Chapter Seven: Prophet

The Great Hall was alight with chatter. Despite the First Years having been sorted three evenings ago, a stout wooden stool had been placed in its traditional spot at the front, the Sorting Hat perched atop it. Rumours had been once again fuelled when it was revealed that a girl in fifth year had a potion go wrong and had been rushed to the infirmary. It had been an honest mistake, but she was eager to meet the mysterious girl whose unknown identity was on everyone's lips at the moment. To her disappointment – and curiosity – the girl wasn't there that morning, so after her skin had lost its royal blue shade, and was merely tinged a faint turquoise, she had been excused from the Infirmary and rushed to tell her friends, backed up by the countless number of students who had saw her being escorted somewhere with Professor McGonagall. The new question had become whether she had left and was never to come back, or whether she had possibly even died.

Of course, five students knew that these rumours were ridiculous, but had to keep poker faces and mutter 'I dunno, maybe' at the pestering and pleas for their inside knowledge. But when students entered the Great Hall that evening for dinner and saw the Hat, they all came to realise – not at the same time, however, Harry and Ron spotted Malfoy hissing 'she's being Sorted, idiot' to a typically gormless Goyle – that she was here to stay. The main rumour at that point was that she was a foreign witch who had tried to infiltrate the school under Sirius Black's orders, but the Dementors that were guarding the grounds had tried to suck out her soul. She had somehow escaped – foreign magic, they presumed – but the effects of the Dementors had caused her to pass out. Dumbledore had been keeping her here as a matter of caution.
This elaborate tale had varied slightly from House to House – the Slytherins decided she was a Death Eater using a potion to mask her identity – but it was shattered the moment the student body set eyes on that stool.
Thrilled with the new story, they were huddled in groups around their House tables conferring, and Dumbledore had to go to the lengths of extinguishing every candle in the Hall with a wave of his hand to grab their attention. Screams pierced through the air, bullets of fright, and when the candles had been re-lit by Dumbledore's second wave, all eyes were on him.

"Thank you for your attention," he smiled at his students, pleased with himself, "Before dinner begins, I must announce that we have a new student who is to be Sorted this evening. As a display of our warmth and acceptance here at Hogwarts, there is to be an accompanying Feast. So – as I am sure your stomachs are rumbling – let the Sorting begin!" He sat down in his grand chair and set his eyes on the door, still beaming. The eyes of his students, now reduced to tense silence and held breaths, swivelled slowly to the door as well. No-one cared that it was rude to stare.

After a few moments, the door swung open and Professor McGonagall entered just as she had done a few nights previously. Behind her followed a short, pretty girl whose feet danced as she walked to the front. Her face was straight, a smile playing at her red – yet unpainted – lips, save for a tiny hint of worry in her eyes. Along the way she swung to the Gryffindor table and said something in an undertone to George Weasley, who nodded. Students exchanged glances. You could practically see the 'rumour mills' in their minds beginning to churn. They didn't know that all she had said to him was the whereabouts of his robes – in their minds it was a secret, or an affectionate whisper. The new girl stopped at the front a few yards from the chair, Professor McGonagall standing in front and to the left of her.

Some students by the end of their House tables could see her casting a glance along the staff table, drinking in the different appearances of her soon-to-be Professors. A few particular characters that caught her eye were the man dressed entirely in black except for his white cufflinks, the man that sat on at least half a dozen cushions to reach the table, the tatty man, shabbily dressed, and the huge man that sat rather awkwardly between two uneasy wizards who were trying to distance themselves from him. She imagined a wizard hat perched on top of the giant man's head, a rather comical image, but thought that his eyes held a similar twinkle to Dumbledore's. Maybe it came with the beard.
Professor McGonagall unravelled a roll of parchment no-one had noticed she was carrying. It was merely a scrap; only one name had been written on it.
"O'Rourke, Samantha," she called, as if there were twenty new students to announce, rather than one. Sami took a breath and assembled herself atop the stool, lifting the frayed hat to sit on her head. She could not see, but its rim opened into lips and eyes peeked out from its folds.
"My, what a curious character I have here... fear of refutation? I'm not surprised... but I see power inside you, great power... smarts, practicality... care, love... the desire to be loved...
"You hold traits from almost all of the Houses... I see you are pure of heart, intelligent and determined, and more courageous than you believe yourself to be. But do not fret, you can be Sorted, for your traits combined point to only one direction" – the whole Hall caught its breath, each student hoping the next word the Hat crooned would be the name of their own House – "GRYFFINDOR!"
The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws clapped politely, despite their dissatisfaction, but over at the Slytherin table Draco Malfoy looked malicious, sending glares to the cheering Gryffindors.
Sami grinned and removed the hat, seeing Hermione making room for her at the table. She wanted this moment to never end, to loop like your favourite record that you never tired of hearing. She wanted to take a photograph of everything surrounding her, from the magnificent starry ceiling above to the ecstatic faces of her peers, so that she could watch them dance around inside the film frame over and over again.

