Interview with a boy-who-lived
Right, so…last chapter we saw Lee being beaten up by two fully grown men (I hope Snape and Mad-Eye are ashamed of themselves!), meeting a couple of really camp mirrors, getting creeped out by a lady in a painting, and being hugged by a Bulgarian quidditch star. And if that wasn't weird enough for you, try this chapter on for size! Man-kissing very likely, indeed, most probably imminent (purely for gratuitous reasons, and little to do with the main plot).
Chapter four: Deliberation
After what seemed like forever and a day of hurrying after the medi-witch (my feet began to hurt just as we reached the bottom of the spiral staircase down from the hospital wing, and by the time we slowed, felt as though they were on fire.) Considering I was now in a magical world, I looked down apprehensively, lest my feet actually were on fire. Needless to say, they weren't. Talk about paranoia. I caught movement in the corner of my vision, and turned to see a portrait of grazing sheep on the wall – nothing much wrong with that… But, I'm sure I… Madame Pomfrey was busy fumbling in her dressing gown for something, so I went closer to the picture to study it.
Squinting at the bottom left hand corner, I could see a tiny scrap of vivid blue against the lush, green grass. The breeze running through the picture picked it up, and whirled it into the picture – it was a length of ribbon. I watched it, trying to fathom why this seemed important. Another eddy twirled the length of sapphire-coloured velvet around in a tight circle, and then dropped it on the head of one of the sheep, which bleated and shook it off again.
Since nothing much seemed to be happening in the picture, I turned back to the witch, who was now holding a crumpled scrap of paper in one hand, and running the forefinger of her other hand along it. I could see two columns of writing, and guessed that they must be a list of passwords. But didn't Neville get into trouble for writing them down at one point? I again wondered at the lack of tight security, considering there was supposedly a war on… "Aha, here we are," she murmured to herself, tucking the crumpled page back into her dressing gown pocket, and laying her wand on the head of the grotesque stone gargoyle before her.
Another flash of movement caught my attention, and this time I turned my head immediately; just in time to see a pale, slender hand with tapered fingers, reach into the picture and pluck up the ribbon. I stared, urging the owner of that hand to come into the picture – there were no other pictures close enough for me to see, and I cursed when Pomfrey beckoned me forwards to a huge opening in the wall. I had the feeling I was being closely watched, and I didn't like it, not one bit!
The sensation of stepping onto the moving, spiral staircase up to (oh Lord, I can't believe it!) Dumbledore's office pushed the mysterious painting stalker out of my mind. I immediately reached up with both hands, intending to straighten my hair. However, I just brushed against the bandages, blanched, and squeaked slightly at the pain this induced. The witch looked at me in alarm, and I just shrugged at her; she smiled absently, and then turned to look up the stairway once more. I returned my attention to making myself look presentable, smoothing down my skirt and hoping that the ladder in my tights wasn't too obvious.
I'd just started on trying to flatten the creases in my jumper when a huge, wooden door came into view. It reminded me strongly of the oak door that lead into the church I sometimes went to – huge iron nails poked out, black against the russet wood, and a large iron ring acted as a door handle. I allowed the medi-witch to go first, and fell into step behind her, reasoning that she was part of the staff, and so should be respected and allowed into the room first (really, I was just hiding behind her because I felt nervous again). She didn't seem to notice my trepidation, and a small yawn escaped her as she rapped gently on the door. I peered around her, apprehension causing huge butterflies to suddenly spring to life in my stomach and flap around energetically.
"Go in – I'm just in the dungeons – I'll be with you presently," Dumbledore's voice prompted, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. I could hear shuffling sounds inside the room, followed by a hastily stifled swear-word. Madame Pomfrey and I exchanged looks – she had her wand in her hand in an instant, and barged into the room, ready for battle. Looking around her again, I felt my jaw drop in surprise, and a guilty-pleased flush heat my face. OK, I think I might learn to like it here after all.
