Harry Potter and the Mind Mage

By James Milamber

A/N: G'day, y'all! Whoops, I think I just mixed cultures again…For those of you who like Isabelle, here's a whole dang chapter about her. Enjoy!

gpotter: I'm trying with the Michael torture, but it won't be for a while yet. Give it a few chapters…(smirks evilly)

aalikane: Short chapters means more updates…

Evansk: I think I'm getting predictable…lol. As to the English accent…the Aussie one is definitely better (coming from someone who has a mostly English background, and who has a VERY slight and so far unexplained English accent, and who has also never been to England) Anyway, I'll shut up now. :)

Alima: Everyone needs a little weirdness every now and again.

siriusblack08: Umm…lets just say I've run out of extremities to count the number of times I've read the books.

Melindaleo: I'm distracting you? I'll call a halt to construction immediately! Ah, what the hell, I'm having far too much fun to stop now. As to your guess…umm…no comment.

Isabelle led the Gryffindors out of the dungeons and into a disused classroom near the top of the marble staircase. She was all business as she warded the room against eavesdroppers and began to speak.

'I'm sure you all heard my little chat with Malfoy. Suffice to say I'm not very popular at the moment with some key members of Slytherin house.'

'So we figured,' Harry said.

'That little threat session of Malfoy's was about some orders he got from his father. He's supposed to try to infiltrate the DA and weaken it in any way they can. Apparently the Dark Lord doesn't want any opposition when he comes after Hogwarts – and he is coming, of that I assure you.'

'When?' Hermione asked bleakly.

'No clue,' Isabelle shrugged. 'Malfoy knows, but he wouldn't tell me.'

'Is there anything you do know?' Ron asked, his suspicion clearly showing in his voice.

Isabelle sighed heavily, leaning back against the wall. 'Not as much as I'd like,' she answered. 'I'll try to trick some answers out of Malfoy, but I don't know if I'll be able to. But there's more.' She looked into Ginny's eyes. 'I recognised the spell the Dark Lord used on you, Weasley. It's a spell that's been around for thousands of years, originating in Ancient Greece. Back then, wizards and witches were a lot rarer, and they were held up as gods – or goddesses, as the case may be. Anyway, this spell was created as a long term method to control their followers. It's seldom used nowadays because it takes a long time to implement, usually about a month, and the Imperious curse is easier and instantaneous.'

'So what did you mean when you said Harry had saved Ginny's life?' Hermione asked, looking intently at the Slytherin girl.

'The spell doesn't just command, like the Imperious curse does, it actually replaces the conscious thoughts of the victim with those of the caster. Voldemort was doing Weasley's thinking for her.' Harry remembered with a shudder when Ginny's eyes had changed to the serpentine ones of Voldemort. 'He could have commanded her to stab herself, for instance, and she couldn't have done anything to stop herself. The only thing that puzzles me about all this is that the victim has to have a strong personal connection to the caster for the spell to work.' Isabelle was watching Ginny carefully, looking for a reaction, and her expression turned satisfied when Ginny's face darkened. 'Don't worry, I'm not going to ask what it is, that's none of my business. Now, I have no idea what Harry did to drive the Dark Lord away, but if he wants to possess her again he'll have to start the spell from scratch. I don't think he's that patient, personally, but you never know. He's more likely to try a more direct attack, especially after the Azkaban breakout a while back.'

'Thank for the Intel, Isabelle,' Harry said gratefully.

'Anytime,' she smiled slightly. 'You may be a bunch of reckless twits, but I'll take reckless twits any day over back-stabbing, manipulating fools.'

'Are you going to be safe?' Ginny asked. 'You know, after giving us this information and everything?'

Isabelle shook her head. 'Malfoy wouldn't dare,' was all she said. She bowed slightly to Harry and quietly left the room.

'Well,' Hermione said after a moment's silence. 'That was interesting.' From his place near Harry, Sirius growled his agreement.

'Can we trust her?' Ron asked bluntly.

'I think we can,' Harry said after a moment's thought. 'She's not like Malfoy, or the rest of the Slytherins. Besides, haven't we already had this argument?'

'Suppose,' Ron shrugged. 'Just making sure.'

'Could the argument have been staged?' Ginny wondered.

