Hi! It's me! (Who else would it be?) ::drumroll:: My first Harry Potter Fanfic! Yay! Wee-shnaw!(See profile) Ahem. ::Regains composure:: ::Loses composure and runs away like a mad....woman?:: ::OC eneters to take place::

Diana: Ola! I'm Diana, from The Girl, The God, and The Demons (Read it!) and I'm going to do the disclaimer since the authoress is....er....::glaces at still-running authoress:: occupied.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything! No one on this frickin' site owns anything! If you think I own anything, then your really stupid!

The All American Rebel

Chapter Uno: The Mysterious Girl

A teenaged boy with messy black hair stared out of the train's window, his brilliant green eyes distracted through his circular glasses. He subconsciously rubbed a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his head. A voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Harry, mate, are you alright?" a freckle-faced redhead sitting next to him inquired worriedly. Harry turned from the window, dreading the empathetic looks on his friends' faces.

"Yes, Harry. You've been quiet lately." a girl with bushy brown hair, sitting across from the boys added, looking up from her book, entitled "Advanced Arithimancy." Harry noticed each of their concerned looks and sighed. No need to include them in my problems...he thought regretfully.

"Nah, don't worry about me. I'm fine," he said to them, attempting to be nonchalant. The redhead shrugged, still looking worried, while the girl hid behind her book once again, although Harry could sense her gaze. "It's not like I don't appreciate the concern, it's just....err...." he trailed off, unable to find words to express himself. "We should change," he finished, thinking of something to fill the awkward silence. His friends sighed and joined in retrieving their luggage down from the storage shelf above their compartment.

As the three rummaged through their trunks, looking for robes, they heard the compartment door gently slide open. Harry suddenly felt a searing pain across his forehead; it was as if a thousand needles were piercing him. His vision became blurry from the pain and he dropped the piece of clothing he was holding (an old sock) as he fell to the floor, kneeling while he clasped his scar tightly. Harry saw a blurry figure with odd colored hair kneel down toward him, but then he saw no more.


When Harry awoke, people were crowding around him, whispering worriedly. A loud, obnoxious voice reached his ears, one he would rather not have heard.

"Well, well, well. Look who's gotten up. Going for a new record, scarhead? 'First student in the hospital wing?'" the voice of Draco Malfoy drifted into his head. Harry struggled to get up and grasp his wand, ready to duel the blonde-headed bully. No sooner was he up than the Slytherin shot a spell at him. "Petrificus Totalus!" he yelled, but Harry blocked it effortlessly. He had been practicing his defense all summer long, and was ready to put it to good use. Raising his wand, Harry began to cast a spell; however, he wasn't the one to attack his long-time enemy.

A girl whom Harry had never seen before kicked Malfoy forcefully in his privates, forcing him into a painful kneel. Nearby, two large boys cracked their knuckles threateningly. The girl laughed jovially, as if they were the funniest thing she had ever seen.

"This is great, just great," she said with an American accent, clapping her hands together to emphasize the hilarity of the situation. "You think you can scare me? How stupid are you?! But then again, when you look like giant slugs, I guess you think like them, too." She laughed, along with the rest of the compartment. "Wooo, I think that's enough funny for one day." She looked around at all of the other students, some of them still snickering. "Well, go on! Get out! Nothing to see here! Scar-boy is awake!" When they lingered for a moment she continued, "Get the fuck away!" They all scattered away hurriedly, the two boys she had insulted stopping momentarily to drag their leader away.

The girl sighed and, taking a seat next to Hermione, grabbed a pair of headphones from her small denim backpack, as well a book, titled "Hogwarts, a History." Harry looked at her curiously, taking in her unique appearance.

She had black hair, as dark as Harry's, but it was a covered by many stylish blonde streaks cascading through it. Her dyed red bangs flopped over a silver bandana, folded into a headband and placed across her forehead, as if covering something. Her skin, free of blemishes, was a milky white with natural looking blush. An earring depicting a thin wand hung from each earlobe and two silver stud earrings pierced the top rim of both of her ears. She fingered a leather strap around her neck, on which a lightning bolt-shaped pendant hung, almost identical to Harry's scar. She moved her head rhythmically to whatever she was listening to and her enchanting blue eyes, similar to Dumbledore's, scanned the pages of her book rapidly.

She looked up unexpectedly and noticed Harry's gaze as he hurriedly looked away, figuring that it would be impolite to stare. She sighed exasperatedly, removed her headphones, her music still on, and looked directly into his green eyes. Harry gulped as he was forced to stare into her deep eyes, and his nervousness pushed the slight stinging of his scar to the back of his mind.

"What? Do you want to listen or do you just like checking me out?" she asked abruptly, holding out the pulsating headphones to him. He was momentarily distracted by her black-tipped nails, but a nudge from a surprised Ron shook him out of his trance.

He hurriedly shook his head and, with prompting from Hermione, replied. "No, thank you. What's your name anyway?"

"Hilary," she answered shortly, once again reaching into her backpack. She put away the book and the headphones and took out a magazine titled "ym" which a still picture of an actor. Ron, who had previously been ignoring her presence, saw this as an opportunity to add to the awkward conversation.

"Are you muggle born!?" he said, a little too excitedly. She gave him a piercing look with those bright blue eyes, one which made it clear that he had said the wrong thing.

"I don't know," she said shortly, anger evident in her voice. Why wouldn't she know? Harry thought, confused but getting slightly angry. Hermione sensed Hilary's anger and discreetly scooted away from her. Hilary then seemed to realize the impression her statement had made and continued, much more relaxed. "It's not that I'm offended." Hermione relaxed, as did the boys. Hilary smiled encouragingly at the girl seated next to her. "Mudbloods are okay. It's not their fault." Hermione, as well as the other two, tightened up, their comfort gone. They were the opposite: angry.

"What's not their fault? Their birth?" Harry retorted rudely. Hilary shrugged, oblivious to, or perhaps ignoring, the hostile air as she continued to thumb through her magazine, unconcerned. "What the hell is your problem!? Are so close-minded that--" Harry began to yell, letting his temper free as he and Ron began to grow angrier. Hilary cut him off calmly.

"Dude, chill out. It's just a word. It. Means. Nothing," she said looking straight at him. He shrugged angrily and let the subject drop as Hermione and Ron glared daggers at her in unison. Hilary ignored them as she put away the magazine and pulled out her school robe, putting it over her clothes (a small, black midriff shirt and a short denim skirt, held up by a pink studded belt.) haphazardly. She made sure that her shoes, black boot-like Converse with black laces, could be seen quite plainly. A whistle sounded throughout the train, signifying that they had arrived. "See ya at the sorting." Hilary said cheerfully as collected her things and exited the compartment, tactfully ignoring the three glares which she received as a response.

"Talk about insensitive!" Hermione exclaimed as Hilary's dyed hair swung out of sight. She tugged at her trunk, accidentally dropping it on Ron's foot in her frustration.

"Ow!" he exclaimed as he shot a dirty look at Hermione.

"Blame Hilary! She's made me all frustrated!" she said, moving her trunk. As they began to get into an argument, Harry suddenly realized how close-minded they were acting.

"It's not her fault," he said, feeling an unexplained surge of loyalty toward the offensive American. Ron and Hermione looked at him, surprised. It then seemed to occur to them how improperly they were acting as they both nodded soberly. "Let's go, we don't want to be late," he finished and led them out, feeling an odd sense of accomplishment.

A/N: Well, there ya go. My people are famous for bad tempers, so expect the unexpected. The sorting is next....MUWHAHAHAHA! As always, please read and review!