As we are all agreed that Harry Potter takes too long to come out, I decided that if we have to wait for the sixth book this long, that even after I read it, I will take it, bite it, through it around, and mutilate it just to watch it squirm. As normal, I don't own Harry Potter. Not only that, but I have an original character in this, as will most of my fictions. I am not Vixenrath, my sister, who has promised her "fans" that she will not add original characters. Therefore, I will add them to my hearts content. I claim her, I just don't claim her name; Vixenrath has that trademarked, or will one day. It's pronounced Mer-Dan-al-la. As soon as she finds a cheep publisher for Barns and Nobles, or Borders. Which I don't own. (dreams) 'thoughts' :memories:

1

On the train.

Harry felt that this train ride would be the longest he had ever - or will ever - take on his way to Hogwarts. The train had only been off for ten minutes, and his friends Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were already at each other's throats. Not like it could be helped. Though he'd be on Ron's side any day, he knew that if Ron was wrong, that Hermione would kill him, and if he took Hermione's side, Ron would try to ignore him like he had done during their fourth year. So he remained neutral, and if the quarrel looked as though it would turn to him to find the end of it, he'd act as though he had been napping, and didn't know what was going on.

As the war waged on, and five minutes ticked by, Harry really DID start to nod off, only to be wakened by the sudden quiet that filled the compartment. Shaking himself and looking to find the cause of the silence, he found his gaze traveling to the door, and stop to stare at the girl that stood there.

She was tall; at least six and a half feet, in long – open – black robes that had dark scarlet stains, which failed to hide her thin lithe figure. Her white T-shirt underneath had glistening red patches, and her long blue jeans were overlapped on the top of her slightly-heeled-strapped-up-boots. Long and thin; dark-skinned fingers were wrapped around the strings of her pack, and matched her thin, dark, long face. On one broad shoulder was a scarlet/gold bird – a phoenix. Her dark skin and her red bird were vastly contrasted by her ankle length – ruler strait – snow white hair. But none of it was more noticeable than her scarlet eyes.

Harry felt her blood-hued eyes fall onto his face – onto his own eyes. What he also noticed was that her eyes never strayed to his scar, as most people's did; but she didn't even notice it. Her eyes then moved to the faces of Hermione and Ron, then to the cat on Hermione's lap, and to the small energetic owl in it's cage on the racks above. Not about to go unnoticed, the snowy owl on the seat beside Harry hooted calmly, and the red eyes of the girl fell on the white plumage of the owl, and the thin dark lips curved into a hardly noticeable smile.

"Howdy! Would you mind if I share your compartment? The rest of the train won't accept me in, even if there's only one in the car, and I'm afraid that you're the only one left." Her pure white teeth barely showed as she talked, and her large starring eyes blinked for the first time since the door opened.

"Um… sure." Said Harry, and her small smile came back. Soundlessly; as though she were gliding; she came into the compartment, put her bag under the seat, and sat in the corner, starring out the window, the bird lit onto the luggage rack above, and both were silent. Minutes passed like hours.

"Who are you?" asked Ron, with out a thought to manners. She turned around rather surprised, and brought her hair out from under her, and over her shoulder as the bird fluttered to perch on her knee, then settle down to nest on her lap as she stroked it's warm feathers.

"The name's Mrdanla Whitcome, or, as the school would prefer; Professor Whitcome. The newest teacher of Hogwarts, at'ch your service sugar."

They stared at her. Was she the new Dark Arts Teacher? Since their last one was wondering insane somewhere in the vicinity of London, the position was wide open. This person was definitely creepy enough to be the teacher, almost like Moody, except that he wasn't really the real Moody, but an imposter. The job was complicated. This new teacher looked almost as though a small breeze would break her, and her eyes made it seem as though she were a teacher of divination, not protection. And so the questions began. One question, one answer, and a warm pause as the information sank in.

"How old are you Professor Whitcome?" Ron rudely asked.

"Nineteen." smiled Professor Whitcome, closing her eyes in pleasure. "And you can call me Mrdanla, unless one of the other professors are around."