Once she had reached the table and a golden set of goblet and plate had been conjured up for her, Dumbledore rose from his seat once more. He held his arms wide and declared: "Let the Feast begin!"
Well, Sami congratulated whoever the chefs were on their effort – foods from all cultures and countries had appeared on the larger glistening plates in the middle of the table, more foods than Sami could list. Opposite her she saw Ron reaching for the steaming and heady scented bowl of buttery boiled potatoes, and Harry filling up his goblet with a sweet-smelling orange liquid. When she asked what it was, he poured some into her own cup and told her to drink. It was syrupy lusciousness in a jug, she decided, so Harry topped up her goblet to the brim. They all clinked glasses, toasting to new beginnings – and to food. By the time she had finished and the plates were cleared, Sami was certain she would never have to eat again.
"You don't have tea like this every day, do you?" she asked, slightly overwhelmed.
"No – imagine it! We'd look like Dudley! They're just for special occasions. Won't have another until Halloween, actually..." Sami laughed with the others – she had heard all about Harry and the Dursleys today, though no one had told her about who this You-Know-Who happened to be yet, but she didn't dare ask in fear of ruining such a magnificent evening. After dismissal from Dumbledore, they joined the torrents of students traipsing up to the moving staircases. Sami felt a freezing gust wash over her suddenly, and the next thing she knew there was a lucid, ghostly figure floating in front of her.
"Welcome to Gryffindor!" the man said. His translucent figure waved to her, "I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, but you can call me Sir Nicholas. I'm Gryffindor House... ghost..." Sir Nicholas looked upset at being classed a ghost. "Excuse me..." he said sadly, as he glided away through the staircase.
Up and up the Gryffindors climbed, being swung to a different destination by the staircases at least twice along the way, until they arrived in front of a portrait of a portly woman dressed in fuchsia. She was 'tra-la-la'-ing and paid no attention to the near fifty students who were crowding around her, more heading up the stairs below them. A tall boy with red hair similar to Ron's had already marched to the front.
"Cor leonis!" he shouted to the portrait's occupant.
"When I've finished!" she yelled back.
"That's the Fat Lady," Ron said sideways to Sami, "She's absolutely mental." The Fat Lady was attempting to smash a glass with her voice now, she was trying to hit high As on a scale. Her face purple, she conspicuously knocked it against the frame of the portrait and passed off that she had shattered the wine glass with only her voice, gasping in faux shock and saying 'Oh my! My voice – it's beautiful!'. Percy said the phrase again – Sami recognised that 'Leonis' meant 'Lion' in Latin, and realised that this was a password for entry to the Common Room.
"Oh, alright," the Fat Lady huffed, swinging aside to let them pass through. Sami found her wacky temperament amusing, though she understood why Ron and the other Gryffindors thought her to be grating.

