Once again: The plot of this story is based on JKR's Harry Potter series. Our plot weaves in 2 new characters: David Murray and Elizabeth Fawkes. While Lizzy is an addition, Dave replaces Seamus Finnigan. It also incorporates ideas borrowed from the White Wolf storyteller game system (we won't mention which game as it will give away a big surprise, but it is wicked fun to play). Many new characters will appear in following chapters which are our characters based on the game system we played. Our plot weaves around the original plot of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. We own only our own characters and our plot. All other characters and the original plot belong to JK Rowling. Please don't sue us! :)

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Marauder Angel - Thanks for the review. I'm glad you like our story. We thought yours were great too. :)

Jeconais - Thanks for the review. We don't intend to marginalize the original characters, but as there is so much fan fiction about them already, we thought we would take a look at their lives through our new characters. But to understand their views, one must first understand them. Although they seem to have a lot going for them at the moment, it'll come at some heavy prices.

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The Lord, the Lady, and Luna

Chapter 5: Angst in Potions

The following morning, Dave woke up early, feeling very tired. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that he hadn't slept at all during the night. He went up to the dorms for a shower and changed into his school robes. The rest of the boys were still asleep. On his way back down, he met up with Lizzy who tended to be an early riser.

"You're up early, Elizabeth," Dave said to her.

"I was about to say the same to you," she replied. "I like to get up early. Whenever I sleep in, I always feel like I'm wasting part of my day. There always so much to do. Are you ready to go to breakfast?" Dave nodded his reply and the two made their way down to the great hall. There were only a few students there, mostly sixth and seventh years.

They were nearly halfway through their breakfast by the time the rest of the students arrived for breakfast. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat near Dave and Lizzy. The twins, of course, came and sat next to Lizzy again. They seemed extremely disappointed that she was nearly done eating and they couldn't enjoy more time with her. It was rather amazing that Lizzy got to eat anything that morning, as she had a constant stream of male well-wishers wanting to introduce themselves to her. In fact, it was probably only the fact that she was down so early that enabled her to eat in anything resembling peace. Soon, Professor McGonagall came around, handing out timetables.

"Oh look, our first class is Transfiguration," Dean Thomas, another first year, said.

"My, I wouldn't change that for the world!" Dave chortled. The others gave him perplexed looks. Apparently, no one got the joke. Dave took a second look at his timetable. Included with it was a note from Professor Dumbledore that requested his presence in the Headmaster's office at the start of lunch. "Oh great. I'm in trouble already and we haven't even had Potions yet."

"How'd you manage that?!" the twins asked incredulously, "Even we have never had success so early. Our record first detention was on the third day of school last year."

"How do you know he's in trouble?" Lizzy asked, "What if Professor Dumbledore just wants to talk to him about something?"

"Well, what else could it be?" the twins asked, "Every time we ever get called to Dumbledore's office, it's because we're in trouble."

"Yes, I can believe that," Dave and Lizzy both said with a smile. Dave knew the twins quite well, and even Lizzy had heard enough about them to figure out that they were probably in trouble a lot. "Fifteen minutes to class," Dave continued, "We'd better get moving." With that, Dave, Lizzy, and the others made their way to their classes.

In Transfiguration class, Harry and Ron sat together, Hermione sat with one of the other girls, and Lizzy sat with Dave. They noticed that they each had a small box of matchsticks on their desks.

"Transfiguration is not all that difficult if you put your mind to it!" Professor McGonagall declared. "So, let's try a beginner task. Everyone have your matchsticks? Good, now on the count of three, tap your wand on the matches and turn them into pins. Ready? One, Two, Three!" Several students achieved the transfiguration the very first time, and then there was Dave. Not only did he change all his matchsticks into pins, but his box also changed into an elaborate pin cushion with the pins ornately displayed in it.

"Very well done, Mr. Murray!" Professor McGonagall congratulated him. "What is it that powers your wand?"

"I don't use a wand Professor," Dave announced. The silence in the class was deafening. No one had ever heard of anyone performing magic without a wand before. Even Professor Dumbledore, admittedly the greatest wizard of their time, used a wand.

"Very well, Mr. Murray, try to help out poor Miss Fawkes, her pins seem to look more like noodles," she said and left to examine others' attempts while constantly throwing proud glances back at her new prodigy. The rest of the class passed smoothly, and eventually even Lizzy was able to get her pins straight.

"Potions! Well this ought to be fun," Dave announced, as they headed to the dungeons, "Anyone want to start a poll to see how long it takes for Snape to give me detention?"

"David, how do you know he will give you detention?" Lizzy inquired.

"Trust him!" Neville replied to Lizzy, then announced, "I got before the bell rings to start class." A perplexed Lizzy followed in silent thought the rest of the way, wondering how to stay out of the line of fire.

Potions started with Snape berating Harry Potter. Only Dave seemed to know exactly why this was, and after a few moments, he seemed to have had enough.

"Professor Snape?" Dave called while raising his left arm and holding it like it was in pain. "Are you being so nasty because your forearm hurts today, or are you just naturally bitchy?" Not a sound could be heard until Snape responded.