In the cluttered headmaster's office, on an overstuffed chaise-lounge, lay two men who were, shall we say, less than decently attired. Indeed, the one on the bottom was wearing nothing but his birthday suit, and had his head buried in the other's shoulder. The one on top was barely any better, keeping his dignity in rather tight underwear, and laughing fit to bust. The medi-witch just dropped her wand, a mortified look on her face. "Sirius, I'd expect this from you, but Remus! In the headmaster's office! I'm surprised at you!" The cringing werewolf tried to make himself invisible by pressing himself against the ex-felon; however, this didn't have the desired affect, as the black-haired man gasped, and then moaned, eyes closed.
Madame Pomfrey suddenly remembered that I was there, and promptly steered me out of the room. "Oh my, I can't believe – no decency – I – oh, my dear, I'm sorry you had to see that!" she spluttered, closing the door behind her, and then calling through it, "No more funny business – just get dressed, and get out!" I just grinned, enjoying the lingering after-image of the two men wrapped around each other. Then, I shook my head and felt disgusted with myself, EWW! OK, it was all right when they were just fictional characters – you can't slash real people – that's just disturbing! Even though they are really, really pretty together… NO! No fangirling of real people, bad, bad Lee! I mentally whacked myself with a rolled up newspaper.
"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this," Remus muttered a moment later as he sidled guiltily out of the room, followed by Sirius, who was looking pleased with himself.
"You just couldn't resist my charms, could you darling?" he purred, reaching out to grab the werewolf. The medi-witch next to me tutted, and he immediately thought better of it. Shame, I grinned to myself. OK, maybe a little fangirling won't do any harm… Remus, on the other hand, no longer seemed to find the dark-haired man as charming as I did, and proceeded to storm off down the revolving stairs at top speed. "Moony?" he ventured, taking a step forwards.
"Piss off you horny bugger," the other man yelled up, "Next time I get to choose where- OH! Uh – hi there Albus!" Remus' sounded strangled, and I could only imagine the horrified look on his face. Bumping into your employer just after having nookie in their office. That cannot be good… Casting a glance in Sirius' direction, I was surprised to see that he just looked amused. The medi-witch was still glaring at him accusingly, but he ignored her, and started off down the stairs as well. Just before he went, he winked at me, and muttered,
"Best go and console him after the terrible shock he's just had." There was no way you could fail to pick up the entendre in there. I nodded back, and managed a small grin; God only knows how I contained the urge to follow after him and attempt to somehow record them doing the dirty. It would sell for millions – billions even. Coherency left my mind for a while. I have read far too many fanfics in my time, because now all I can see are interesting scenarios involving them and liquid chocolate… Down the stairs, I heard Sirius greet the headmaster in passing.
Next, it was my turn. His snowy-head appeared around the corner, and he smiled genially up at me as he glided closer and closer. I smiled back, and ventured a, "Good morning sir."
"Good morning, good morning!" he replied, positively beaming as he drew level with Madame Pomfrey and I. "Ah, Poppy, it's good to see you – would I be right in guessing that I don't want to know what Misters Lupin and Black were doing up here?" There was a slight disapproving note in his voice, but his eyes still twinkled.
"You would Albus," she nodded – I noted that she seemed to have turned pale from the shock. I touched my own face, and found it still hot to the touch. I focused on trying to get my face back to a normal colour. "I'll just…just go and make sure they don't get discovered some students…again." The idea that this could become a regular occurrence lifted my spirits somewhat. Shut up you obsessed fangirl! I couldn't help it… The witch hurried down the stairs, leaving the headmaster and I standing on the landing outside his office. He gestured politely for me to go through, and I did just that.
He came in after me, and the room exploded with sound. "Albus, for goodness sake, can't you keep those two under control?"
"Was having a perfectly good nap until they started at it!"
"Oh, they're only young, let them have their fun-"
"You would say that, you old perv-"
"Can't believe – would never have dared in my day!"
"Albus, really, something must be done about them!"
"I thought it was sort of hot…"
"Really! I'm shocked!"