As she stepped inside, she saw the whole circular room to be bright, scarlet and gold, with comfy looking chairs arranged around the smouldering fireplace and desks by the windows that looked out from the tower to the grounds. It was a friendly-looking, inviting room that she could settle in immediately. Two spiral stairwells were opposite to the door, presumably leading to the dormitories. The excited students gathered around her as she had barely entered the room, crowding her and asking for a backstory. It reminded her of the musical Grease, and she half-expected the other students to burst out into song, hollering 'Tell me more, tell me more!' any second. Naturally, they didn't, but she still felt a little overwhelmed. Then, from the rear of the crowd, she saw the tall George and Fred pressing to the front like a pair of bodyguards, saying 'All right, all right – give the girl some space!', their hands gesticulating pushes to fend everybody off.
"Right then," Fred said, "If Sami wants to say anything, she can – do you want to say anything?" he directed this question to her.
"Well, I think I'd better have... the gist is, I didn't know I was magic – if I am magic, really – until just over a day ago, so if youse wouldn't mind, I have to sort out my things..." she could see each person hanging on her every word. The effect she had on them was really rather confusing.
People had complimented her Mayo lilt before in the UK, but this adoring thing that was going on was more than a bit creepy. She clapped her hands together like Mr. Ollivander had, and hopped down from the top of the cabinet she had been pushed towards. The throng parted to let her pass, silent, and Hermione sprinted to her side to steer her into the correct room. She was to be sharing a dorm with Hermione, which Sami was thankful for, and two other Gryffindor third-year girls. No-one followed them upstairs, though, so Hermione decided to help Sami sort out her new possessions and equipment. Morrissey the tawny owl was sitting in his cage, hooting softly. He livened up at Sami's entrance to the room, and nuzzled his head against her palm as she greeted him. She unlatched the door to his cage and with a final stroke, let him fly out of the window into the violet sky, watching him as his silhouette soared past the moon.

Yellow slivers of morning light filtered in through the half-open window the following morning, snugly caressing Sami's cheek. She woke gently, feeling the autumn breezes blow into her ear. Checking the alarm clock she had positioned on the bedside table next to her, she saw it was only half past eight. None of the other girls were awake yet – she hadn't even noticed them enter last night; she had been so tired that she had fallen asleep after unpacking the suitcase of clothes that had mysteriously been transported to the foot of her four-poster along with her wizarding gear. It had clearly been packed by Katelyn, Sami observed, as she read the note that had been tucked inside the pocket of her most-loved article of clothing – the red and grey striped 'boyfriend' cardigan that fitted her perfectly:

"Hey there, Madame Magic, it's me, your plain old big sister. An old man with a long beard came to see me last afternoon. He said that you were magic and that you had been chosen to be educated at a school of witchcraft. Of course, I thought he was barking and sent him packing, but then he finished off the painting of my fingernails with a flick of his hand, so I sat up and listened. You can come and visit me at Christmas, tell me all about your magic spells.

Always,

Your NORMAL sister, Katelyn.
xoxoxoxoxox

P.S: Don't be enticing too many young wizard boys, save some for me."

This note had made Sami laugh, but tears filled her eyes nevertheless. Her legs had bowed from beneath her, and so, changing into her Beatles t-shirt and pyjama shorts, she had sunk into the four-poster bed, hearing the House still buzzing downstairs.

Glancing around the dorm now, the other girls were still asleep, so Sami treaded quietly as possible to the trunk at the bottom of her bed and pulled out the Walkman her sister had gifted her last Christmas. Clamping the headphones over her ears, she pressed on the 'Play' button, waiting for the disc to whir inside and the drumming to begin. Nothing happened. Not a single sound reverberated from the machine. She tipped it upside down and checked the batteries – they were in there right, and another small note was tacked to the interior of the battery compartment that read 'Changed them. Hakuna Matata!'. Sami blew inside the Walkman and rubbed the disc clean on her shirt. She tried again, but with the same ineffective results.
Giving up, she exchanged the Walkman for Hogwarts: A History and flipped to the back of the volume. She ran her finger down the Index pages, looking for any mention of Muggle technology, when the sound of footsteps from behind startled her. She spun round – it was only Hermione. Exhaling with relief, she resumed her search for the keywords. Hermione had her head cocked and was examining the situation.

