Disclaimer: As far as I know, the plot is mine, but the majority of the characters aren't.
A/N: Who is the second main character? Well, if you haven't seen the names a few inches up (glances), then look down… It's Draco! Oh, I just love the little bastard!
"M-Master D-Draco?" a rather underfed and downtrodden house-elf stuttered out as he stood in the doorway, trembling beneath his dingy pillowcase. He peered nervously into the opulent bedroom after having appeared just outside the doorway. Dobby knew far better than to pop in onto the pristine white carpets. He still bore the scorch marks from shutting his ears in the oven door as punishment last time.
The young master himself was sitting on the window seat, his icy blue eyes glazed with a sullen boredom as he stared down at the manor grounds. He didn't seem to hear the house elf, and so Dobby called out again, flinching as he did so.
"What is it?" the eleven-year-old Wizard finally snapped.
"D-Dobby is s-supposed to tell young master that his mother is wanting him down in the foyer, Sir."
"I'll be down in a moment."
Draco Malfoy glared after the house-elf as it disappeared with a frightened squeak. That filthy creature had always annoyed him. Dibby, or something, was its name, and the elf was entirely too independent for a servant. Draco had long since stopped being amused by the eccentricities of his father's personal elf. The way it always watched him was particularly disturbing… as well as its fascination with socks. Draco would never understand why his father still kept one so mentally deficient. Maybe his mother could convince him to trade it in at Knockturn for a newer, less twitchy house-elf…?
Sighing, Draco slid down from his perch (in a completely dignified manner, of course) and left the east wing to meet his mother. They were supposed to be visiting Diagon Alley today for his school supplies. It was about time, in Draco's opinion. If it were up to him, they would have bought his wand last year; but, no, his father had insisted on abiding by those ridiculous underage magic rules… Couldn't he have just bought a waiver from Fudge? The Minister had to be good for something with all the time they wasted currying for his favor.
Ah, well, it didn't make a difference now. He was finally old enough to get his own wand, rather than borrowing his father's to practice on the rare occasion that Lucius would give it up.
'I'll finally be able to practice those curses Father taught me!' he thought eagerly. 'It's a shame that Mother won't allow me to go to Durmstrang, though. I heard they have an entire course dedicated to the Dark Arts, and at least their Headmaster is an old acquaintance of Father's, unlike that barmy fool at Hogwarts.'
Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy never fought, especially not in public, but that summer they'd had an enormous row over which school Draco would attend. Lucius had wanted his heir to receive a proper education, in a place that didn't ban the Dark Arts, but Draco's mother had been adamant that he go to Hogwarts with that Muggle-loving Headmaster. She claimed he should share the same experiences they had as children. The clincher for Lucius, and the only reason he'd finally agreed, was that Draco's godfather would be able to keep an eye on him there.
'Well, it's not a total loss,' Draco amended to himself. 'Harry Potter will be there, after all.'
Like all wizarding children his age, Draco had grown up hearing tales of the Boy-Who-Lived. However, while others were told of his greatness, that brave little boy who saved them all, he had listened to rants about the brat that destroyed the wizarding world's last chance. His father was not happy when his former master was defeated, and by a baby, no less! The Malfoys' sparkling reputation also took a dive when Lucius was nearly arrested for being a Death Eater. Luckily, that twit, Fudge, was already firmly indebted to the Malfoys, and had no choice but to make sure any evidence against his most generous benefactor was misplaced before the trial.
So why was Draco so eager to meet Harry Potter if the boy was such a menace to everything the Malfoys stood for? According to his father, it was the perfect opportunity for his son to make alliances. If they could turn the savior of the light against Dumbledore… But Draco wasn't concerned about that, not that he would dare tell his father. He was much more interested in making friends with Potter. The ones his parents had set him up with years ago were complete morons. Vincent and Gregory made passable bodyguards but they barely had enough brainpower between the two of them to talk in complete sentences. Oh, and Pansy! He'd heard their mothers speaking about an arranged marriage… Merlin, he hoped not! Not only did that girl resemble a pug, but every time she visited the manor, it was a chore just to get her to stop clinging to his arm!
"Draco, there you are," his mother's cool voice broke Draco out of his thoughts as he descended the staircase. He stopped halfway and gave a small bow, as pureblood custom dictated.