"Oh, hush, don't pretend you didn't enjoy it-"
"How dare you? I'm an upstanding citizen of-"
"That is enough!" the headmaster commanded, and all of the portraits immediately fell sulkily silent. I could feel them glaring down at me, as though I too had done something reprehensible. The many moving painted figures made me nervous – any one of them could be my mystery stalker, hiding in plain sight… "I apologise Miss Lucis – these old codgers tend to get easily overexcited." There was a loud 'hmph!' from a painting to my left, and I saw the portly wizard in it promptly turn his back on us, and start reading a painted book, rustling the pages loudly. "Would you like to take a seat?" He gestured to the chaise lounge that had so recently been occupied by, Holy Mary Mother of God, naughty thoughts, naughty thoughts!
"Urm – uh – no, that's all right, I'll stand, thank you." I concentrated on the weave of the carpet (which was a decidedly un-sexy beige colour), pushing the mental image of the two- Don't go back there, no, no, bad thoughts. You're in front of a very powerful wizard, focus on that. He could turn you into a goldfish or something with one wave of his wand! This didn't help much, because the idea was just so farcical that it made me want to laugh. I bit back the giggles, and watched the headmaster take a seat behind his desk.
"I hope you don't mind if I sit – old bones and all."
"Not at all," I assured him, shaking my head.
"Sherbet lemon?" he proffered a small silver dish of the yellow sweets. I shook my head,
"No, than you." My stomach chose that moment to let out a loud growl – his eyebrows rose, and he put the dish down on the table once more.
"Sorry, I should have thought… You haven't had anything to eat since you arrived: Dobby?" There was a sharp crack that made me jump, and a curious creature that seemed to be made of woolly hats and socks ambled over to the headmaster, pausing to bow to me as it went by. I caught sight of two tennis-ball sized eyes, and bat-like ears, and it fell into place. A house-elf! "Could you bring up some tea and something to eat for Miss Lucis and me?"
"Oh, no sir, it's all right, you don't have to-" But there was another crack and the elf had disappeared. "Thank you," I ended lamely. He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them, regarding me with those unnervingly intelligent eyes. Lazily, he swept his blackened wand hand, and a comfy chair appeared in front of his desk, opposite him.
"Would you care for a seat? One that was not so recently occupied?" I managed a small smile at the mischievous reference to the two randy men who'd recently fled.
"Thanks," I slid into the chair, grateful to take the weight off of my aching feet. What possessed me to wear bloody heels in the first place? I sank back into the padding of the chair, sighing slightly as I got comfortable.
"Comfortable?" he asked, now leaning back in his own chair, and gathering up a few papers that had been resting under a paperweight that looked suspiciously like a huge ruby. Blimey, he must be rich…
"Yeah, thanks, very," I answered, throat drying up again in the presence of the man. He studied the papers for a brief second, and then dropped them into his lap.
"Now, Miss Lucis, Professor McGonagall and I have been discussing your situation and ways to remedy it." This immediately caught my attention, and I leant forwards, elbows on the edge of the desk, chin in hands to listen.
"Did you come up with anything?"
"Well, I-"
Crack. "Here is your food, headmaster sir," Dobby squeaked, depositing a huge tray onto the table. On it was a steaming teapot, two delicate bone-china tea-cups, a small jug of milk, a bowl of sugar, a toast-rack full of perfectly done toast, plates and knives, and a whole load of spreads and preserves to put on said toast. "Dobby is hoping that sir and miss will enjoy their breakfast," the small creature bowed so low that his pencil-like nose brushed the floor – one of the woolly hats fell off, and he grabbed it expertly.
"Thank you Dobby, it looks delicious!" Professor Dumbledore chortled.
"Yes, thank you very much," I agreed. I seem to be saying thank you a lot recently… Ah well, dad would be proud of how polite I'm being… The thought of my dad, combined with the crack as the house-elf disappeared for the second time, snapped me back to the conversation at hand. "Sir?" I ventured, as he poured amber-coloured tea into both cups. "You were telling me about ways to help with my situation?" I prompted as he handed one of the cups to me. I took it, and drank it as it was – I've never been able to stand milk in tea…
"Ah, yes – well, not as such, I'm afraid. We have a few ideas, but we're honestly stumped. Having searched through the library, we can't find one incident anything like yours to compare with." I sagged in the chair, and put my cup down, in danger of spilling all the tea, I was shaking so badly.
"I see," I said morosely.
