Disclaimer: Please see previous chapters. Harry and friends belong to J.K.
A/N: Thanks again to all my readers and reviewers. You are lovely and all feedback was devoured hungrily. As promised, we are heading somewhere...This story is a bit of an experiment for me, but I'm very excited about it. Please, let me know you're reading and your thoughts. It's a major help and the more I hear the faster I tend to write/ up-date!
Chapter Four: Birds and Feathers and All That
Professor Rubeus Hagrid was lumbering over to his beautiful hippogriffs, Fang in tow, when he saw her for the first time.
"What er you doin' down here?" He called ahead, waving to the tiny student inside the pen. She looked over at him unstartled, petting one of the beasts.
"Be careful!" He started, fearful of another incident following the Malfoy disaster. He stopped. "Well, he likes you doen' he?" Hagrid smiled in relief. This kid seemed to have some sense about her at least. "What's your name?"
She blinked a few times as if the question was hard.
"I'm Hagrid." He tried again, nudging his own chest with a thumb. She glanced down. He tried clearing his throat, looking awkwardly around, his great arms swinging. Buckbeak looked at him as if to ask what was wrong with him.
The child who had to be a first year given her size, shifted uncomfrtably. "No need to be scared o' me." Hagrid took a step forward.
She stopped stoking the feathers of Buckbeak and stared up at the groundskeeper, unafraid. Her eyes caught the light straining through the trees and clouds. Where others noticed only the gold shimmering there, Hagrid saw the tracks made by dry tears on her cheeks. They were familiar enough to him. He never had an eye for gold. Misfits, though, he could spot.
"Not fond of talking are ya'? That's alright. I'm used to it. Not a word out of these." He pointed his big fingers at the creatures in the clearing, chuckling softly. She smiled.
"Wanna give me a 'and?" He asked curiously. She nodded several times to his pleasant surprise. The small girl struggled with the feed bucket, so he poured half hers into his. "They love these as treats, though they're mostly meat-eaters, this helps those lovely feathers." He ruffled them affectionately.
The animals seemed to sense, the way beasts often could, that they needed to be careful with her. They did not take advantage, bullying the food away, but were more patient and gentle when they took food from her. Hagrid meanwhile swatted the rudest of his little herd back when they tried to steal it from him. "Now I told you not do be doin' that 'ector. Or you'll get nothin', you cheeky devil." He threatened hollowly, earning him a snapping beak.
She moved meaningfully, slow, as if little weights were hung of her thin limbs. He kept a close eye on her, as all around her was so big, and she was so alone, it looked as though everything around her—the woods, her clothes—might swallow her up.
"We best head up an' get our dinner." He said, returning the buckets. She brushed her hands clean, reluctantly glancing towards the castle. "Won't your friends be missing you?" He guessed. She shook her head, long golden ringlets shaking like a mane.
"Tha's alright." He tapped her gently on the back. Well, he thought it was gently, but she stumbled forward a little. "Sorry! Us misfits have to stick together. Maybe if you wanted, you could help me with some of my animals." He offered. Fang licked her hand.
She nodded.
"Well there, then! I could use some help, I could, having two jobs now. Got my hands full, I'll tell you." He bluffed. "Might be a bit messy." He warned her. "Do ya' mind?"
She shook her head, still smiling in the soft way with no teeth showing.
"Good, and if you can keep a secret, I might even let you go into the forest with me." He leaned over with wink. She perked up further at this. "But you'd have to be careful an' stay close to me, and it'd be best if you didn't tell no one I took you in there. Can you do that?"
She shot him a skeptical look it took a moment for him to comprehend. "Oh right." He snorted. "I guess you can keep a secret. I'll bet ya' know a few too. You're a tempting one to confide in, knowing secrets aren't going anywhere." He pulled open the heavy door for her to walk inside. She nodded again. Then, she disappeared into the sea of taller children with whatever those secrets were.
-00—
It was the first lesson with his new batch of birdies, Ravenclaw first years, that Flitwick had noticed.
"Now students!" Professor Flitwick said, standing on top of his desk. His first years quieted, nervousness retaking their faces. "Let's begin with one of the foremost skills of witchcraft and wizardry. Can anyone tell me what that might be? Anyone?"
A Ravenclaw with black hair raised her hand quickly. "Levitation."