"Come," she beckoned with one jeweled hand, "let us be off so we can finish before your father is due back."
She held out a blank sheet of parchment (Portkey was so much neater than Floo travel) and allowed him to touch a finger to it.
Hallie wandered down the alley for what was perhaps her third circulation. She was still in a state of disbelief over it all. Within the first five minutes, Hallie had tried to convince herself that she was hallucinating. It must have been a dream… Yes, Aunt Petunia would be along any time now, screeching at Hallie to wake up, and saving her from this nightmare of people in funny dresses and pointed hats. Another hard pinch to the arm did nothing to solve the problem. It only made Hallie yelp in pain, while several adults gave her a decidedly odd look before moving past in a wide berth.
Eventually, Hallie ended up at source of her troubles, and found a sign post beside the brick wall that she had not seen before. Apparently, she was in some place called Diagon Alley. 'Great,' she thought, 'my hallucination has a name.'
Wandering past several shops, Hallie took the time to stare at some of the window displays. Already, what she had seen did nothing to reassure her of her mental state. Huge black cauldrons (It was a little early for Halloween…), Billywig wings for half price (Billy-what?), and magic wands (…Were they serious?) certainly weren't your average market fare.
Walking past some sort of cleaning supply store full of decorative brooms, Hallie heard a man bellowing as he ran out of the pet shop, "Stop! Get back here, you little abomination!" The harried young clerk barreled out onto the street, waving his arms and wringing his work apron. A stream of hoots and howls came from the open door behind him.
Hallie didn't give the man's problem much thought until a small black blur ran between her legs and around the corner. Hallie remained on her feet even as her mystery assailant disappeared around the book shop. She did lose her balance, however, when a young girl hauling an enormous bird cage brushed past her shouting, "Daddy, look what I got!"
The cage (With a real owl in it!) swung right into Hallie's knee. She yelped in pain and hopped on one foot, which turned out to be a rather poor idea, as Hallie lost her balance and tumbled into a boy loitering outside the broom display. He cried out in shock as the two of them hit the cobblestones.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Hallie apologized, wincing as she pushed herself up. She glanced at the boy as he sneered and brushed off his black slacks and silk shirt. He looked about her age, though a few inches taller, with pale skin and silvery blonde hair that was slicked back neatly.
As he looked up and met her eyes, his expression softened slightly into one of cool arrogance. His eyes were a blue-gray, she noted.
"It's fine," he said, his voice sounding overly mature to her. He leaned casually against the glass window and looked her over with curiosity. "What's your name?"
"Hallie," she said, and blushed, wishing more than ever that she owned some clothes at least meant for her own gender.
"I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." Draco sounded very proud of that name as he held out his hand for her to shake. Hallie clasped it briefly before letting go. "Hogwarts, too?" he asked.
"Er…" Hallie trailed off, not sure how to reply.
Her silence didn't seem to deter Draco, and Hallie wondered if he was accustomed to speaking over others. He continued on in a slightly bored tone. "My mother's up the street buying my books. We're going to choose a wand next." He turned back to the shining broom in the window, developing a yearning expression that made no sense to Hallie; it was a bloody broomstick! "Then I'm going to get her to stop here so I can have a look at the racing brooms-"
'What?'
"-I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into ordering one later, and I'll smuggle it in somehow."
Hallie didn't say anything, not having the slightest idea of what he was talking about. Hogwarts? Wasn't that some kind of plant? And racing brooms…? Boys were getting stranger all the time. Hallie wasn't sure if Draco was joking or not, but his personality was enough to put her off. His tone of voice was reminding her more of Dudley with every minute.
"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on, either missing or ignoring Hallie's expression of distaste. .
"Um, no." Unless she counted sweeping the kitchen...
"Are you any good at Quidditch? I fancy myself a Seeker, or maybe a Chaser…"
'What-itch?' she almost asked aloud, but held back just in time. It was official. Either Draco was an escapee from the loony bin, or Hallie really was dreaming.
"Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked for my House team, and I must say, I agree. Do you know what House you'll be in yet?"
Why was Hallie meeting so many strange people today? Did she upset someone in a past life? 'Cause she was really starting to wish she'd stayed with the Dursleys. 'Now I know this day has been a disaster if I'm that desperate.'