"I'm sorry," he murmured consolingly, also putting his own cup down. He leant forwards over the desk and caught my eye as I looked up again. "However, just because we haven't managed to find anything in our library doesn't mean that all hope is lost. I've sent messages to friends and associates of mine to see if they can find anything that may help. Until then, I believe that the best course of action would be for you to stay here."
"But- I- But…" I began, but couldn't actually think of anything to say. "That's…very kind of you – I wouldn't want to put you out-" He just waved his un-injured hand dismissively,
"No bother, no bother at all, I assure you! And, considering your talent for occlumency, I believe some lessons wouldn't go amiss." I froze and stared at him. "Of course, you'd have to start from the bottom, but I believe you should pick it up fairly well."
"You – you're offering me a…a place here…as a student?" I breathed, gripping the arms of the chair so hard that I could see my knuckles turning white.
"That's the long and the short of it, yes," he nodded, though the smile had fallen slightly at my less-than-enthusiastic reaction. He tried to convince me of the idea, "You have a rare gift, and it would be a shame to waste it – with training, it could prove very useful."
Useful for whom? I thought darkly, looking at my lap and frowning. "I can't," I said simply through gritted teeth.
"Ungrateful little mudbloo-"
"Silencio!" the headmaster jabbed towards a painting of a shrewd looking man with grizzled black hair and a thin face. "Phineas, if you ever use that disgusting word again, I swear there'll be one less painting of you in the world!" The man just glared at him murderously, and then disappeared from the frame altogether. "I do apologise," he said to me, sounding embarrassed and angry all at once. "He has his uses, but he can be a detestable fellow at times…" I was still staring at the empty frame, confused. "He'll be in his other painting."
"Oh," I nodded, supposing I should understand what on earth he was on about.
"Why can't you?" the headmaster picked up the previous conversation where we'd left off.
"I just…can't," I looked at the desktop. "Magic has…it holds bad memories for me; I wouldn't feel…comfortable…using it…" The blue eyes twinkled knowingly at this.
"It's done things without you wanting it to, hasn't it?" he asked.
"What?"
"Your magic – it has done things without you expressly commanding it to do so?"
"Yes, but…" I panicked and immediately threw up the same mind-barriers I'd used against Snape. When the headmaster didn't so much as flinch, I realised he hadn't been prying at all. How the hell do you guess something like that? He was nodding to himself. "How did you-?"
"Guess?"
"Yeah."
"It's not all that uncommon – many muggle-born witches and wizards find themselves unable to control their magic – it only gets worse as they grow older, unless they are taught how to manage that magic."
"I see…" I wish I could tell whether he was telling the truth or just spinning a yarn to convince me… I studied his face for signs of falseness – there was nothing. He was completely genuine. "So, if I just leave it, what will happen?"
"It's likely that your magic will become bored, and will do more and more outrageous spells to try and make you utilise it… It could have disastrous consequences."
"So it's probably best that I learn how to use it then?"
"Probably – though I would advise only to do so because you feel you want to." Oh, don't try and be nice, you know you have me backed into a corner you sly old man! "I would strongly advise it."
"I had a feeling you'd say that." I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face at his mock-guilty look. "So, I'm a student?"
"If you want to be – only temporarily of course."
"Until we find a way for me to get back home, right?"
"Agreed."
"OK then… Is there anything I need to do to make it official?" I nodded to the papers in his lap – he picked them up and shoved them towards me across the table, pushing the breakfast tray out of the way. "I see you planned ahead," I commented dryly, now calm enough to pick up my cup and take another sip of tea.
"Well, I had the feeling that you'd agree with me," he answered, now shamelessly grinning. He grabbed a piece of toast, and buttered it liberally. I read the pieces of parchment, and felt those butterflies beginning to flutter in my stomach again. Before I could voice my worries, the headmaster answered my questions through a mouthful of toast. "Don't worry, the ministry provides a fund for students unable to finance the supplies needed…" He swallowed, and then lowered his voice conspiratorially, "Of course, we're going to have to pretend that you're an exchange student of some sort, so they don't get suspicious."
"I see," I looked at him with a new sense of admiration. "That would take quite a devious scheme, wouldn't it?"