"Detention Mr. ..what is your name?" he said, peering at the class list, "Murray."

"That would be Lord Murray to you, Snivellus!"

"Darn!" Neville said under his breath, "Took longer than I expected."

"Go immediately to see the Headmaster about your lack of respect for your professors, Mr. Murray."

"Why Snivellus, I have plenty of respect for those who earn it. I also have a long memory. My uncle has seen to that!"

"OUT!" Snape bellowed. Dave left, but not before giving a florid bow to the class. Parvati leaned over to Lizzy and whispered,

"Got to admit, he did it with style!" Lizzy for her part quickly turned a giggle into a cough and started on her potion. She admired Dave for his audacity in standing up to Snape and she silently agreed that Professor Snape wasn't being very fair to Harry. At the same time, however, she was really interested in learning potions and didn't want to get on Snape's bad side. As it was, her first attempt at making a potion turned out so well that Snape, hard as he tried, couldn't fault it.

Dave, in the meantime, arrived at Professor Dumbledore's office to find the gargoyle that guarded the stairs already open. He knocked on the office door.

"Come in." Dave heard a voice from inside. He went in and greeted the old man who was sitting behind his desk.

"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore."

"Ah, good morning, David. You do realize that you have beaten the Weasley twins' record for getting detention?" Professor Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes.

"I'm proud of myself, sir," Dave replied with a slight smile, "But in all honesty, I didn't think it would take that long. He obviously doesn't know who I am."

"Now that he has connected you with the name, I'm sure he'll realize who you must be."

"You do remember who my father was, don't you sir?" Dave asked, "And I'm sure you know my uncle. You must have gotten his letter by now?"

"Yes, indeed," Professor Dumbledore said, "Professor McGonagall and I have read it. That letter is the main reason I wished to see you today at lunch, but since you're a little...early, we might as well have our chat now."

"Am I in trouble? Well, more trouble?"

"No, your detention from Potions will do for now," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"You mean you're going to leave me alone with him for hours?" Dave asked with a toothy grin, "There's no telling what I might end up doing."

"Actually, no. You will serve your detention with Hagrid, tonight, right after dinner, at his vegetable patch near the forest."

"That's not fair. Snivellus gave me the detention. He should be the one to suffer for it."

"That is quite enough of that name, David." Dumbledore said sternly. "As for your detention, they are not always served with the teacher who assigns them."

"Don't you realize what he is?"

"I know far more about Professor Snape than you could ever hope to, in spite of your uncle's training. I know exactly what he was, and what he is now."

"Well, what he is now is an insensitive, unprofessional git who can't tell the difference between Harry and James. He's taking out his hatred of James on Harry."

"I know what he is doing, but, whatever he may be doing wrong, it is not for you, a student, to take into your hands to correct him. If you have a problem, you go to Professor McGonagall or myself. We will deal with it."

"With all due respect, sir, he has been heavily favouring Slytherins for years, according to the older students. Why hasn't anything been done about it?"

"That is true, but you cannot condemn an act without knowing all the facts. And you obviously do not know all the facts. What most older students don't tell you is that despite the favouring, they always manage to come out of Potions with marks appropriate to their abilities. This year, there will be even heavier favouring, but there is a very important reason for it. However, don't think that I haven't noticed his treatment of Harry. I will have words with him about that."

"I don't have to like him, do I?" Dave asked, "I'll give him as good as I get."

"Very well, we'll leave it at that for now," Dumbledore replied. "Now, on to other matters." Dumbledore paused for a moment, then conjured a tray with two bowls of stew and some bread, along with glasses of pumpkin juice. "I noticed that the lunch break has begun. We may as well eat while we have our chat. Do you know what was in the letter your uncle wrote to us?"

"I assumed that if I had opened it, it would have exploded and eaten me, or something equally dire," Dave answered as he started on his stew.

"Paranoid, are we?"

"I was, after all, partially raised by the poster child for paranoia!"

"Hmm, good point," Dumbledore chuckled, then continued a bit more seriously, "Well, his letter stated that, first of all, you haven't been sleeping well lately. Can you tell me what is troubling you? Pain? Bad dreams?"

"It's not pain, it's a dream, but it's funny, The Dream isn't a nightmare!"

"The dream, you mean it's always the same?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Yes. I'm running through a forest. It's like I'm hunting or tracking something. I know it's just a dream, but when I wake up, I'm exhausted as if I had actually been running," Dave finished, looking as puzzled as Dumbledore did. "Do I belong here?"

"Of course you do. I knew your father, and respected him for his career choice. I'm sure you know he had no need to work," Dumbledore said, alluding to the fortune Dave's father had left him. "He was a very noble man. He felt a need to contribute to the safety of the world and did so superbly. I'm sure he'd be proud of you." The tear that tried to escape from Dave's eye was quickly blinked away, but not before Dumbledore noticed and changed the subject. "This dream, how often does it happen?"