"No," Hallie said shortly, hoping to end the conversation soon.
"Well, no one really knows until they get there, I suppose, but I'll be in Slytherin without a doubt! Imagine being sorted into Hufflepuff, though! You'll never find a more pathetic bunch. I think I'd just leave, wouldn't you?"
'I wish I could leave right now…'
"Where are you parents, anyway?" he asked abruptly.
"They're dead," Hallie replied in a tight voice.
"Oh, sorry," Draco said, not sounding overly caring, "but they were our kind, weren't they?"
"I'm not sure what you mean by that." Hallie could feel her teeth grinding in annoyance.
Draco's face grew noticeably darker with that. "A witch and wizard?" he suggested in an obvious tone. "Don't tell me you're a," his face twisted into an expression of disgust, "Mudblood."
"I'm a what?" Hallie glared, feeling slighted even if she didn't know the term.
"You are, aren't you?" he sneered. "They shouldn't even let your kind in. Nothing but a waste of space-"
What little self control Hallie had left snapped. While she wasn't a violent person by nature, she wasn't the type to sit back and do nothing, either. Unfortunately for Draco, there were no rampant zoo animals to distract her this time.
Pulling back her fist, Hallie landed a punch right into blonde's stomach, about the best thing someone of her stature could reach. Hallie wasn't particularly strong, but Draco's reaction said her anger was fuel enough. While he doubled over gasping, Hallie stalked away, a scowl on her face. The nerve of that… that… Hallie couldn't find a word to properly describe him. Hallie turned sharply onto a nearby street, not even glancing at the corner sign. If she had, Hallie might have noticed something different about this branch of Diagon Alley.
Hallie's blood was racing with leftover adrenaline, and quite a bit of satisfaction. It felt good to fight back for once; Dudley's fat tended to rebound any hits, and his friends were always there to pound Hallie right after. Still, a little physical retribution was very therapeutic; she could already feel the day's nervous tension draining away, and life seemed so much brighter all of a sudden. Hallie didn't get very far in her positive thinking before karma made sure to steal the last laugh. Something familiar dashed out of the shadows and collided with her legs, sending Hallie head over heals. She landed rather painfully on her back, although a barrel of something squishy (she didn't want to know what) broke her fall.
Groaning, Hallie blinked up at the sky, cursing her poor luck today. Suddenly, something black and furry blocked her sight, and a tiny paw batted her nose. As she sat up, a small, dark creature slid into her lap. Finally getting a good look at the menace, she figured it to be some kind of cat. It was abnormally small and sleek compared to the ones she'd always encountered at Mrs. Figg's house. It blinked up at her innocently with oddly multicolored eyes. One minute they were gold, the next they flashed an electric blue. Large, almost bat-like, pointed ears rested on its head, and a long forked tail whipped behind it.
Dimly, Hallie registered a man grumbling over his spilled barrel. He pulled out a stick, grasping it much like Tom had, and waved it over the mess. She gasped when the contents on the ground flew up in one mass and settled neatly into the upright barrel. Shaking her head in disbelief, Hallie started to walk off, not noticing her tagalong.
Right before she tripped again, Hallie caught sight of it. The cat gave an odd bounce out of the way as she moved to kick it. Turning to glare at it, Hallie snarled, "Are you trying to kill me?"
The cat's only response was to flash its eyes a ferocious red before switching back to a disarming hazel. Seriously disturbed, Hallie tried to step around it until she heard a voice calling down the street. The young man from earlier was coming down the street, treading hesitantly as though nervous of the very ground he walked on. Hallie got the impression that it was only worry for his job that lead him to brave the area, calling out, "Here, Kitty! C'mon, you little- I mean, wonderful dear… I have fish…? Please, come back- My boss is gonna kill me!" The tiny cat hissed and began to back away. When Hallie's eyes flicked down to it, the cat mewed hopefully.
Hallie didn't know how such a sinister-looking creature could appear so sweet… The eyes stared up imploringly at her… It just wasn't natural…
"Oh fine!" Hallie threw up her hands in defeat. I give up, you can come! Just stop doing that!"
She could have sworn that thing was smirking at her. The cat meowed happily and jumped onto her shoulder in one bound, draping its long tail around her collarbone like a necklace.