"I'm afraid it would – suffice to say, I don't think the ministry would be very happy if they found out."
"In which case, I'll ensure that they don't…from what I know of them, they're a bunch of bloody annoying bureaucrats." I paused, and then gasped, horrified that I had sworn in front of Dumbledore. He just continued to look amused, and pushed the toast rack towards me.
"I quite agree with you on that matter – toast?"
And that was how it came to be that I became a temporary 'exchange student' at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.
As soon as I'd signed the papers to confirm that I was indeed a French-Canadian exchange student (I decided that would be the most likely cover story – if all else failed, I'd just start speakingwhat littleFrench I knewand hope no one understood me), the headmaster started to draw up plans regarding getting me supplies and so on. Finally, he decided that, as the weekend was only two days away, I could make do with borrowing in lessons and so on, and go to Diagon Alley on the Saturday with a teacher escort. I felt apprehensive, and part of me wished that they'd find a way to get me home before I had to brave the wizard haunt of London. Whilst he was detailing this plan to me, I found a few things that he seemed to have forgotten.
"So, I think that's everything – you'd best go back to the hospital wing for now, and I'll see about arranging for you to start lessons tomorrow."
"Urm, sir, I don't mean to be a pain, but there are a few things I need pretty much immediately…"
"Indeed? Well, ask my dear!" I nodded and smiled my thanks.
"Well, to start, a change of clothes perhaps? And wash-things – that sort of thing…?"
"Of course!" he looked genuinely surprised. "How could I forget such simple- goodness, I'm getting senile in my old age," he chuckled. "Well, in that case…hrm…what to do, what to do…? I dare say there are some spare school robes and uniforms, but I'm not sure we've anything in your size…they're generally for the first years after all…"
"I see…well, can you think of anywhere else I could-" he snapped his fingers suddenly, cutting me off mid-speech. The look on his face made me half-expect him to exclaim 'eureka!' However, he actually said,
"I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner! I was going to say Hogsmeade, but that would require an excursion from the grounds – but, of course, this school never ceases to amaze…" I stared at him, perturbed and confused. He abruptly rose to his feet, and I followed suit, dropping the crust of toast I'd been picking at for about ten minutes. "If you'll follow me Miss Lucis, I believe I can sort out this problem for you."
"OK." I raised my eyebrow as he hurried out of the office – one of the female inhabitants of the portraits giggled,
"Don't worry petal, he may be a little mad, but he's a dear!" I looked at her, and then laughed,
"Thanks!" before hurrying off after the retreating silver-haired man.
…
Once again, my feet started to throb, and I wondered who's clever idea it was to make the school so bloody huge. We'd been walking for miles – it felt like miles. I even thought we'd begun to walk in circles, because the corridors were all beginning to look the same – we'd passed the same portrait of a woman with red curls and a pretty face several times now…
"Oof!" I walked into something very solid and alive. The rebound from the collision sent me reeling backwards, and it was only by luck that I didn't fall backwards and concuss myself all over again.
"Oh dear, are you all right?" the thing I'd walked into turned out to be the headmaster. "So sorry, I should have warned you – here, follow me." We must have taken a wrong turning, because he was heading back the way we'd come. I followed, and was nearly knocked into again as he turned sharply on his heel and doubled back again, staring a blank piece of wall on the left hand side of the corridor. I followed doggedly, something niggling at the back of my mind. This is familiar…but why? He turned for a third time, walked a few paces, and then smiled in satisfaction at the wall opposite.
I felt ready to write him off as a loon, and looked at the wall to see what he found so interesting. I choked when I saw a door there. A door that had most definitely not been there a second before. "How-?"
"Magic," he answered simply, striding over to the door and pushing it open. "I wasn't sure what sort of things you'd need, so I hazarded a general guess – the room will change to cater for your needs. I'll be back at," he consulted his watch, "ten o'clock, when the students will be in lessons, to escort you back to the hospital wing. That gives you just under three hours. You'll be all right, won't you?" I lingered in the doorway, looking at the cozy looking sitting room within in wonder.
"Yes, thanks."
