Chapter One

The Girl In the Corridoor

A gentle breeze ruffled Harry's dark hair back from his forehead, tickling the zigzag shaped scar above his left eye as he stared out the classroom window. Across the grounds he could see a corner of the quidditch pictch, where every so often a small figure would zoom into view, one of the chasers for Ravenclaw's quidditch team who were at

practice. Somewhere in the background he could hear Professor Binns, the History of Magic teacher, droning on about the second Goblin Wars. He seemed to be speaking from a long distance away, and the sound grew fainter and fainter as Harry's eyes struggled to stay open. He could hear the soft shouts of the players on the quidditch field drifting across the grounds and up to his window.

Hermione nudged him, half-heartedly, knowing he wouldn't take in anything Professor Binns said anyway, and she would have to share her notes with him and Ron later, but wishing he would make a bit of an effort. He looked around. Ron was leaning on his table, idly chewing the end of his pencil and looking for all the world about as bored as Harry felt. It was the first day of term. This was one of the most boring classes on the school timetable, but he was grateful he didn't have his first Potions lesson of the year until Wednesday, which was two days from now.

Eventually Professor Binns finished his speech and reminded them all to read chapters ten and twelve, then turned and glided neatly through his desk, and pushed his notes into a neat pile, signaling the end of the lesson.

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked down to the great hall for lunch.

"I really wish you two would pay attention sometimes," Herminone said irritably. "Honestly, it's only the first day of term, and already I'M going to have to do most of your work for you."

"It's not our fault History of Magic is so boring," Ron said casually. "If there are any insomniacs in our class they'll all be cured after that lesson."

Harry grinned. "Hey Ron, want to go and practice some quidditch with me later?"

"Yeah, I've been dying to get on a broomstick again. You know that Cleansweep mum bought me? Fred and George put a Hurling Hex on it during the holidays, as a joke... so it would throw me off everytime I tried to get on it... and then mum confiscated it-" Harry looked crestfallen- "Yeah, I know- she said it was too dangerous and locked it in a cupboard. I wasn't allowed to use it all through the holidays until dad found a way of taking the curse off. Fred and George thought it was hilarious."

"Don't you two ever think about anything else?" Hermione snapped. Then her face took a look of intense concentration. "What did you think of that new teacher? Professor Finchley?"

Harry remembered the Sorting Ceremony that had taken place that morning, and how Dumbledore had introduced the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher afterwards. His name, Dumbledore had said, was Aurian Finchley. He was tall and thin with very long, greasy, black hair (which reminded Harry unpleasantly of Snape- though Snape's was much shorter), and wore a strange dark dusty overcoat with a big metal buckle on the front of it, scuffed brown leather jeans, and black boots. Most interesting of all, however, was his face, which was partially hidden by a long fringe. He had a severe-looking face, a long nose and a very thin pale scar running under one eye. Harry recalled how his eyes, looking like cold grey chips of ice, had wandered around the great hall as he was being introduced, as if searching the faces there. He had given the room a curt nod and sat back down without speaking.

"I think he looks like a psychopath," Ron said dejectedly. "He'll probably get on well with Snape."

Hermione glanced at Ron. "I think he'll be interesting."

Harry snorted. "Yeah. All of our Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers have been interesting. Remember Umbridge?" He made a conscious effort not to glance at the back of his hand, where the faint scars of Umbridge's quill still showed pale against his skin.

"Dumbledore wouldn't let someone like that teach us again," Hermione said firmly. "He had no choice giving Umbridge the job. Anyway... I think Professor Finchley's nice. He said hello to me in the entrance hall this morning."

Ron shot Harry a doubtful look, but decided it was better to keep his opinions to himself. They reached the end of the passage and were turning to exit onto the grand staircase when Harry happened to glance back down to the end of the hall, which was filled with people. Sunlight streamed in through a wide window at the end of the corridor and students were filing out of a classroom door into its bright white glare. One of them, a girl, her blonde hair seeming to glow in the afternoon sunlight, looked around and her blue-grey eyes met Harry's bright green ones, and he wondered who she was and why he had never noticed her around before- she was wearing Gryffindor robes.

Then he was pushed along behind Hermione and Ron by a tide of students bustling past him in the corridor, and she disappeared from sight.