DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is to JK Rowling as the Invisibility Cloak is to Harry.
A/N: Hellooooooo! Welcome to my first fanfic. I wanted to address a few topics before the story begins.
As the main character, Cass, is a first-year while Harry is in his fifth year, I have taken creative liberty and just made up most of her class (only two are actually mentioned in the book, and both have absolutely no impact on the plot whatsoever).
Next order of business, the pairings. For Harry and his friends, I plan on having their pairings to remain the same. For Cass, she is literally eleven years old. She doesn't need a boyfriend/girlfriend.
Without further ado, let's see what happens when you mix brotherly love, Seeing the future, a witty eleven-year old girl, and one raven-haired, green-eyed boy…
UPDATED A/N: I adapted this first chapter into a YouTube video. I'm playing around with video editing, and since this chapter made a cool video concept, I tried it out. It's not the exact same, but still, feel free to check it out!
/shorts/OVAn4PKkJmE
To view the video, go to youtube-dot-com (FFN won't let me put the link) then paste the above text after it.
Anyway, I guess this new A/N was, in fact "further ado", so now without further ado, please enjoy the story!
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A rather large boy and another boy, this one very skinny, walked down a street. It was twilight, and the boys' faces were indistinguishable. They boys walked apart and looked to be bickering, making it unclear whether they liked each other or not.
The skinny boy was very upset over something the large boy had said. Suddenly, the skinny boy pulled something from his jeans, pointing it at the other boy. Upon closer examination, the skinnier boy had an intricately carved stick at the other boy's throat.
Blackness engulfed the scene. Cold seeped through the air, and the larger boy whimpered. A rotten, decaying smell filled the area. The smell of death.
Two figures approached the two boys. The figures floated above the ground, clothed in black and hoods pulled up.
Hands reached towards the boys. Blackened hands meant to strangle, to choke, to kill.
With a cry, the skinnier boy released a jet of silver from his stick. The silver took on a form, the form of a large animal.
The silver animal chased away the hooded figures. With the hooded figures went the darkness, the cold. The feel of death.
The boy turned and startling green eyes filled the dreamer's vision.
Cass woke with a gasp, her breathing labored. Just a dream, just a dream, she chanted to herself. Cass rolled over to the side her lamp was at and turned it on, flooding the room in warm light.
Cass blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light. She glanced at her clock. It read six-thirty in the morning. Cass groaned; too early to make breakfast and too late to go back to sleep. Not that she could. Not after a nightmare like that.
Swinging her legs off the bed, Cass grabbed a hair-tie from her nightstand. She tied her long, dark hair into a low ponytail before tugging on a sweatshirt and walking over to her small desk.
Cass pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil. Absently, she started to draw the dark figures from her dream. Just as she finished the sketch, sunlight peeked in through her partly closed blinds and Cass got up, stretching, and left her room.
She walked through the dark, one-story house, stopping at the back door. Cass tugged on her Reeboks and opened the back door as quietly as she could. She crossed over the still semi-dark yard to her favorite place to think: a tall pine tree that she had fondly dubbed her 'Thoughtful Tree'.
With the ease of years of practice, Cass scaled the tree, stopping about thirty feet from the ground. Propping herself on a branch— and making sure she was nice and comfy—she pondered her dream. I wonder what caused it, Cass thought. She didn't really care, though. It was just a dream, after all, no matter how disturbing it was.
Cass sat there for a few minutes, watching the sun rise. A slight breeze made the branch sway. Cass only gripped the limb with her knees, smiling as the branch rocked her.
A few minutes later, Cass's stomach rumbled. Time for some breakfast, she thought. Cass started to climb back down, thinking that she would make eggs. Grandma Joyce loved eggs. Oh, how she would yell if she knew Cass was up here, climbing trees before Cass's grandparents were up. Of course, Grandpa Jimmy would say that Cass hadn't gone high enough, that Cass was wimpy, and ruffle her hair to show he was joking.
The thought of her grandparents made Cass smile. Sadly, they weren't her actual grandparents. They weren't even related to Cass (at least, not that she knew). But they were the best people anyone could grow up with. Cass had been left at the fire station only a few hours old. A few hours! Who left a baby at a fire station that had only been in the world for a few hours?! Thankfully, the idiot had had the decency to call the firefighters upon leaving Cass in a blanket at the door.
By some twist of fate, Jimmy McGarther had stopped by to say hello to an old friend that very day, and, long story short, a baby girl had found herself in a loving and caring home.
Cass was jolted out of her reverie by her feet slamming into the soft ground; she had jumped from her Thoughtful Tree. She quickly hurried back into house, ready to make breakfast in bed for her grandparents. Cass had taken to doing this, as well as most of the other household chores, ever since Cass found out about Grandpa's…sickness. Cass refused to continue that train of thought. Her grandparents are getting old and need to rest and relax, not be working. That was it. Nothing else to it. Besides, Cass really didn't mind. It wasn't that big of a house and rarely any messes were made, so it didn't really matter.