Hermione shook her head. 'Just on the off chance that someone might walk by to hear them? No, I agree with Harry. I think we can trust her.'

Later, the four were sitting in the Gryffindor common room with Neville, Alex and Cassie, when there came a frantic banging from outside the Fat Lady's portrait.

'What's that?' A second year cried. Whispers spread throughout the room.

Harry motioned with his head, and he and his friends drew their wands and made their way over to the entrance, where a small group of students had gathered and apparently arguing over who would be the one to open the door and take a look. The melted out of the way as Harry approached. Cautiously he placed his hand against the back of the portrait as once again there were bangs from the other side, and Harry could have sworn he heard a female voice curse. Throwing caution to the winds he pushed hard, sending the portrait swinging into the wall with a crash. Standing in front of him was Isabelle, her usually immaculate black hair thoroughly mussed and her robes burnt in places. She was clutching her wand so tightly her knuckles were white, and there were black smudges on her face.

'Can I come in?' she asked, glancing behind her quickly as if afraid of being followed.

'Of course,' Harry stepped out of the way and helped her through the doorway. When she straightened, there were angry cries from many of the assembled Gryffindors.

'She can't be in here!' one fourth year bellowed. 'She's a Slytherin!'

'If you have an argument, you can take it up with me,' Harry said, calmly raising his wand. Immediately the room silenced. Suddenly tired with the constant prejudice, he scowled around the room. 'She's under my protection, so you can all shut up and leave her alone.'

'What happened?' Hermione asked Isabelle, looking the girl over anxiously.

'Bloody Malfoy!' the Slytherin burst out, stuffing her wand into her pocket angrily as Harry led her through the crowded students to a seat in front of the fire. 'He ambushed me in the Common Room. He and his thugs.'

'Blimey!' Ron looked startled.

Seamus and Dean came over from the corner where they had been working on homework and, after a brief nod to Harry, began herding away those who had been trying to get close enough to listen. They then took up positions behind the couches. Harry chose to ignore the fact that this put them into a position where they could listen themselves.

'House politics in Slytherin look nasty,' Alex commented as they all took seats. Neville, Harry noticed, sat as far from Isabelle as he could.

'I have some robes that might fit you,' Ginny volunteered, gazing at the Slytherin's ruined clothes.

'Thanks,' Isabelle said gratefully as she followed Ginny up the stairs to her dorm. When they returned a moment later, Isabelle was looking distinctly uncomfortable in Gryffindor robes.

'Much better,' Cassie commented as Isabelle took a seat again. 'Now you fit in.'

'Wonderful,' Isabelle said sourly, pulling a brush Harry recognised as Ginny's through her long hair.

'You can stay here tonight, if you want,' Harry offered. 'I'm sure McGonagall wouldn't mind.' Noting the skeptical look on her face, Harry smiled. 'And too bad if she does.'

'Spoken like a true Slytherin,' Isabelle winced as the brush caught a particularly stubborn knot. 'Damn, I'm going to kill that bloody bastard for this.'

As they all prepared to sleep, Harry couldn't help but marvel at the change in the Slytherin girl. Always before she had been totally in control, so self-possessed. Now she was almost seething, and she suddenly seemed much more real, more human. The shock of being attacked by Malfoy had obviously shaken her self-confidence a bit more than she was letting on.

They bedded down before the fire that night. Harry and Ginny took their couch, Ron and Hermione theirs, and Isabelle was left with the one usually occupied by Neville and Luna. Alex and Cassie took the floor, and Neville retreated up to the dorm with Dean and Seamus. As they all settled down, Harry felt Ginny's head come to rest on his chest, and it was as if he suddenly found something he had been missing for a long time. He smiled down at her as she watched him, kissing her on the forehead. He also totally missed the envious look that flitted briefly over Isabelle's face. One in the room was more observant, however

Seeing an opening, Sirius jumped up onto the couch beside Isabelle and curled up into a ball, his tail lightly thumping the cushions. Isabelle looked startled, one eyebrow raised, then almost hesitantly reached out and scratched the massive black dog's ears. Sirius turned his head and licked the side of her face, then lay down again. Encouraged, Isabelle rested her head on the dog's broad back, a slight smile coming to her lips.