"Correct! Ten points to Ravenclaw. Today we will be learning how to make objects fly!" At this dramatic flourish, he lifted his feather into the air with his wand.
They watched wide eyed, bewildered some of them, others hungry or curious. "Swish and flick, like so. Watch carefully. And annunciate. Who would like to go first?"
Several hands shot up at once, black haired girl included. He seemed to recall she was a Worhold. He surveyed his newest class, eyes falling on the small girl, the one with golden hair.
"You there." He said with a smile. She held her wand and watched. She said nothing.
"You there. Go on, my dear." He encouraged her. "Give it a try."
She looked silently down at her feather.
"Go on, it isn't so hard." With a swish and a flick, he lifted his feather in to air.
She nudged at her, chewing her mouth. She wasn't trying, not really. She slinked backwards into her seat, still not saying a word.
"Sir?" A boy leaned forward.
"What is it, son?" Flitwick asked.
"She can't speak, Sir." The skinny boy with lots of freckles all but whispered.
"I beg your pardon, my boy?"
He repeated. "She can't talk is all." He shrugged shyly. "She can't say the incantation."
"What do you mean she doesn't speak?" He shook his head, not understanding.
"I don't know." The boy shrugged.
The pretty dark haired Ravenclaw girl informed the teacher: "She's weird or something, Sir. There's something wrong with her."
Said girl slumped a little in her seat, but said nothing. "That's no way to treat a shy housemate!" the charms teacher admonished.
"No honest! She has to wait on someone to get in the common room and all."
Professor Flitwick looked at the blond girl, hearing the room fall quiet. "Well then," he tried, but words failed him. "Well then." But what could he do with her? Surely she was just shy. If Dumbledore had known she was mute, surely he wouldn't have…and wasn't this the girl who had no shoes on during sorting? He would have to speak to the Headmaster about this pupil.
"But I can demonstrate, professor." The pretty dark haired Ravenclaw offered. Thoughtful for a moment, he agreed. "Very well, miss Worhold. Go ahead."
The first year's confidence was not misplaced. He knew when someone had practiced at home. "Exactly!" He praised. "See? Impossible becomes quite possible. Go on and practice." He told the class. For the next half hour they attempted, all but one of his own house, to levitate their feathers with mixed results. Many were successful, and only one caught fire.
"Just watch the others for now, dear." He murmured to the littlest one before he had to dash off. "Careful Miss O'Ryan! You there! Mr. Havershaw you seem to have it well in hand. Ten points to Hufflepuff!" All in all, It was not a bad class. When class had ended, since the quiet girl was of his own, Flitwick went to her as the room cleared.
"My dear, why don't you give it a try? Swish and flick. Now, concentrate very hard. Swish and flick." Slowly, she pulled out her wand once more. "If you concentrate very carefully you may be able to do it without words." He laughed a little. "Some very practiced wizards can do this spell without saying anything." He showed her with a single swish. The feather hovered above the desk, then returned to rest on it again.
She sat again, staring at the immobile plume. She took out her wand and pointed it, fidgeting. Her eyes were intent, a strange almost yellow light brown as she set her chin on the table. She chewed the inside of her mouth, seeming to deliberate.
The boy who had spoken for her lingered in the doorway, watching.
"Try," the teacher whispered, ignoring the hidden audience.
And closing her eyes, she focused very hard. He watched the feather lift itself from the desk.
Whatever words came up at first he choked on them in surprise. Then the breath was sucked out of him as he saw around the room every single long, white feather lifting into the air and hovering their above them.
His laugh caused her eyes to fly open. Golden. Her eyes were golden, too light to be brown with flecks of what looked gilt.
"Wow." Came the soft breath of the boy by the door. Wow was precisely what professor Flitwick thought, having never seen anything like that on the first day even from a Ravenclaw, but that amazement soured inside him. There was a scraping sound, clicking, a faint clatter as chairs, ink wells, desks everything that was not fixed to the ground joined the feather in the air.
She had allowed herself a small grin just on one side, but when she saw her teacher's expression, when they were face to face, the smile fell away, and the objects fell all at once in a crash.
She hoped down, hurrying out the door before he could collect himself.
"Well done!" He called after her and the boy's pattering footsteps as they ran to their next class. But if he could hear the fear in his voice, she must have heard it too.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Please take a second to leave a review if you're ready to see more. Guesses/requests/suggestions/ & questions all welcome.