"If you need anything, just snap your fingers and call for Dobby." I thought about telling him that I can't actually snap my fingers properly, but let it go. It didn't matter. "See you later then."
"See you later sir." He started off, and then I panicked, "OH! Sir, what if people see the door and come in?"
"Don't worry – only you and I will be able to see the door whilst you're using the room."
"Oh…"
"Ta ta!" I watched him walk down the corridor until he turned and was out of sight. Then, I turned back to the room he'd summoned up. The room of requirement, that's it! I knew it was familiar. There was a glowing fire in the grate of the small room, and a comfy, shabby looking sofa in front of it. Two doors led off – checking them, I found a bathroom, and a large closet full of clothes and toiletries. Excellent. Determined to get the hell out of the rumpled clothes I'd now been wearing for over seventy-two hours non-stop, I started to rummage through the clothes.
It seemed my previous enthusiasm had been premature. The closet was full of clothes yes…but these were the clothes of yester-year. I picked out a hideous floral print knee length dress, complete with sleeve ruffles, and sighed. "Oh dear…" I put the dress back, and continued to rifle through, hoping for something a little less embarrassing. After a few seconds of fruitless search, I remembered what Professor Dumbledore had said. The room will change to cater for your needs. "Well, in that case – I need some clothes I can wear without being mortally embarrassed."
I closed the door of the closet, counted slowly to ten, and opened it again. I grinned on finding a load of posters stuck on the inside of the door, as well as countless post-its with things like 'pick up the milk' and 'remind Emma of hair-cut at half five' written on them. My wardrobe! I started looking through the selection of my clothes, absently grabbing underwear and socks from the basket on the second highest shelf as I did so. I lingered longingly over my floor-length fuschia taffeta skirt and the blacktank-top I always paired it with. However, I then remembered that Hogwarts was a much more conservative place than college. So, instead, I settled on a pair of plain black jeans and a white and pink pinstripe shirt (predominantly pink (like most of my wardrobe) with white stripes). Then, I picked up a pair of flat black shoes (having learnt my lesson already regarding high heels), and added it to the pile in my arms. Then, I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste, and tottered into the bathroom.
Thankfully, things like shampoo and soap had already been provided, so it was easy enough to have a shower. I spent a lot longer under the stream of hot water than I usually would, allowing all of my knotted muscles to relax one by one. It's been a stressful few days, I reasoned as I stepped out and grabbed a towel to dry myself off. Igently driedmy hair with the towel, careful of the recently healed cuts and bruises littering my cranium, and then looked at myself in the mirror. Oh God, my hair is going to be interesting… There was a sound like a sigh, and a hairdryer appeared on the shelf that also now held a hairbrush and hair products. Score! Now this is cushy! I decided then and there that I could get used to this sort of thing!
…
After I dried my hair, I studied it from every angle, before coming to the conclusion that it had probably never looked better than it did at that precise moment. If this is the effect magic is going to have on my God-awful mop, maybe I do like it. I dismissed that thought quickly when the sight of my necklace (a silver cross on a simple chain) – which I'd taken off for the shower – reminded me of mother. She'd given it to me years and years ago, before… Stupid girl, how could you even think magic was- Idiot! I gripped the sides of the sink hard, and stared at myself in the mirror, hating what I saw reflected back.
When I couldn't stand to look at myself anymore, I finished drying myself off, and pulled on my clothes – in my haste, I managed to get the zip on my jeans stuck, and spent five minutes wrestling with the damn things before doing them up. Then, I shrugged on my shirt and managed to button it up wrong, meaning I had to start all over again… Eventually, I managed to get my clothes on correctly, and I brushed my teeth without looking into the mirror. That done, I exited the bathroom quickly, and went to sit down on the sofa to wait. It was only about quarter to eight by now… I wondered what I could do to pass the time.
A bookcase that hadn't been there earlier now caught my eye – I went over to it, and looked at the spines. One title immediately caught my eye.
The infamous 'A History of Hogwarts'. I pulled it out, went back over to the sofa, and began to read.