"I can't place your accent, where are you from… Mrdanla?" Inquired Harry.

"I'm from Texas sugar. That's a state in the United States of America. I graduated two years ago from the Texas's Advanced Magical Education. Or T.A.M.E., if that's easier. Nev' really like that name, I ain't exactly tame n' all, but I guess it works."

"What's your bird's name?" Hermione asked.

"Charley."

"What are you a teacher of?" asked Hermione quietly.

"I teach-"

"Anything from the cart dears?" interrupted the familiar voice of the lunch-trolley witch, with her normal cart of sweats and treats. Harry and Hermione jumped up with gold sacks in hand, and Ron stood behind them. Harry hadn't realized that so much time had passed since the new mysterious girl arrived. Harry also didn't realize that they had become comfortable around her, as though she had been in their class and in Gryffindor the whole time, even though she had only met them mere hours ago. After they had gotten their sweats, and the small mountain in the middle of the floor had been started on, Harry turned back to their new friend by the window.

"So, you were saying that you taug-" he stopped.

She had not moved since coming into the carriage, and it looked as though the questions that they had asked her would be their last for the time being. She had leaned against the window, and had fallen asleep. She breathed calmly, and her phoenix was in her lap - also asleep.

Golden Fang

(:Summer was coming to an end, and the normal owl with the list of school necessities had arrived earlier that morning. Harry noticed that the list had been reduced, as he was now a sixth year, and one of his classes had to come to an end. He would start trying to become an Aurur, so even though he still needed to take potions (much to his displeasure, but it had to be done.) he no longer had to study divination. Which meant that he had a free spot in his schedule, and he could use it for practice, which he desperately needed. Quiditch would be a main focus this year, as well as helping Hagrid with Grup… in all actuality, he needed to take his mind off Sirius, his God-Father. After he had disappeared, Harry could think of nothing else, after all, he had died, and Harry could have saved him.

Now, school was a priority, and he welcomed the distraction. The letters he had gotten from his friends had helped, but there was always the space between. A black void of despair and regret. Only to deepen when he received letters from Dumbuldore, or Lupin, or any from the Order. Ron and Hermione had helped, and had even offered their homes to him, but he knew that he couldn't leave the Dursly's, Dumbuldor wouldn't allow him too. That was the only place that Voldamort couldn't find him in, so he had to stay put.

On receiving his letter, Harry immediately sent an owl to the Weasley's asking if there was a way for him to get to Digon Ally. They had picked him up in the middle of the night, Fred and George had apperated into his bedroom with their brooms, and showed him the way to the crowded street of witches and wizards. Harry's first stop had been Gringots, of course, as he needed to withdraw some money, and get his books.

After two hours in the shopping district, Harry had refilled his potion ingredients, purchased his books, and some new owl treats for Hedwig, and had meet up with Hermione. They had spent the last half-hour in deep conversation, sharing a giant ice cream, and playfully shoving insults at each other. Harry found himself wondering just why he had never seen Hermione as anything more as a friend before… then he remembered…:)

Golden Fang

Mrdanla sat up, stretched, and yawned widely.

"Sorry 'bout dozzen' off a while ago." She said as they all stared at her stunned by her sudden awakening and quick to words. "I guess that last night's raid took it out of me."

"Raid?" Harry asked without thinking.

"O'course, Dumbuldor wouldn't allow me to talk about it with you if'n he didn't trust you. The old coot has spies in all countries that old Voldie might be in, and it just so happens that we have more than our share in the States." They stared at her.

"You're one of the Order?" Ron whispered, looking around as though Death Eaters were pressed up against the train's windows as they spoke.

" O'course! You think that he'd hire a D.A.D.A. teacher without some one from the Order close. Don' you worry 'bout it now lil' ones, I'll watch out for ya'." She might have had more to say, but just then, the door to the compartment opened, and a blond-haired-gray-eyed sixteen-year-old stepped in.

"You know, the prefects are meant to rove the train weasel." Drawled Malfoy, his sneer unable to grow any larger. "And you, mudblood, you're supposed to be the smart one, why didn't you drag him around?"