As the desperate man (and Hallie felt a little guilty about that) came closer to Hallie and her now obviously stolen pet, she ducked into one of the winding paths that branched off of this street and took off.
The further Hallie traveled into the dark alley, the more she regretted it. After several wrong turns, she was sure of only one thing. She was utterly lost. The cat was looking unusually tense as it stood perched on her shoulders, using her head to support its front paws as it scanned their surroundings. Maybe he was good for something after all.
A loud rustling caused Hallie to jump. Turning around in dread, she saw an old woman draped in heavy shawls and a dirty cloak. What Hallie could glimpse of her face showed she was ancient, with thick, leathery skin hanging in wrinkly folds. A few wisps of stringy white hair escaped her cloak, hanging over an empty eye socket, while her single piercing eye watched Hallie. She grinned at Hallie with a mouthful of broken, yellowed teeth, and held out a wicker basket.
"Would you like to buy anything, Dearie?" she asked in a raspy voice, rattling her wares, which Hallie now realized were numerous human fingernails.
"Um, n-no th-thank you," she stuttered, taking a few steps back. "I'm afraid I don't have money on me…"
"Are you sure…?" The wrinkled hag glided toward Hallie, seeming far more agile than some her age should be.
Hallie gulped and started to back away. Her eyes darted around, hoping to find some sort of help. Unfortunately, the alley was deserted but for the occasional peddler, and none of them seemed to fit the bill for a good samaritan. Hallie bumped into a rubbish bin and her fingers scrabbled for the lid, hoping it would do as a weapon.
"Do not fret, Dearie… I won't hurt you…" A gnarled hand was reaching for Hallie now, seemingly unconcerned by the metal lid Hallie was holding up like a shield. The cat on her head began growling.
"Stay away from her!" a new voice yelled out, startling both Hallie and the old woman. A man stepped forward, having just exited one of the nearby shops, and brandished his stick as he shouted words Hallie didn't understand. The woman dropped her tray as a bright light streamed towards her, and fled back into the shadows with a hoarse wail.
Hallie was grateful for his interference, but she didn't let her guard drop as she turned to her savior. Bright amber eyes looked down on her, seeming to glow with their own inner light. His pale and drawn face broke into a soft smile, and the man offered his hand. "Come, we should get you out of here."
"Are you sure your alright?" the man, who'd introduced himself as Remus Lupin, asked a shaken Hallie once more as they reentered Diagon Alley. In proper lighting, she was able to observe her rescuer better. He was very thin, but Hallie wasn't one to talk, and of an average height. His clothing was rather subdued compared to anyone else Hallie had seen that afternoon, although his tweed jacket and pants were looking a pit patched. The shadows beneath his eyes as well as the flecks of grey in his sandy brown hair suggested that Mr. Lupin was much older, but Hallie thought he was somewhere in his thirties. She did have to wonder what had left him so ragged, but, despite his appearance, he seemed like a kind person.
"I'm fine," Hallie nodded in exhasperation, nearly dislodging the cat. Her new friend had seemed wary of the man at first, as if he were a danger, but it had eventually backed down and taken to watching him through narrowed yellow eyes.
Mr. Lupin gave a tired grin. "That's good. You really should take care not to go down there; nasty place, certainly not for a young girl to wander on her own."
"I can take of myself!" Hallie protested.
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you can," he said, humoring her.
Hallie crossed her arms and pouted. "Well, what were you doing down there?"
Mr. Lupin didn't look directly at her as he replied, "I was purchasing some of the ingredients for a medication I take. I'm afraid they're rather hard to find anywhere else." When he saw the concern on her face, he changed the subject. "Where are your parents? Maybe we can get you back to them. I'm sure they're worried sick."
Hallie felt of pang of hurt. "No, they died a long time ago. I came here by myself, wherever here is…" she trailed off, frowning once more.
"Are you a Muggleborn?" he asked suddenly, as though it made the situation much clearer.
"Is that a bad thing?" she asked, perhaps more sharply than she meant to.
"Of course not!" Mr. Lupin sounded shocked that she would think so.
"Oh," Hallie looked down in embarrassment. "Uh… then what is it?"
"You don't know?" He sounded more confused than ever. "Didn't you get your letter?"