Only a little while later, the student populace of the castle began to stir. I could hear the pattering of many pairs of feet running along the corridor, and resisted the urge to take a peek. I've always been curious; sometimes it's hard to curb my enthusiasm, so God only knows how I managed it… I was surprised by how similar the sounds were to the ones I heard gong into college every morning – there was chatter, the occasional yell, laughter, and moaning about the weight of bags/ amount of homework/ the first lesson of the day, and so on.
If I were at home right now, I'd already be in registration. I wondered what time their lessons started, if the professor was waiting until ten to collect me… Though I suppose they do need to eat breakfast first, so…can't be for a while yet.
So far, I'd managed to read the first chapter of the book, entitled 'The origins of Hogwarts'. I'd known pretty much all of the story so far, but the pictures of the founders had been very interesting. Especially the one of Rowena Ravenclaw, whom I immediately recognised as: Blimey! It can't be…the woman from the bathroom… In the picture of the book, she was twirling a blue ribbon around and around her tapered fingers… OK, this is just creepy now. I snapped the book shut, her eyes too searching for my liking. But why would she be following me anyway? I couldn't think of any reason; unless of course they still thought me a spy.
But then, why would they have offered me a place – oh God, I'm a student! It sounds stupid, I know, but the fact hadn't really sunk in. I was still half-expecting to wake up and find that this had all been some sort of mad dream. I can only hope… Agitatedly, I slipped the heavy tome from my lap and rose from the sofa. It was now only quarter past eight. How to amuse myself for another hour and three quarters?
Again thinking back to the headmaster's instructions, I chewed my lip thoughtfully, wondering whether, in the laws of physics, what I was planning to do was even possible. Physics? You're in a magical world! Physics doesn't come into it! It's surprising just how astute (if rude) my subconscious can be at times…
Deciding to risk it, I sat down on the sofa again, thinking that it might be better to try it sitting down…or something… Hell, I don't know why I sat down, I just did!
Anyway… I closed my eyes to concentrate (noticing it was now silent in the corridor), and thought of my stereo – and my mp3 player. I imagined them appearing on the floor in front of me, the light-up screen of the player glowing slightly as it turned on, ready to play. I also envisioned the shiny casement of the stereo, complete with protective plastic cover to save it from scratching.
Something nudged my foot, and I opened my eyes, fully expecting the magic to have worked. It had! Or at least, it partially had…
Rather than my shiny new stereo and mp3 player, a little radio had appeared, alongside a vinyl record player. I mentally shrugged, eh, close enough! Eagerly, I slipped off the sofa and started rifling through the box of records that had also materialised. To my delight, I found a huge collection of Frank Sinatra and Peggy Lee records, as well as a few more up to date things by Queen and Spandau Ballet. Gleefully, I eased out one of the vinyls by good ol' Frank, with tracks like 'Come Fly With Me' and 'High Hopes' on it.
Then, reverently (I'd never seen a record of Sinatra's in such mint condition, and I didn't want to damage it), I dropped it onto the turntable, and carefully put the needle onto the edge. The needle jumped a little as I started the player up, and then there was a hiss of silence before the orchestra started up to accompany Frank. Delighted with the quality of the sound, I rose to my feet again, and started to do that embarrassing sort of dancing you only ever do when alone.
Then, he started singing, and I was astounded – it sounded almost as though he were in the room with me! Wow – how amazing is this? I joined in, a little croakily considering I hadn't done any practice since starting my job at the paper. For the next hour or so, I was able to forget all my troubles and dance around that room like a lunatic.
Heaven.
Thank you so much for the reviews! Again, I'll express amazement – I only started writing this to stop the plot-bunnies from hopping around my room and eating my pot-plants, so…I find it amazing that people actually like this idea. I know OCs, especially female ones who arrive in an otherworldly manner into the HP universe are generally frowned upon…hopefully, Lee isn't going to fall into the trap of being too annoying/boring to live. (Plus, I need some way to let off the 'OMG, Snape is like SO FIT' steam, dangit!)
Note: He is. He's shmexiful.
Extra note: sorry the story seems to be moving so slowly – I'm a detail whore…
Extra, extra note: I know people are always edgy when it comes to writing Dumbledore - I'm no exception to that rule - I know how hard it is to write a character like Albus, so hopefully I haven't completely ruined him...