Cass glanced back at her tree sadly. It was going to rain today, so Cass would have to spend the day inside, doing absolutely nothing and being bored out of her mind. Great, she thought. Don't ask Cass how she knew it was going to rain, because she couldn't tell you. However, she likes to think she has good instincts, thank you very much.
Cass went inside, closing the door as quietly as possible and locking it. She walked past her grandparents' room, stifling a laugh when Grandpa Jimmy snored in a tune that sounded suspiciously like Mary Had a Little Lamb. Oh, even asleep, he made her laugh.
Cass walked into the kitchen and turned the stove on. Without even looking down, she stepped over their ancient cat, Libby. She opened the cabinet, again being very sneaky, and took the kettle out for tea. After pouring water in the silver kettle, she set it on the stove. Hopefully, her grandparents would be up before the tea was ready.
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Later that day, as Cass was watching the telly, a most unusual thing happened. Cass saw an owl flying outside the living room window. An owl? It's the middle of the day! And raining to boot!
Cass quickly walked to the front door and wrenched it open, earning a curious look from her grandma. Ignoring the look, Cass peered through the rain, trying to see the owl. She turned her head to the left, knowing she would see it. Sure enough, a tawny barn owl flew up to the door, dropped an envelope at Cass's feet, and flew away into the rain, soon disappearing in the rain.
Cass just stood with her mouth open, shocked. What? Just…what? Grandma Joyce coughed gently, snapping Cass back to reality. She snatched the letter off the welcome mat, slammed the door, and muttered something about seeing a bunny out in the rain before realizing it was just a mushroom in response to her grandmother's raised eyebrows. Her grandma just shook her head and returned to her knitting.
Cass ran to her room and plopped on her bed, dying to read the mysterious letter. She wondered about the owl out in the rain-that was most certainly not normal behavior. Shrugging it off, she looked at the envelope. It was addressed to Ms. Cassandra McGarther, The Room Next to the Kitchen, 94 Seere Lane, Whitefield, Manchester.
Cass's mouth slowly fell open again. The Room Next to the Kitchen? she thought. How do they know? She opened the letter, her hands shaking, and read its contents.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry? Just like that, Cass lost interest. It was a prank. There was no such thing as magic, and if there were, there was no way to hide it. You could hide it with magic, Cass thought. Shut it, Cass. Magic, really? Have you gone barmy?
Her mood ruined, Cass threw the letter in the rubbish bin. "Git," she muttered, referring to whoever had sent that letter. That owl had obviously been trained to do that. Any other explanation included magic, and Cass just couldn't believe in magic. Not when her grandpa could use some magic right now, and believing in it would just result in getting Cass's hopes up. She sighed, dried her eyes from tears she hadn't known had appeared, and got up to go make Grandpa's favorite dinner: macaroni and cheese. How he loved macaroni and cheese.
OoOoO
Harry walked out of his trial, feeling intense relief. Mr. Weasley was waiting for him outside. Dumbledore and his bright robes followed Harry out. Before Harry could walk over to Mr. Weasley, Dumbledore grabbed Harry's shoulder firmly, but gently, turning the boy around.
Harry looked up to Dumbledore and was about to thank him for clearing his name when the older wizard said, "Harry, my boy… prepare yourself. Surprises lurk around every corner, not all of them bad, but some mind-shattering. So… be prepared, my boy." Dumbledore met his eyes for only a second, a look of deep sorrow on his face. Harry's scar flared painfully, and Dumbledore walked away, pausing only to nod politely to Mr. Weasley.
What did he mean, 'be prepared'? Harry thought, mystified. Suddenly not feeling very happy anymore, Harry walked over to Mr. Weasley. Seeing the look on the young boy's face, Mr. Weasley decided to give Harry his space, and led him out of the Ministry.
Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry pulled Ron and Hermione into his and Ron's room, shutting the door. Fred, George, and Ginny could still be heard singing, "He got off, he got off, he got off!"
"Harry, mate, what is it? You look so glum. You got off! You should be celebrating, not moping!" Ron said, plopping down on the bed.
Harry looked both of his friends in the eyes before telling them what Dumbledore had said after the trial. Hermione's eyebrows slowly pulled closer together. Harry could almost see the gears turning in her head.
Ron looked troubled, "What do you think that means? What surprises? What else did he say?" he asked.
"Nothing, that's it. It was so strange. He barely looked at me during the trial and only met my eyes for a second. He looked…sad. Very sad," Harry replied.
"You're sure he didn't say anything else? Anything about You-Know-Who? Or about that thing all those Order meetings are about?" Hermione questioned, swatting away Pigwidgeon, who was pecking at her bushy hair.
"No! I told you everything he said!" Harry said, exasperated.
Ron looked at Hermione. "Well, what does it mean?" he demanded.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Sure, Ron. Let me just get my crystal ball and decoding book, and I'll figure out Dumbledore's secretive hints."
Harry chuckled despite himself and said, "It means that there is going to be a big surprise this year."
"Or many surprises," added Hermione, all sarcasm gone from her voice.
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