and Potions and 15 Magical Herbs and Fungi, she gave up: the lead on her eyelids was getting too heavy and the call from the plush bed was too much to resist. Three minutes later she was curled up in bed and fast asleep, the sheer enormity of everything that'd happened in the space of under twelve hours having finally taken its toll.
*****
Sirius glared at Remus, "You're lying."
"Why would I need to lie, Sirius? You're being irrational!"
"Then why won't you tell me where you went? If it wasn't anything important, why the big secret?"
Remus had returned to his house half an hour ago, to find a very irate Sirius pacing the kitchen -it appeared that he'd been very worried that Voldemort's forces had caught him.
"I told you Sirius, I was running an errand for Dumbledore, why won't you believe me?"
"Oh I believe you Moony, but you're still lying. You're missing something out," he grinned, "and I'll get it out of you eventually."
Relaxing, Remus smiled back and conjured a pot of tea, "Heard any news about the headquarters yet?"
"Not a one, but -"
"But? Why is there a but?"
Sirius added a spoonful of sugar to his cup, "What about my house? It's still there," at Remus' sceptical look he added, "sure, it needs a bit of work, and it'll need some Muggle wards placed on it, but it'd be perfect. You've got to admit that."
"Hmm," he took a long drink, "You're right, I suppose. Have you talked to Dumbledore about it?"
Sirius shook his head.
"He said he'd drop by some time this week; might as well suggest it to him then."
"Don't forget then."
He scoffed. Living with Remus was good, no worries about rent, but it was like being a student again, with Remus being the sensible, responsible one, reminding him to do things, except then it was to do homework and now it was to talk to Dumbledore about a secret Order's even more secret headquarters.
*****
"I'm just popping out for a little while, dears. Don't you two dare blow anything or anybody up, you hear me?" Mrs Weasley pointed her wand at Fred and George, "Understand me?"
A chorus of 'yes mum' and 'yes Mrs. Weasley' rose from the assembled children. Satisfied that most of them would at least try to do what she said, she hugged each in turn and Apparated with a crack.
"Where do you think she's gone this time?" said Ginny, eyeing the piece of cake George handed her suspiciously.
"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione exclaimed, "She's gone to a meeting for the you-know-what."
"Hermione, will you just say it?"
"We heard mum and dad talking about the Order, and I bet that's where she's gone now, for a secret get together with some other members." Ron explained triumphantly, pleasure written in his expression at being the knowledgeable one over his siblings.
"Wicked."
"Do you reckon they'll let us join?" said Fred hopefully, stroking his wand wistfully, "I could really blast some of those Deatheaters."
"I doubt it," said Hermione,
"Why not?" Harry had stood in silence, content to listen to the others talk, but now he wanted to know why they couldn't help in the fight against Voldemort and his followers, especially now when so few believed in his return, surely Dumbledore could use everyone who was willing?
"Because we haven't even finished school yet -there's no way he'd let any one until they've left Hogwarts."
"Stupid idea if you ask me." Ron muttered.
"So!" cried Fred, "Who's up to testing the Weasley Wizard Wheezes latest products?"
"We've got Extendable Ears, great for listening in on conversations others don't want you to hear; Skiving Snackboxes, which are still experimental but very useful as soon as school begins for ducking out of lessons!"
*****