Harry and Ron stood immediately, wands out, and glares in place. Draco drew his as well, and Crabbe and Goyle drew back their fists. Hermione tried to pull the two boys back, but over the summer they had grown taller then her, and had become even more stubborn than oxen. More insults were traded, and it looked as though hexes were going to fly. Suddenly, there was a six-and-a-half-foot-tall sheet of white that blocked the view of Malfoy from Harry and Ron.

"Well howdy. You mus' be a student here, sixth year by the look's o' ya. Le'mme get ya name so's I can get it on you're record that you provoked a fight, then I can 'ave a nice lill' chat wit' your 'ead o' house." Mrdanla said, smiling widely the whole time.

"Go boil your head you over-grown albino." Malfoy snarled.

Silence fell. As did Mrdanla's smile. She didn't stiffen, she didn't take her blood-colored eyes off the blond head, nor did she fall back from him as he raised his wand higher to aim at her face. Malfoy was shaking in fear; something about her eyes scared him and made his instincts take over. Without any hesitation, Mrdanla took control of Malfoy's wand.

Her hand shot out, wrapped her long fingers around his wrist, and held it above his head just as a jet of white light shot out of his wand, and disappeared through the ceiling of the train, lost in the deep black of night outside. The other hand gripped his elbow of his other arm. Twisting that arm behind him, she snapped his other wrist in two, dropping his wand to the floor, than putting him in a headlock. This was all done in a split second, and had stunned the car silent. Here, a six and a half foot girl with eyes of blood and hair of snow, holding the prince of Slytherin in a headlock, and a face devoid any emotion.

"Thirty points from Slytherin for attacking a teacher, and another thirty for provoking a fight. Now, are you going to let me fix your wrist, or are you going to set your cronies on us?" she said, her voice cold, unemotional, and had lost all hints of an accent. The Gryffindors stopped and stared as Malfoy nodded silently. The ice prince didn't even stop to think on how the new person could possibly know that he was from Slytherin, how she could have taken control of the situation so quickly, and how she could have possibly moved without any hesitation. It was strange, unreal, it was… amazing! What could have caused this girl, only a little older than himself, to punish him so easily without knowing who he is… or was as of last year.

"Yes." Was all he said, not daring to try anything under the nose of the new teacher that reminded him of Mad-Eye Moody in his fourth year. Not much could make him forget the ferret incident. He knew that no matter how many spells were placed on him he never would.

"Good, repairious. There, now take you're friends, and return to patrolling the train. I had asked Granger and Weasley to remain in my car so as they can teach me as much about Hogwarts as possible since this will be my first time at the establishment. Go, or it will be another ten points from Slytherin for failing to fallow a direct order from a teacher." Faster than thought possible, Malfoy and his team scrambled out of the door, and ran down the hall. Mrdanla stared after them for a moment, then turned around, smiled slightly at the trio that stared at her, and sat back down.

"Well," Harry broke the silence after a moment, and sat down. "that was… interesting."

"How did you know our names, miss?" Hermione asked timidly.

"Y'all mentioned them." Mrdanla waved off as the giant bird settled on her shoulder once again.

"No, we didn't." Ron muttered, "We never said our names."

"And you never answered our question either." Hermione whispered, "What do you teach?"

Silence prevailed throughout the carriage, almost tangible. The newest teacher's eyes were unnaturally blank, even after the fight with Malfoy, they could see at least one flicker of emotion. Now it looked as though she had turned off. She stood, picking up her bag, and walked to the door. Once open, she turned, and smiled just a small bit.

"You three are smart. You're right, you didn't tell me your names, and I wasn't told that Malfoy was in Slytherin. None of the names had been said in the… banter, and the point system hadn't been brought up. The train will be arriving in a few moments, you should get ready. Don't be late on my account. Thank you for accepting me as though I was one of the Gryffindors. Just so you know, I'm the teacher of Magical Maladies. And yes, it's a required course." With that, she stepped out of the compartment, and closed the door.