"It won't work here," she said sleepily, sitting next to Sami on the bed, "You mustn't have reached that chapter. Muggle technology doesn't work in the wizard world... unless it's enchanted, sometimes. Ron's dad deals with things like that – he's in the Ministry of Magic, the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office."
"Wait – does that mean there's no music here?"
"Oh no, of course not, there are still radios – the artists are just different, that's all. Some are actually really good – have you ever heard of the Weird Sisters?" Hermione asked, but Sami looked devastated. "What's wrong?"
"Different bands? Does that mean I won't hear The Smiths again, or The Kinks, or Pulp, or Blur?" she was staring at the many CDs her sister had dutifully packed for her. It was clear that Sami was a music enthusiast.
"Well... yes, sort of..." Hermione was gnawing at her lip, when she had what Sami had dubbed a 'light bulb moment', "You could ask Dumbledore! I'm sure he'd try his best to sort it out for you?"
This cheered Sami up a bit, the knowledge that there was some hope to be had. By now, one of the other girls had risen. She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes, before realising that Hermione and Sami were awake too. Her long black hair was tied back in a plait, and she was quite pretty. She introduced herself as Parvati Patil. Parvati's accidentally loud introduction caused the final sleeping girl to stir.
The second girl had curly blonde hair that bounced messily around her face. She presented herself as Lavender Brown. Once Parvati and Lavender seemed fully awake, they bounded over to Sami and sat on her bed, almost knocking Hermione off it.
"You're Irish, right? Where were you born?"
"How'd you end up here?"
"What was with the dress?"
"You're gorgeous, did you know?"
"What about George Weasley?"
It appeared that they couldn't decide on a particular question, and taking a fleeting look at Hermione, Sami saw that she was unimpressed, her lips pursed and arms folded.
"Er – Lavender, Parvati – I'm sure we can discuss things another time, but it's early in the morning..." The girls looked dismayed and annoyed at Sami's refusal to gossip. They sent glares to Hermione, then flounced out of the room, arms linked. Sami was stunned. "Are they always like that?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Hermione replied, "Which is why it's so good to have another Gryffindor girl in this dorm! Oh, that reminds me" – Hermione crossed the room and rummaged in her cabinet drawer, pulling out a scarlet folder – "I've been arranging this for you. With you being Sorted yesterday, I could finish it." She passed it to Sami, who opened the cover and looked at the title page.

It had the school logo printed on it, with Hermione's calligraphy labelling the folder 'A Guide to Hogwarts and the Wizarding World'. Turning to the first page, a table of contents, Sami saw that held categories like 'Students', 'Classes' and 'Corridors'. She sat with Hermione for at least half an hour, reading and talking through the pages and information written. At around quarter past nine, they closed the book and tucked it under Sami's pillow before heading to the Common Room. It was less lively down there than last night, with about fifteen students milling around and playing wizard snap or just talking. To both Sami and Hermione's relief, Lavender and Parvati were not to be seen. Sami was sure she would get used to them, but harassment wasn't what she needed just then. A week later, once she'd completely settled and partook in at least one class, fine – but not the moment she was flung into the school.

Harry and Ron were sitting on one of the sofas near the fireplace. Hermione spotted them and she and Sami walked over to sit with them.
"'Morning," Ron yawned. He hated mornings, and it was a Sunday, his lie-in day, but it was difficult to sleep with Seamus and Dean's chatter about Sami at nine a.m. The group talked for a while about the electives Sami should choose, and were comparing timetables when George and Fred strolled from the boys' dormitory staircase to their two sofas. Hermione was currently crouching by Harry and Ron, arguing about Ancient Runes, and Sami – who had tuned out the conversation five minutes ago – was gazing into the fireplace, deep in thought. The twins plonked down on either side of her, sending her whooshing back to the present with a jerk. She noted that George was wearing his Gryffindor robes again.
"What's up, fire girl?" said Fred.
"What? Oh, nothing... I just like fire, y'know... it dances." She tilted her head to one side, looking at the fluttering amber flames.
"It's not so pretty when it's burning your house down, I guess," Fred said. He checked his watch. "Half nine – grub!" He and Ron leapt to their feet, followed by Sami, Hermione, Harry and George, and walked downstairs to the Great Hall. It was fairly crowded and once again vivacious with discussion, people swarming around one or two others seated at the House tables. As they entered, all eyes turned to them and the Hall fell silent. Awkwardly, they walked to the Gryffindor table. Sami was looking around at the faces of the other students when Draco Malfoy caught her eye. He was one of the individuals that everybody else was gathered around, and he was holding a newspaper. His expression was one of immense disgust and loathing. It made Sami slightly scared, so she broke eye contact and hurried to sit down. Even her fellow Gryffindors were hushed, looking at her with shock in their eyes. What had happened overnight that had made everyone's reception of her change? Then she caught on – the clusters of students had been craning to read the newspaper before she had entered. Scoping for the nearest paper-wielder, she spotted a boy A Guide to Hogwarts had identified as Neville Longbottom holding one. He didn't seem disgusted, or shocked, by her, instead he appeared nervous about the mass of people surrounding him. Neville slid the newspaper across the table to Sami. With a heavy heart, she read:

