Author's Note: IMPORTANT!!! DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Harry Potter series OR the Mortal Instrument series. The only character I own is Islinn Ignotum (and Cassandra Ignotum) and Islinn's family. I would have made this a crossover but the Mortal Instrument stuff isn't as prominent. This was originally a Tom Riddle one-shot, but I can't really do anything with Tom since he's Voldemort now. This is intended to be a Harry Potter story… more specifically a Neville Longbottom story! I am well aware of the fact I rush things in this chapter and I am so sorry. I am also sorry if the story/chapter is not good (I'm experimenting with 3rd person POV and writing about eleven-year-old kids). Can someone please, please, please tell me what Harry's schedule is for his first year (along with the days they have them)?The faster you tell me the sooner I will update. Thank you to goldenfairydust (who was the first to review AND suggested my character to be paired with Neville Longbottom), morganeblb, BEN and MrsPhantomSylvia for reviewing! 31 pages long! Constructive criticism is acceptable. Any way to make this story better for the readers! Any questions let me know.
She was having trouble finding an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express. She had arrived very late, almost missing going through platform nine and three-quarters. She had come by herself because there was nobody to say goodbye to… or she would rather not say goodbye to. The people at the Institute knew she could take care of herself so they had let her come alone.
Almost at the very end of the train she found an open door to an empty compartment. She went in and with effort, placed her trunk on the little shelf. She closed the compartment door and was about to sit when she found a toad under the seat opposite from her. She crouched down and extended her hands toward it, and the toad jumped into her hands. She straightened and sat down, placing the toad in her lap. She stroked its head absentmindedly as she looked out the window. In the back of her mind she was surprised the toad wasn't trying to escape.
She heard the train whistle and in a moment the train had begun to move. Through the closed door she heard the noise of all the other kids and a little sigh escaped her lips. She was daydreaming again and she didn't know what was real, she couldn't tell whether she was remembering her dreams, the memories that had been passed down to her, or her own memories. She was eleven years old and it was at this age that their memories would be unlocked from her mind. The only thing she was certain about was this: She was Harry Potter's guardian, the prophecy had sealed it, made it her destiny. Her prophecy was different from the one everybody knew, nobody except a few people had knowledge of this prophecy and she hoped it would remain that way. In truth, it was sad she did not know much about famous Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. All she knew was that his parents had been killed by Lord Voldemort, otherwise known as the Dark Lord, and that Harry had survived the Killing Curse with nothing but a lightning-shaped scar. She had never met him before and she didn't even know what he looked like. She did know he was her same age and would be going to Hogwarts, therefore had to be on this train.
She heard the compartment door slide open but she continued to look out the window. Finally, someone spoke. "Can we sit here?" asked a voice. She turned to see two boys at the door. One was tall with red hair and freckles, while the shorter boy had messy black hair and glasses.
"You may," she responded, inclining her head, continuing to stroke the toad. She looked out the window again, listening to them putting their trunks away. She began to drift again and did not know how much time had passed until she heard someone ask,
"Is that your toad?" The girl looked away from the window to the boy with black hair. Before she could respond the red-haired boy said in a tone as if what he was about to say was important,
"You know, toads aren't popular anymore."
Her lips twitched and she turned back to the black-haired boy and said, "The toad is not mine. I found it under the seat. I do hope someone comes looking for it."
"No way, the toad has to be yours. Look, it's not even trying to get away," the redheaded boy said.
"The toad is not mine," she repeated. He gave her a doubtful look but did not say any more.
"Is this your first year?" the black-haired kid asked. He looked a little nervous.
"It is. Is this your first year as well?" she inquired, addressing both boys. They nodded and the redhead asked rather randomly,
"What House would you prefer to be in?"
"It does not matter to me as long as I am not put in Slytherin." The taller boy gave a nod in agreement while the spectacled boy seemed confused. The redhead asked,
"You wouldn't mind being put in Hufflepuff?" his voice was disbelieving. The corners of the girl's mouth twitched upward.
"My grandfather on my mother's side was a Hufflepuff, so no, I do not mind," she responded. Neither boy replied to that. Everything was silent for a long time and she resumed her staring out the window.
The girl was barely aware that the boys were conversing; she was not listening. She did not know how much time had passed when the compartment door slid open. She heard a girl's commanding voice ask, "Have any of you seen Neville's toad? He seems to have lost it." At those words, the girl with the toad looked at the speaker. The girl seemed to be about the age of everyone around her. Though this new girl had unruly hair, and rather large front teeth, she was very pretty. The boy next to her was flushing and though he also had rather large front teeth his face was pleasant. The girl with the toad stood up.
