Chapter Two: She Wakes

Upon reaching the seventh floor, sweating and exhausted, Harry led his friends to a statue of a rather unattractive gargoyle.
"Ice mice," he murmured, remembering Dumbledore's mention of the magical sweets from before. The gargoyle leapt aside, and the wall behind cracked into two, parting slowly to reveal a narrow cylindrical space that held a single granite step inside it. Encouraging the others, he entered the hidden opening and hopped onto the step. It immediately began to move upwards, curving into a stone spiral staircase. They joined Harry, watching the stairs snake up at least another floor, where it stopped in front of an oak door, embellished with a gleaming brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. Harry, who was closest, reached out to hit it, but the door was swiftly opened by their Headmaster before he touched it.

"Welcome to my office," he smiled, "Excuse me for the hefty amount of climbing you've had to accomplish in order to get here. Come in, come in!"
A great warmth hugged them as they entered, a fire was crackling in the hearth. Dumbledore spread his arms out in a gesture that invited his students to look around the homely room.
"Blimey, look at this!" Ron exclaimed as he spotted Fawkes, Dumbledore's striking scarlet phoenix, who was perched on the top of a sparkling golden stand. Fred and George were trying to bully the Sorting Hat into revealing his secrets, Hermione had lost herself in the adjoining private library, and Harry was admiring the sword of Godric Gryffindor, one of the school's founders, that winked at him from inside its glass case.
Their amusements were to finish, however, as Dumbledore clapped his hands together and gestured them to take a seat in the visitor's chairs next to his desk.
"I gather that you have reached the assumption that this young lady here is a Muggle?" he asked, peering at them from over his spectacles. They nodded. "You are correct. Professor McGonagall, Hagrid and I were just considering how she could have reached this state, and overcome our strong precautions. Miss Granger, I think you may have an inkling?"
Hermione looked as though she had no idea what the Headmaster was talking about.
"I hear you rather enjoy reading about the school, hm?"
Her eyes lit up as she understood what Dumbledore meant. "I do remember reading in Hogwarts: a History—" Harry and Ron smirked - Hermione quoted this book so frequently she practically worshipped it, "—that there were some Memory Charms in place, but it didn't mention anything about spells that would knock out a Muggle..."
"That is because never before has a Muggle overcome the Memory Charms. This is a first, as far as I know." Dumbledore's words were backed up by the nods of the past Headmasters and Headmistresses in the paintings on the walls around them. "Therefore, we must be sharp-minded and cautious. I will let you in on a well-kept secret – before now, only the Heads of Hogwarts have known about it, but I must divulge if we want to progress any further with this problem. There is another form of protection primed around the school, though as I said before, it has never been used. I used to wonder why it was even there in the first place. It is a Stunning Spell – have you came across them before?"
"Please, sir, they were used at the World Cup," Hermione sounded like a House Elf.
"Yes, Miss Granger, they were. They were set up here as a last resort, but I have checked our patient here, and she has not been stunned."
Ron looked completely lost, Hermione gasped and Fred and George asked "What?" simultaneously. Harry was shaking his head.
"But Professor, that's impossible..." he uttered in disbelief.
"One can block a Stunning Spell by using Protego, which acts as a shield, but of course this girl couldn't have used that – does anyone care to hypothesize what actually happened?" Dumbledore asked with a polite air that suggested he already had an idea. They sat mutely, looking perplexed.
"No? I'll share my theory for you, then. I have reason to believe that this young lady has a very powerful mind, which caused her to unknowingly defeat the Memory Charms. It is difficult to comprehend, but as she was about to be stunned, she conjured a shield without the use of magic and blocked it. The force would have been enough to send her flying backwards, thus resulting in her colliding violently with the ground. I judge that this is why she is unconscious – if it happens to be the truth then she will no doubt have been bleeding, so would you care to check the back of her head, please, Ronald?"
Ron, who was sitting nearest to her, looked petrified as he reached under her hair. He recoiled as he felt a tender spot on her skull; it was damp and warm. Glancing at his hand, he saw bloodstains. Ron explained what he had felt to the others, who turned to gaze at Dumbledore in awe. He had been spot on, and they had no clue as to how he had managed to figure it out. That being said, he was rumoured to be the greatest wizard ever to have lived, so he must have bucketfuls of wisdom. The astonished silence was broken by a tiny catching of breath from the Muggle girl; she was stirring.
"Our protégée is waking, but I'm afraid I must return her to a sleeping state, for it is time for the Sorting of our first-years." He murmured something incomprehensible whilst holding a hand on her forehead, and her head instantly fell back onto her shoulder, her lips slightly parted.
"I did like Miss Monroe," Dumbledore mused to himself, "It was an awful tragedy when she passed..." he sighed as he led them not back to the oak door that they had entered by, but instead to another exit that was past his miniature library. This door opened to another spiral staircase, one that appeared to be never-ending as they descended it. Dumbledore was still nattering about the film works of Marilyn Monroe, and was recounting a wild party they had both attended one evening in New York that involved an elephant.

