Disclaimer: No major characters are mine except for a couple... and you haven't really been introduced. The world belongs to JK. Rowling as well as some basic plot.

(A/N: As the other chapter was a trial (this one is too) it was not actually where I was planning to start, so the plot is going to skip back a bit. Which will leave you in a lovely state of suspense as to who Voldemort's enemy is. Sorry about that grins a bit evilly Also, I know I originally said that the whole 5th book thing didn't happen, but I think I have away around having to do that so consider that unsaid. It's the sixth year.)

The day was cold, rainy, and the fog almost impermeable it was so thick, but Harry Potter was unfazed by the drab London day. Frankly, he would have been happy even if the city was hit by a tropical storm (not likely). As long as he got to leave the Dursley's and not return for a year all was good with him.

Well, except that his parents were dead... and his godfather... and all the people he'd been seeing in his dreams lately... and he was wanted by their murder, the most feared man in the wizarding world, but other than that he was doing pretty good.

Oh all right, so he wasn't doing very well at all. The tragic events of last year combined with spending a summer without friends and nothing but the abusive Dursleys for company hadn't improved the boy's health. He was a bit paler than normal, quieter, and more easily angered. And more than a bit depressed. However, he was happy today. Okay, Okay! Happyish. Better?

"Ron! Hermione!" Harry called above the crowd around the station. "Wait up!"

His two best friends turned towards him.

Ron Weasily was a tall boy with flaming red hair and a face smothered in golden freckles. At, sixteen, he was already significantly taller than his companion was, and so it was he who spotted Harry first.

"Harry! He called, waving and arm exuberantly over his head. "Over here! OUCH! What was that for Hermione?" He yelped the last bit with a bewildered expression, rubbing his arm where she'd pinched it.

"Honestly, Ron. Think. He wouldn't be asking us to wait if he doesn't know where we are already." Hermione Granger rolled her eyes. "There's no need to make a spectacle out of yourself."

Ron just stared at the 5'2" brunette. "Me?" he said, giving it a strange emphasis of disbelief as his ears flushed red. "What about you... you're the one who..."

Harry merely shook his head as he weaved his cart through the crowd. They were at it again. Some things never change, he thought with a wry smile. "Hey guys!"

Both jumped. Intent on the argument, they'd forgotten why they'd gotten into the argument in the first place. They glared at each other, then...

"Harry!" They both said and hugged him tight.

Another two-way glare.

"Come on you two, let's get on that train."
"Sirius!"

A disembodied voice called to it. Beckoning to it. This had happened before. It had listened before. This was a trick. A nasty trick, a horrible trick.

"Sirius!"

Again. No! I'm not listening. I'm not listening! Nooooo... It shrank away from the voice and shuddered. Why? Why do you haunt me? Why do you tempt me? Why do you torture me? It thought. Whining, a low growl, a mixture of anger and anguish sprung from the thing's throat as the voice continued for a long time. Then faded sadly.

"Sirius..."
They were last on the train again. This meant that they had to share a compartment with somebody. Not their favourite thing to do, but they could live with it. It wasn't that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were anti- social or anything; however, the lack of privacy would stop them from discussing certain things like Voldemort. Conversations of that sort were best held under closed company.

To their surprise, the trio found the last compartment inhabited by a single person swathed in a standard black cloak. The person's face was hidden from view.

"Hello?" Hermione asked. She leant forward slightly, not sure if the person was awake or not. She got no response. Shrugging, as if it mattered very little to her, Hermione went and sat on the opposite side.

"So," she said to Harry. "I won't ask how your summer was, as your letters made that clear enough..." he smiled wryly, "but are there any new developments?

"Not really." Harry answered tiredly. His hand passed over his jagged scar. "Just more murders and tortures of innocent people that he's delighting in showing me."

Hermione looked disgusted. "It isn't enough that he's killed your parents, your godfather, destroyed your chance of a normal life, and marked you. He also has to make what's left of your life a living hell. God, I'm sorry, Harry." She started to tear up a bit and looked down to hide the tears. "It sucks, you know, that you have to stay with the Dursleys. It's not fair. I wish we could be with you."

Ron and Harry exchanged a look. It was unlike Hermione to get this emotional over a simple conversation.

Ron mouthed: "PMS." Harry nodded.

Finally, Harry and Ron simply put their arms around her, murmuring, "Me too, Hermione. Me too."