"This toad?" she asked, palm flat, while she stroked the toad with her other hand.
"Trevor!" the round-faced youth, Neville, exclaimed. She gave him back the toad and as she gave it to him, their fingers brushed, causing Neville to flush darker. As soon as Neville took the toad it began squirming. "Th-thank y-you," the boy stammered.
"You are most welcome," she replied, inclining her head.
"Wait," said the girl with the bushy hair.
"Yes?" the other girl questioned.
"How did you do that? What did you do to that toad?" At the look of confusion she received the bossy girl said, "Neville, let her hold the toad." Puzzled, Neville held the toad out to the girl who had just been holding it. She took it and looked at the other girl with a raised eyebrow. "Tell me how you found it?" the girl demanded.
"I did not do anything to the toad. I found it in this compartment when I was about to sit. I held out my hands for it and it hopped in them," she explained.
"Trevor did that?! I have never seen him do that," a perplexed Neville said, taking the toad back.
"I suppose I have an affinity for animals," the girl observed amused and the bushy-haired girl smiled reluctantly. Then in her matter-of-fact voice the second girl said,
"I'm Hermione Granger and this is Neville Longbottom."
The girl curtsied and said, "It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Granger, Mister Longbottom. My name is Islinn Ignotum." At the look Granger gave her she added, "I am well aware my manners are rather old-fashioned but I beg you to not blame me for it; blame the people who raised me."
"Don't worry about it," Hermione said, smiling a little. A ghost of a smile crossed Islinn's face and returned to her seat once Neville and Hermione had left. She was vaguely aware that the black-haired boy looked a little pale. After a short pause the redheaded boy said,
"My name is Ron Weasley."
"Ron as in Ronald?" queried Islinn. When he nodded a faint smile crossed her lips and she gave a slight nod.
"My name is Harry Potter," the kid with the black hair and glasses said. Just as if someone had flicked a switch everything around her seemed to be revolving so fast she felt as if she was about to be sick and a headache began. She quelled the sickness down tried to calm down as she inclined her head toward them and said,
"It is a pleasure to meet you Mister Weasley, Mister Potter." She turned back to the window and subtly leaned her head against the cold glass. She tried breathing evenly, until, a long time later, the feeling went away. In its' wake was a new feeling and though it was a bit uncomfortable it was not painful. A long time passed before anyone spoke.
"Are you not hungry?" Ron asked, looking at her while attempting to unwrap something. She wondered how much time had passed.
"No, I feel a bit queasy," Islinn replied.
"Here, maybe this will make you feel better," Harry said, giving her some pumpkin juice.
"Thank you," she said, taking a sip. It did, in fact, make her feel better. The cool liquid felt nice and cleared her head a little. She glanced out the window and noticed a shape growing in the distance. She saw it was a bird. She stood and opened the window. In a moment, the bird was perched in the girl's arm.
"I thought owls were the ones to deliver…" Harry trailed off.
"That is definitely not an owl," added Ron.
"Do not worry; I have made arrangements with Headmaster Dumbledore about the owlery. It will not attack the owls. His name is Nomen and he is a hen harrier, sometimes known as a marsh hawk. Nomen is trained so you do not have to worry about yourself or your owls," she answered. The bird moved up her shoulder and nipped her ear lightly. She sat down and the hawk hoped down and settled in her lap.
"Its beak looks rather sharp," Ron commented.
"As I said, do not worry. Nomen is trained to not attack anyone or other birds unless I instruct him to do otherwise." Ron nodded looking doubtful.
"Shouldn't it be in a cage?" Harry asked, seeming to be a little uncomfortable.
"Well, Nomen only has a traveling cage. Once we reach Hogwarts, he will not need it," she answered. She had complete faith in Nomen, who had been with her for a long time.
Though Islinn was not very conversational, she spent a pleasant time with Ron and Harry. It seemed that they enjoyed her company as well. After a while they grew accustomed to the grey hawk, who had taken a short nap in Islinn's lap, and they stop keeping a wary eye after a while. Their relief wasn't that apparent when Nomen took flight again, which she supposed was a good sign.
It was twilight when they decided to change into their robes. They turned their backs on her when she changed and she looked out the window when it was the boy's turn to change. Islinn was still not looking forward to the school uniform because she felt most uncomfortable with skirts, but the Headmaster had not allowed her to wear the dress pants the boy's had to wear. She sighed and was a little consoled that at least they had to wear robes, so one couldn't really see the uniform.