After about five minutes, the staircase came to an end in front of yet another oak door. Dumbledore pushed it open – it led directly into the Great Hall. They could see the four very long tables, one for each House, crammed with students in pointed hats and black uniform robes. Their Headmaster winked at them as he headed to the staff table in front of them and took his seat; they too rushed over to Gryffindor table and sat down. Whispers echoed around the Hall and many people tried to tug at their robes, asking what had happened, who it was, why they had been involved. Harry and the others kept tight-lipped, understanding that Dumbledore had confided in them with trust, and not daring to break that.
Shortly after they had reached their places at the table, Professor McGonagall entered, preceding a herd of tremendously nervous new pupils whose eyes were darting around like Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks – fond favourites of Fred and George.
She unravelled a roll of parchment once they reached the top point of the Great Hall, and began to call names – the Sorting procedure had begun. It was the first time Harry had been present for the tradition except for his own Sorting, so he was somewhat interested in watching. After about ten names had been called, however, his attention had dwindled significantly, his mind wandering to thoughts about the Muggle girl and the enigmatic events to come this year. He was brought back to the present when the sumptuous smells of various foods wafted under his nose. The congregation of students and professors tucked in to a delicious meal, and superficial chatter accompanied the cuisine right until the last crumbs of desserts had faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean.
Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet and the buzzing of gossip ceased immediately.
He rattled through some notices, including additions to Filch the caretaker's 'Banned Items' list, the Forest in the grounds being forbidden as per usual, but then his expression hardened slightly.
"I am afraid that I must issue a word of caution. Dementors have been posted to guard the circumference of the school. They are filthy creatures; beings that prey from feelings of love and happiness. I have been given their vow that they shall stay far from the castle at all times – the only reason they were instated being for the best interests of your safety. Goodnight, then, everybody – and welcome back to another year at Hogwarts!"
He bowed slightly before casting a pointed glance over to the Gryffindor table, where Harry, Ron, Hermione and the twins were seated. They rose with the others of their house, but instead of joining the sea of students flocking out of the Hall, they headed to the newly-discovered door at which Dumbledore was waiting.

He escorted them back upstairs to his office, where Fred and George stopped chatting about Sirius Black's possible whereabouts, Ron and Harry stopped murmuring about the murderer's intentions, and Hermione stopped protesting to anyone who she thought was listening about the dangers of Dementors.
"I'm afraid you will have to rein in your excitement for a moment whilst we decide the fate of our young friend here," he said tiredly, gesturing them to sit down once more. "Please be considerate and follow my lead – I am about to wake her," He placed his hand against the sleeping girl's forehead again and muttered under his breath. At once, her eyelids fluttered open, showing them wide, almond-shaped hazel eyes, framed by long, thick eyelashes. She was an unconventional beauty; her appearance was elfin.
She gasped as she came back to full consciousness. Her eyes flicked from Dumbledore, to the others, and finally to his office. She looked startled, like a rabbit caught in the headlamps of a car.
"Hush, now, don't be upset – we found you unconscious on the ground just over an hour ago, we've been waiting for you to come around... how is your head?" Dumbledore sounded concerned, but spoke in the most natural, soothing tone one could have imagined.
"A bit sore, I guess... where am I?" her voice was musical with a sweet, lilting Southern Ireland cadence. Her eyes had now rested on the strange silver objects on Dumbledore's desk that were emitting small puffs of blue smoke. Dumbledore sighed.
"You are safe, and that is all that matters – these children are going to escort you to the hospital wing where our matron can help you get some rest."
"I hate to sound rude, sir, but where am I and who are you?" She looked frightened and worried, her teeth chattering. George stood up and strode over to her, removing his school robe.
"I'm George, and you must be freezing," he smiled, "here – throw this on and let's get going." After she had put the robe on, the girl yawned and seemed to be too tired to resume her questioning as George guided her to the door.
"'Scuse me," she murmured apologetically. "I'm Sami – Samantha – O'Rourke..." she nearly tripped and fell down the stairs at this point; George had to fling out his arms to steady her. She removed the white heels from her feet and carried them for the rest of the journey to the hospital wing, walking barefoot.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Fred decided to hang back for a minute, mainly to find out what Dumbledore's next actions would be, but also to let Sami have some space and not flood her with many new acquaintances at once.
"Professor, I was thinking before... is she like the opposite of a Squib?" Harry asked. A Squib was a term for someone born into a wizarding family that showed no evidence of being magic themselves. He and the others had discovered that Argus Filch, the caretaker, was a Squib when they found documents on his desk for a Kwikspell course.
"You know, my boy, you might be right. I presume that tomorrow she will wish to be collected by family, but this occurrence is far too extraordinary to overlook..."
"But Professor, you're not suggesting she stay at Hogwarts – are you?" Hermione's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head. Dumbledore merely took in a breath of contemplation and twiddled his beard again.
"I think, once I have consulted her heritage, we may enrol her a Hogwarts," he said pensively. "It is nearly after-hours, you had all better head to your dormitories. Oh, and before I forget, in the morning you will be excused from your classes – please proceed straight to the hospital wing after breakfast. Goodnight," he smiled.
They exited his office stunned. After they had passed the ugly statue of the gargoyle, and were well out of earshot, Hermione began to hiss about the risks of bringing a Muggle into the school. The boys didn't even bother to argue – they too believed that Dumbledore was being reckless in his decision. As the portrait of the Fat Lady, the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, loomed, George came hopping up the stairs behind them, breathless.
"I told Madam Pomfrey..." he said, "And Sami... she thinks she's overtired... seeing the paintings moving..."
That thought hadn't occurred to the others. Of course she would notice talking watercolours on the wall – paintings and photographs were static in the Muggle realm.
Entering the common room, they were surprised to see it still fairly occupied – the reason being that everyone was waiting up for them.
"Who is she? What happened?"
"Did Sirius get her?"
"Bet her soul was sucked out by them nasty Dementors, I bet..."
They didn't answer any of the shrieks and pushed through the crowd to their dormitories just shaking their heads. Dumbledore wouldn't want them saying anything, so they judged to zip their mouths and keep their heads down, at least until Sami's future had been decided.