Seeing Hallie's blank look, Mr. Lupin sighed, "I don't think I'm the right person to tell you. We'll get a hold of… an acquaintance of mine. He'll explain things better than I can."
Mr. Lupin led her back toward the Leaky Cauldron, laughing when Hallie starting cheering at the open brick wall. He told her that was certainly a new reaction to the gateway. Taking her hand, he led her toward the large fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, nodding at Tom as they passed.
He reached for the mantle, pulling down a small pot. He opened it up, revealing a fine, glittering powder, and then threw a pinch of it into the fire. Hallie wondered why it was lit in the middle of July. She lost that train of thought, though, when the man got down on his knees and shoved his head into the emerald flames. Hallie released a muffled scream until she realized he wasn't burning. In fact, she couldn't see his head at all. It was as though it had vanished completely from his body.
Soon enough, the rest of Mr. Lupin reappeared, standing up and brushing the soot off his clothes. He grinned apologetically at the open look of relief on Hallie's face. "Albus said to just send you through to his office." He stood back and held the jar out expectantly.
Glancing between the fire and Mr. Lupin, Hallie opened her mouth. "You have got to be kidding me."
After a short debate, and Mr. Lupin swearing her safety, Hallie agreed to go through the fireplace. She paused when he didn't try to follow her. "Aren't you coming with me?"
"I'm sorry, Hallie. It was a pleasure meeting you, but I really must be going now." He sounded genuinely sorry, so Hallie nodded in understanding.
"Well, I hope we meet again…?" She gazed at him questioningly. Mr. Lupin really was the first adult to ever treat Hallie so well, and she didn't want to forget him altogether. It might have seemed odd, after only knowing him for an hour or so, but something about him felt so… comforting.
Mr. Lupin dispelled her fears by gathering her in a brief hug. It didn't last very long, and then he said, "I would like that. Let's just be sure to meet up somewhere other than Knockturn Alley, alright?"
"Yeah," Hallie grinned. Then she flung the powder into the grate and stepped forward. She spoke in a clear voice, as she'd been told, and noticed the cat scurrying to get beneath her baggy shirt for protection. "Hogwarts, the Headmaster's Office!"
It was a quick but nauseating journey as she spun around in the flames. She finally came flying out and skidded onto a deep blue carpet. Hallie heard a mewling protest from beneath her, until the cat found respite by squirming out of her sleeve.
Groaning on the floor, and wondering just how many bruises she had collected that day, Hallie heard a wizened chuckle in front of her. Peeking up through her bangs, she found a large mahogany desk with a man nearly as old as the woman from earlier, though not nearly as scary. Actually, his choice of clothing was a little odd, what with the purple bathrobe covered in golden stars and moons… but really, Hallie doubted anything could faze her after what she'd seen that day. To think, it was only this morning that her biggest concern had been not burning the bacon…
The old man came to stand in front of her and gave Hallie a hand up. He then beckoned Hallie to take a seat in front of his desk. As she did so, she stared around in wonder at what appeared to be his office. The walls were filled with shelves of delicate glass instruments that whirred gently, and every remaining bit of space was taken up by portraits of people sleeping. They were so realistic that Hallie imagined she could see the rise and fall of one man's chest, and even hear the nasally snores of another. A brass perch stood behind the desk, holding a pile of gray ashes and loose feathers.
"Hello, Miss Potter," the old man interrupted her observations, beaming at her as his eyes gave off a blinding twinkle. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Excuse me?" Hallie gaped at him. Witchcraft and wizardry? Wait… Hogwarts? Didn't that irritating little ponce mention something about that? Hallie nearly broke out in a wicked smirk when she thought of Draco Malfoy- that is, until reality reasserted itself, and Hallie's logical side broke through. Something very strange was going on here, and this "Dumbledore" just might have the answers.
"Would you mind elaborating," Hallie asked in a strangely calm voice, "because if someone doesn't explain what the bloody hell is going on, I think I'm going to scream."
Dumbledore didn't seem the least bit upset at her use of language. "It's quite simple, Hallie. You're a witch."
"I'M A WHAT?"
So much for not screaming.
REVIEW! Look, another chapter done already! What do you think? This will never be my favorite chapter, but at least I've gone back and improved a few parts.