Islinn, along with Ron and Harry, were talking when the door to the compartment door slid open and three boys walked in. The dark-haired boys flanking the third boy were big, unattractive, and seemed quite unwitty. The third boy, the one with the silver-blond hair, was thinner and a little smaller than his burly companions. He had direct grey eyes and a pointed face. Though he was handsome, he had a haughty, superior air about him.
"Malfoy," Ron said, not hiding his dislike, surprising Islinn, though she did not show it.
"Weasley," Malfoy sneered and made a rude comment about Ron's family. Islinn did not like this Malfoy kid. Who was he to insult Ron? Besides, Ron had been kind to her despite the fact he didn't know her. She looked at Harry and saw his expression was hard. Malfoy, ignoring Ron, addressed Harry and said, "Is it true, that you are Harry Potter?" When Harry nodded, Malfoy introduced himself as Draco Malfoy and offered, quite arrogantly, his friendship to him. Islinn knew Harry would refuse; all it took was to look at Harry's face. Harry made a cool and rude refusal. Malfoy's gaze narrowed and he told Harry he would regret it. Then he saw Islinn.
"Are you a first year?" Malfoy asked, scrutinizing her closely.
"I am. Are you?" she asked, tilting her chin up almost unnoticeably, in silent defiance.
"Yes," he said and asked for her name.
Islinn curtsied and said, "My name is Islinn Ignotum." He looked at her strangely, before composing himself and he made a slight bow. She wondered why he would bother.
"My name is Draco Malfoy. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ignotum. You have such charming manners," he said, for once there was no mockery in his voice. His manner had changed quite abruptly. He was being nice to her, and she wondered why that was, after all she was with two people Malfoy had an apparent dislike toward. Was it because of the way she conducted herself? Though confused, outwardly she kept her composed and unemotional façade, the way she was taught. She inclined her head in acknowledgement. His manners were flawed but she decided against telling him. He straightened and asked, "Are you a pureblood, Miss Ignotum?"
"I am a half blood, Mister Malfoy." It clicked then. He thought she was a pureblood who knew how to act at such standard. Knowing she was a half blood now, he was most likely going to give her the cold look he had given her companions, but she did not care; she didn't like Malfoy after all. This is why she was surprised when he continued to speak to her like before.
"In that case there is a possibility you could be Sorted into Slytherin. I certainly hope that is the case, because I am convinced I will be Sorted into that House. It would be my utmost pleasure to keep you company," Malfoy stated. She already didn't want to be in that House and this solidified her determination. As much as she did not like Draco Malfoy, he had not done or said anything rude directly to her, therefore, as civility would have it, she could not be rude to him.
"I look forward to the Sorting," was all she responded. She could tell Malfoy was not used to acting or speaking in the way he was doing toward her, so she could not understand why he was doing so.
"As do I. Will you not join us in a carriage, Miss Ignotum?" Malfoy asked the faintest trace of hope in his question. She looked at him, while raking her brain for a polite refusal. Of course, she did not want to ride in a carriage with him, but she wasn't going to say, 'I don't like you, don't even bother asking'. She was gratefully saved by Ron.
"She's riding with us," Ron stated, glaring at Malfoy.
"I did not ask you," Malfoy sneered, "I asked her." He turned to Islinn.
"Mister Malfoy, I should say I am most dreadfully sorry, but I will be sitting with Mister Weasley and Mister Potter. Perhaps we shall see each other before the Sorting," Islinn said courteously, inclining her head in a graceful manner.
"I certainly hope so," Malfoy replied, not looking happy. He left, followed by his companions. Relief flooded Islinn, but she did not show it.
Turning to Ron she said, "Thank you Mister Weasley, I do not know what I would have done if you had not told him I was riding with you."
"You could have said no," Ron pointed out.
"That would have been rather rude. I could only have refused if I had some type of reason, and I did not have one. That is the way I was raised." Islinn answered.
"You just haven't met Malfoy properly. He's just nice to you," Ron stated.
"I did not like him, he seems to be a very arrogant person," she responded, voicing her thoughts.
"Really now?" Ron asked.
"Do you think I am lying?" she queried feeling a little upset at this and not showing it. He raised an eyebrow as if to say 'duh'. Islinn drew herself up and said, "I do not lie. I…" she paused before continuing, not sure if this was wise. "I cannot lie."
"You can't?" Harry asked skeptically.
"No, I cannot. I… it is very hard to explain. Perhaps I will tell you when the time comes," she said, feeling uncomfortable.
"So, you're sorry you won't ride with Malfoy?" Ron asked a little hurt.
"Of course I am not sorry about that. I told you I do not like him."
"But you told him you were sorry," Harry pointed out.
"I did not say that," Islinn said firmly.