"All the time now. When I was younger it happened every once in a while, about once a month. Now it's every night. Do you think I might need to be taken away by medi-witches?"

"Of course not," Dumbledore assured him. "Recurring dreams can happen to anyone, and there are many reasons for them."

"Yea, but do they normally coincide with outbursts of anger? Or wanting to punch and hurt things?" Dave inquired.

"Hmm, not normally," Dumbledore replied, the twinkle gone from his eyes, "But that doesn't mean you need a visit from the medi-witches. However, this tendency towards a hot temper is the other thing your uncle mentioned." At this point, Dumbledore paused to think. Dave's comments had given him some ideas, but he didn't want to do or say anything until after he had contacted an old friend on the subject. "Don't let it worry you, David. Just try and keep a firm hold of your temper. Now, lunch is nearly over," Dumbledore paused to peer into Dave's bowl, "And since you're finished eating, you should run along to your next class. You don't want to be late for Charms."

"Yes, sir," Dave replied, gathered his books, and left the office to go to the Charms class.

During lunch, Lizzy noticed that Dave wasn't at the Gryffindor table. Professor Dumbledore was also missing, so she figured he was having a long talk with Dave. She hoped Dave wasn't in too much trouble. She sat down, expecting Hermione and maybe Parvati and Lavender to sit next to her. However, all spots next to her, and anywhere nearby, were quickly filled by the twins, Lee, and several other boys. Lizzy was rather startled to see them all apparently vying for her attention. She couldn't understand why, as she didn't remember doing anything to encourage so much attention from boys. At the same time, she couldn't help but enjoy herself. They were really rather humorous as they tried to elbow each other out of the way. It was all she could do to convince them that she could, in fact, feed herself. The other girls were torn between being annoyed at the boys and giggling like mad at the situation Lizzy found herself in.

The Charms class was buzzing with excitement. After calling the roll, Professor Flitwick addressed the class,

"Does everybody have their wands?" All eyes turned to look at Dave. Dave just sat nonchalantly. "We are going to begin with basic wand movements," Flitwick continued, "Watch me, and follow my wand movements." The class did as they were told, and after practicing for a few moments, Flitwick said, "Good, now point your wands into the air, use the movements and repeat after me...Pyros Arcus!" Many students got small bursts of red sparks, but not Dave. A volcano of red sparks erupted from the tip of Dave's finger.

"Oops! Sorry," Dave said, somewhat sheepishly.

"Oh my!" Flitwick squeaked, "Please come down here, Mr. ..Murray." Dave presented himself in front of Professor Flitwick as requested. "What is it that powers your wand? Phoenix feather?"

"No, that's Harry's," Dave replied.

"Yes, but what about your wand? What powers it?" Flitwick persisted. Dave looked down, somewhat embarrassed, and scuffed his toes on the floor, before mumbling,

"I don't use one." For the second time that class, Flitwick tumbled backwards off his stack of books.

"You were raised by your godfather, correct?" he asked when he righted himself.

"Partly, he taught me a few spells," Dave replied.

"Please stand over in the middle of the class and show me one," Flitwick requested. Dave complied, then asked,

"I need a volunteer."

"I'll assist you, David," Flitwick said.

"Ok," Dave said, "Just stand there and point your wand at me." Flitwick, looking a bit puzzled, did as Dave requested. Dave gestured with his arm, then while pointing his finger at Flitwick, commanded with a force beyond his years, "Expelliarmus!" Professor Flitwick was not ready for the spell Dave chose to cast. He was also not ready for the force with which Dave cast it. The spell blasted him backwards and blew his wand out of his hand, which Dave caught deftly in his left hand. Again, the silence in the class was deafening. Dave returned to his seat after assisting Professor Flitwick to a more upright position and restoring to him his wand.

"Detention, sir?" Dave inquired.

"Detention?" Flitwick repeated, puzzled. "Whatever for? On the contrary, ten points to Gryffindor. Not only did you show me a charm like I asked, it was one that is normally beyond most first year students."

"Yes, well, I have to live up to my godfather's expectations," Dave replied, "He taught me that spell when I was six. He said that there might be people out to kill me."

"Yes, he would say that," Flitwick said. "Very well, let us return to the lesson." The others settled down and the rest of the class passed uneventfully. Their final class of the day was Defense Against the Dark Arts. As they walked into the classroom, Lizzy was surprised to see a look of pain shoot across Dave's face.

"David?" she asked, concerned, "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," he replied, "It's just a bit of a headache." With that the two of them went and sat down. As Professor Quirrell began the lesson, however, Dave raised his hand.

"Y-yes, M-Mr. M-m-murray?" Quirrell asked.

"May I be excused, please?" Dave said, "I have a bad headache."

"Oh, of c-course," Quirrell stuttered, "G-go s-s-see M-madam P-p-pomfrey."

"Thank you, sir," Dave said, gathered his stuff, and left the class. Once outside the room, his head immediately felt a lot better. He thought for a moment, then turned and went back up to the DADA classroom door. Again, his head started to pound. He turned again and headed off towards the Hospital Wing.