MUGGLE SCANDAL!
By Rita Skeeter

A girl without any magical ancestry, from County Mayo, Ireland, has been confirmed to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The thirteen-year-old Samantha O'Rourke was found near the school, and subsequently enrolled despite having entirely Muggle ancestors.
The writer herself has no prejudice against Muggle-born wizards or witches, but the idea of a Muggle being educated magic is preposterous.
O'Rourke was spotted in Diagon Alley on Saturday 4th September, accompanied by none other than Harry Potter, purchasing school equipment. It is believed that she was headed to select a wand from Ollivander's Wand Shop. Our reliable sources overheard a conversation in which she described her troubled – and completely Muggle – past and relatives to Potter, and immediately contacted the Prophet.
Ministry officials claimed to know nothing of any Muggle acceptance to Hogwarts, and so the writer – ever persistent in serving the best stories to her faithful readers – took her queries straight to the top, to the main man, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge. Fudge stated that 'The matters of Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts School, and any students that attend it are private and the business of the Headmaster.' He then told the writer, who had stuck to her guns in questioning him further, that 'A new student has been enrolled at the school but her personal details are confidential.'
Whoops! It looks like Cornelius has slipped up there, and further proved our argument, by including a gender of the mysterious 'new student'.
The writer is permitted to disclose her personal opinions, and can't help but wonder: Is Miss O'Rourke an old friend of Harry Potter's, who shares his messy past? Did she and Potter grow ever closer, until he found that Hogwarts was too far from the Muggle world? The writer knows of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's favour for Potter; maybe he managed to pull the wool over the Ministry's eyes, but he isn't fooling the writer. Schoolboy loves are sweet, Albus, but meddling with the wizard and Muggle boundaries is not.
Pictured opposite is Samantha O'Rourke, clothed in what the writer can only describe as an 'appealing' dress. Tell me, wizarding world – is she innocent, or is she playing games with Harry's heart?

By the time Sami had finished reading the article, she had had to sit down. Her stomach lurched more and more with every passing sentence. The article was ridiculous, of course, but the Hogwarts students – and the rest of the world, for that matter – didn't know that. To all their knowledge, she was a mysterious newcomer who had certainly 'made an entrance' three years past the time students normally arrived. Why couldn't she be a temptress who only longed for a pass inside the wizarding world? Why couldn't she be an old flame of Harry Potter's? He himself was already rather shady.
Sami heard the rustling of paper as it hit the table; she had dropped it back onto the table. Immediately, it had been snatched back up by Ron, who was holding it up so that Hermione, Harry and the twins could read with him.
"What?" George yelled as soon as he had finished reading, shattering the window of silence that had formed in the Great Hall, "Do you guys really believe Rita Skeeter? She's the one who said that Sirius Black escaping from Azkaban was a 'good wake-up for the Ministry pillocks'!"
"Didn't deny she was a Muggle there, did you Weasley?" Draco Malfoy sneered from the Slytherin table.
"That's because she isn't!" Hermione joined. "She managed to defeat a powerful Stunning spell with no wand or previous knowledge of magic – she clearly has some wizarding blood in her!"
"You can shut up, Granger," Malfoy continued, standing up and striding towards them. "She might have some oomph," he had reached their table and had stopped next to Sami, whose face was vacant, "but it doesn't change the fact that she's a useless, filthy little Muggle who'll never belong." He spat the last insult with a hiss in her ear, though still announcing it loud enough for the rest of the Hall to hear. Sami flinched.
The next thing anyone knew, Malfoy was being sent shooting backwards through the air, landing with a crack against the floor. George, Fred, Harry, and Ron were all standing with their wands pointed at him, fury wild in their eyes. They had all hit Malfoy simultaneously with different jinxes, each one affecting him. He lay shuddering and twitching, looking like he was having a seizure, until each of the boys uttered counter curses. Malfoy was still rolling on the ground like a fish out of water, whimpering and clutching his stomach.
"Apologise!"
He shook his head manically. "No – never!" he shrieked.
"Leave it, lads. Please," Sami had risen from her seat. "He isn't worth it." She looked disdainfully at Malfoy, then turned to the still-watching Hall and bowed sarcastically. "Well, the show's over, everybody," she said, drily, before turning and walking out of the doors to the Entrance Hall, trying to keep her head held high. She heard three quarters of the Hall burst into admiring applause as she was stumbling her way up the marble staircase blindly, eyes filling with tears.