"We heard you," Harry answered insistently.
A small smile was hinted in her features when she answered, "You see, because I cannot lie I have learned to use words and phrases to my advantage. Notice I told Mister Malfoy, I should say I was sorry; I never said I was sorry. Also, I did not state whether or not I would be glad to be a Slytherin, though you both know I do not wish that. I merely stated I looked forward to the Sorting. Do you notice the difference?"
They both grinned at her. "You clever girl," Ron said.
"Thank you," she said, and she felt like laughing. She hoped they would all be Sorted in the same House because she enjoyed their company. The train stopped and they waited for mostly everyone to get off.
They went into a carriage and she was surprised to see it being pulled by threstals. Both Harry and Ron sat together and Islinn sat across from them. They were then joined by Hermione and Neville. Islinn had to admit it was a tight fit.
"H-hi I-Islinn," said Neville.
"Hello Islinn," Hermione greeted.
"Mister Longbottom, Miss Granger, such a pleasure to see you again," Islinn responded, inclining her head toward them.
"Really?" Ron asked, looking pointedly at Hermione. Was it really a pleasure to see Hermione? Harry was waiting for a response too.
"Yes, really, Mister Weasley," Islinn replied, almost smiling. Neither Ron nor Harry made a comment about it.
There was silence until Islinn decided feed her curiosity. "Do any of you see the threstals pulling the carriages?" Everyone looked at her strangely.
"The what?" Harry asked.
"The threstals. They can only be seen by people who have seen someone die," Islinn explained. Really, she was the only one?
"Can you see them?" asked Ron.
"Yes," she said finality in her voice. She might not have been there when her parents died but she had seen it later. If not that, she had seen other people die, but she was determined not to dwell on that because then she would remember him.
Nobody spoke for a while; the only sound was Neville struggling to keep a hold on Trevor. Addressing Neville, Islinn asked, keeping the amusement out of her voice, "Would you like me to hold Trevor for a while?"
Neville's eyes went wide and he said, "I-I… well, y-you –"
"If you do not wish me to do so, it is all right. All you have to say is no, Mister Longbottom," Islinn interrupted. There was no accusation, no hurt in her voice. It was merely a statement.
"Exactly," Ron said, pointedly looking at Islinn. After all, she could have said no to Malfoy. She gave him a hard look before turning to Neville.
"Yes, please," he nearly whispered. She wondered if Neville was always like this. A ghost of a smile crossed her lips as she held out her hands for Trevor. The toad jumped into her hands and went still. She set it in her lap and pet its head.
"How do you do that?" Hermione asked.
"Most animals can sense fear, danger, and insecurity among other things. When you approach an animal there has to be confidence or the animal will not feel safe. Fortunately, this comes naturally for me. However, I tried teaching a friend once, but she said it was too hard," Islinn replied, almost shrugging. She remembered when she had tried to teach Isabelle how keep some control on animals while using a squirrel. That had not gone too well.
"Impressive," Hermione allowed, though it seemed to be more to herself than to Islinn. All the same, Islinn responded.
"Thank you Miss Granger."
At that moment the carriage came to a halt and when she got out she noticed they were near a lake.
"Firs' years 'ere; all firs' years come 'ere," said a booming voice. She followed the voice and took a good look at the speaker. He was… huge! He was extremely tall and big compared to a normal human, but would have looked dwarfed next to a giant. Perhaps he was a half-giant. If that was the case she would not utter a word… her parents had told her all about that. Apparently, Harry seemed to know him because he went over to him. They were supposed to ride in tiny boats across the lake by twos. Harry would be riding with the half-giant Harry had called Hagrid, so there would not be any room, so Ron and Islinn had to ride together. Unfortunately, she was still holding Trevor and she didn't know where Neville had gone. Once they got to the other side, Islinn tried to look for Neville but it was too dark. She decided to look for him when they got inside.
At the entrance of the most beautiful castle Islinn had ever seen, someone was waiting for them. She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall. The woman was tall, thin, and unsmiling. She seemed very formal, but then it made since, she was a professor. McGonagall led them inside and told them to wait in front of elegantly carved, wooden doors. When she disappeared behind the doors, Islinn looked for Neville.
"Islinn, I was looking for you," said a voice full of relief. She turned and saw Neville; his pleasant face had begun to flush.
"I was looking for you too. I am so sorry Mister Longbottom; I forgot I was holding Trevor," Islinn said, looking almost embarrassed. She gave Trevor to Neville and for a short moment Trevor was still before beginning to struggle again.
"I-it's all right. Besides, y-you looked for m-me to give him b-back," Neville stuttered. She knew his stuttering was because he was shy. She found it amusing.