"Actually," Harry said, breaking the silence. He leaned back. "I do have something to tell you about this summer. You know how I said the Dursleys were a bit afraid of me last time I went back, and so I got to have a lot of fun with Dudley? Well guess what." A pause. "Don't look at me like that Hermione, I didn't do anything to them. I promise."

"What?" Ron asked leaning forward in anticipation. Hermione looked at him exasperated.

Good. Harry thought. Everything back to normal. "Well," the sounds were drawn out dramatically, "my wonderful relatives decided they wanted to invite my favourite Auntie over." He scrunched up his nose distastefully and made them laugh. "So, seeing as sending to my room clearly didn't work last time; they decided this time that they'd ship me off somewhere while she was there. I really wouldn't have minded that much, but for principle's sake I flat out refused."

"And then..." Ron was really lapping this up.

"And then Hedwig shoots through the window with a letter. And then, to my surprise, drops it right in front of my Aunt. 'Don't pick it up, Petunia!' my Uncle said. 'It might be contaminated. Of course, I rolled my eyes at this and looked at the letter. It was indeed addressed to her and.get this... it was a HOWLER!"

Both Ron and Hermione's mouths dropped open.

"I know! I told her to pick it up, but I've told you what prudes they are about magic. So the idiots left a howler sitting on the carpet. It started to smoulder then: "PETUNIA AND VERNON DURSLEY! YOU OVERGROWN TOADSTOOL WARTS! YOU MAY NOT HARM HARRY IN ANY WAY OR KICK HIM OUT OF HIS OWN HOUSE! YOU WERE WARNED BEFORE OF THE CONSEQUENCES! Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonaggal, Hogwarts Professor of TRANSFIGURATION."

All three burst out laughing. "I'm not kidding though! That's the letter she sent!" They laughed harder.

"I'm sure your Aunt was thrilled about the scorches on her carpet."
The wry voice came out of nowhere. All three turned, and were horrified to see a woman sitting on the opposite side of the compartment. She looked comfortable in the assured way she was seated. The way that suggested she could listen to them for a considerable amount of time without interrupting; maybe she already had.

Standing, she walked over to them and offered a hand. "Hello. I'm Crystal." They just looked at her.

The woman had concealed under the cloak a long mane of black hair that curled softly into natural ringlets down past her shoulders. It contrasted sharply against her face, which was a pale white; that though not as extreme, reminded Harry of Professor Lupin. Her eyes were the clear blue of the stone for which she was named. A blue velvet choker decorated her neck, and the diamond shaped pendant suspended from it hung nearly touched the "v" in the high neckline of her robes. She was striking.

Ron and Harry simply stared at her. Hermione was the first to recover.

"I suppose you're a new teacher?" The girl answered.

The response was rude. Crystal merely lifted an inquiring brow. "I know for a fact that you are not like this with all your professors, Miss Granger. To be the school's top student and favourite with the professors you'd have to be more polite than that. Although Professor Snape wasn't particularly flattering in his comments concerning you."

"You must be Ron Weasily." The woman added, as they didn't seem inclined to introduce themselves, turning to Ron. Who nodded dumbly (by this I mean silently, as in a mute). "According to Professor Trelawny quite a decent Divination student. From which I gather you have quite the morbid imagination." Ron blushed. She smiled, amused. "Also known for chess?"

Last she looked at Harry. "Harry Potter then?" she paused as if not quite sure.

"Yes..." Harry could feel that his bangs weren't covering the scar. Why would she be uncertain as to his identity?

"May I?" She reached out tentatively.

The request, so softly asked, surprised him. No one had ever asked to touch the lightning-shaped scar before. In fact, an excruciating pain accompanied the only time he remembered having it touched when Voldemort had stroked it two years ago. Still, she wasn't Voldemort.

"Sure."

The moment her fingertips touched him he felt a light tingle of magic. His eyes met hers, and she withdrew her hand without breaking eye contact.

Hermione still wanted to know who this woman was. "You are a teacher then? Or just a school nurse."

Crystal sighed softly before flicking Hermione an annoyed glance. "You should have more respect for the nurses. But yes, I am a new teacher."

"Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Harry and Ron said hopefully.

"Are there any other vacant positions?" she asked sitting back on a seat and closing her eyes.

I don't trust her, Hermione thought darkly. She's too beautiful, too slick, too personal, and too ignorant of Harry. Whatever you're up to Miss Crystal I'm going to figure it out. You are not going to hurt Harry. I swear it!