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Isabelle got some dark looks the following morning as she entered the Great Hall for breakfast surrounded by Gryffindors. She walked at Harry's side, still wearing Ginny's robes, announcing louder than words where her loyalties lay. Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table; Malfoy looked livid, although the effect was spoiled somewhat by his shining black eye. Harry noticed that Pansy Parkinson was nowhere to be seen, and had to wonder what had happened to her.

Before they even reached the Gryffindor table, McGonagall intercepted them. 'Mister Potter,' she said crisply. 'Why is there a Slytherin wearing Gryffindor robes in your company? You know it is against school rules!'

'Professor, she…'

'Please, Professor,' Isabelle spoke up. 'There was some…unpleasantness last night in the dungeons. Harry was kind enough to let me stay in Gryffindor tower, and since my robes were ruined in the…unpleasantness, Miss Weasley offered me some of hers to wear. I haven't been back to my dorm yet to change, but I assure you I will at the first opportunity.'

McGonagall surveyed the Slytherin for a short while, then nodded. 'Very well, Miss Lestrange, but do not make a habit of this.' With that she turned and walked away.

'Nicely done,' Alex whispered to Isabelle as they all took seats at the Gryffindor table. Isabelle smiled slightly in reply.

Dumbledore stood from his place at the head table, and immediately all conversation ceased. 'Your attention please! Since Saturday's Hogsmeade visit was cut short of necessity, I have hired the services of Madam Malkin for the coming weekend. She will be bringing an extensive selection of robes to Hogwarts for the perusal of those who missed out on Saturday. Thank you!'

'We need to get some robes, Harry,' Ginny said, entwining her hand with his under the table.

'Robes?' Isabelle muttered, then her eyes widened. 'Oh Merlin, I forgot the Halloween Ball!'

'You forgot?' Lavender gasped from a few places down the table. 'How could you?'

'I've had a few things on my mind, thank you,' Isabelle said tartly.

'Well, it's not so bad, you can get robes next weekend, and I'm sure someone from Slytherin will want to go with you,' Hermione said bracingly.

Isabelle glanced at the Slytherin table, the shook her head. 'Unlikely,' she muttered. 'No one will want to get into Malfoy's bad books by going with me.'

'If you wouldn't mind going with a reckless twit, I'll take you,' Alex volunteered with a smile. Harry immediately recognised the words Isabelle herself had used the previous day, and had to wonder how Alex would know them.

Isabelle was looking at him suspiciously. 'I don't take charity,' she said finally.

'It's not charity,' Alex assured her. 'Look, you're pretty, you're charming – when you want to be – you have a sense of humour, you're clever, what more could a guy want?'

Isabelle's lips were twitching, threatening to form a smile. 'In that case, I suppose I could put up with you for a few hours. If nothing else, you're flattery is good.'

'Great!' Alex clapped his hands together. 'It's all settled then. Next weekend we'll go with Harry and Ginny and get some robes, okay?'

'Sounds good to me,' Isabelle said with a smile.

The doors crashed open, and James strode into the room, his face like a thunder cloud. He stopped at the front of the hall, and his eyes flashed.

'Last night, some filthy slimeballs attacked a member of my DA,' he said bitingly, his anger almost a palatable force. 'If I catch those students, they will be expelled. No exceptions.' His dark gaze took in the entire hall, lingering on the Slytherin table. Harry noticed in satisfaction that Malfoy was as pale as a sheet. 'Let this be a warning to all of you. Do not cross me again, or you will regret it.' James spun and stalked back out of the hall, doing a very good impression of Snape, in Harry's opinion.

'That's Dad for you,' Cassie commented. 'He's normally pretty laid back, but if you hurt someone he cares about…'

'…you'd better start running,' Alex finished, smiling in satisfaction.

Isabelle said nothing, but her eyes expressed louder than words that although she was grateful, she was also somewhat confused by James' reaction.

A/N: I had an interesting idea (well no, I stole it, but that's beside the point). If you could be bothered, when/if you review this chapter, put your city and country at the bottom. I'd be interested to know how many places this is being read in. If you hadn't picked it up yet, I'm an Aussie from Melbourne. Lets find out where you lot are from! C'mon, what are you waiting for! Besides, it's an opportunity to brag about how good your country is, even if we know Australia is the best, especially at Rugby ;)