"Miss Ignotum," said a drawling voice and Islinn almost sighed. Why now? She turned and stepped to the side and saw the little bow Malfoy gave her.
"Mister Malfoy," she said, dipping into a small curtsy.
"I am glad to see you again," he stated.
"I should say the same," she replied, inclining her head. At that time, Professor McGonagall asked for a single file line, so Islinn ended up between Neville and Malfoy. They walked to the middle of the Great Hall and Islinn was thoroughly impressed. She thought they should have arranged them in alphabetical order but, who was she to say how it was done? When they stopped Islinn noticed a stool and the Hat on it. When everyone was quiet the Hat began a song. The rip near the brim served as its mouth. The song was well composed and it named the attributes each House focused on. Slytherins would do anything to get their way, Gryffindors were brave, Ravenclaws were clever, and Hufflepuffs were witty and studious. After a pause Professor McGonagall called the first name. A scared-looking girl walked up to the stool. She sat and placed the Hat on her head. A little pause and the Hat shouted, "Gryffindor!" The table near by exploded into applause.
It continued and Hermione was placed in Gryffindor as well. Even though Islinn was glad of that she felt nervous and after what didn't feel long enough, Professor McGonagall called,
"Ignotum, Islinn."
"Good luck," she heard Neville say behind her. She nodded once to indicate she heard. She drew herself up to her full height and she walked toward the stool. All whispering had stopped and everyone was looking at her. She couldn't fathom why. She sat and placed the Hat on her head. The Hat was too big on her head and it slipped over her eyes. She was partially glad about that. There was a buzzing noise and then the Hat began to speak.
"Well, well. You're going to be tough to Sort, but no matter, that is why I am here. Let's see, yes, you're very brave; you would make a great Gryffindor. Ah, but you are also witty, Hufflepuff would suit you well. Witty as you are you are also clever, like a true Ravenclaw. However, you have potential, you are not afraid to take –"
"I do not wish to be in Slytherin. Anything but Slytherin, please," Islinn interrupted.
"You could go very far if you are a Slytherin. You could obtain what you most desire," the Hat informed her.
"Still, I do not wish to be put in Slytherin. The prospect does not tempt me."
"There is still the fact there are three Houses you could be Sorted into. Is there a preference?"
"No, what ever you choose is all right, except Slytherin."
"All right. Let us rule out Slytherin and Hufflepuff."
"Very well."
"Ravenclaw or Gryffindor? I believe you would be better off in… Gryffindor!" the Hat shouted the last word. She took off the Hat and placed it on the stool. She made her way to the loudest table, the Gryffindor table. She sat between a pair of redheaded twins because she could not find Hermione. The twins patted her on the back as if Islinn had known them for years.
"Glad you're in Gryffindor-"
"-but we could tell you were a Gryffindor anyway," the twin on the right finished.
"I'm Fred Weasley," the twin on the left introduced himself.
"And I'm George Weasley," the twin on the right offered.
"Older brothers of Mister Ronald Weasley?" Islinn queried slightly amused.
"Oh, no, what gave us away?" Fred asked, looking alarmed.
"Besides the hair and the fact you have the same surname, I do not know," Islinn replied. The twins grinned.
"You have a good sense of humor," said George. She just shook her head at them. Another round of applause as someone was put in Gryffindor. "So, how do you know Ron?"
"I met him on the train," Islinn said.
"Hey, you know Harry Potter right?" asked Fred. When Islinn nodded he said, "I'll bet he'll be put in Gryffindor." His twin agreed. Islinn almost smiled, she hoped they were right.
"Longbottom, Neville," McGonagall called. Neville seemed to be scared out of his mind as he stumbled toward the stool. Islinn noticed he didn't have Trevor anymore and wondered where the toad was. She saw as Neville clumsily put on the Hat and in a little while he was Sorted into Gryffindor. Islinn applauded loudly with the rest of the Gryffindors. Fred made room and Neville sat down next to Islinn.
"Congratulations," Islinn said to a happy Neville. He blushed darker.
"You too," he managed, smiling a bit. She decided not to ask about Trevor, besides, Neville didn't look worried. She found she enjoyed Neville's company as she enjoyed Hermione, Ron, and Harry's. Neville was shy but she did not mind it. She found it amusing and it presented a challenge she would take if he liked her company too.
"Malfoy, Draco," McGonagall called. Islinn saw as Draco walked up to the stool confidently. The Hat barely touched his head when it shouted, "Slytherin!" Islinn saw Draco smirk as he took off the Hat. He caught her eye before walking to the table. He shook his head slightly. When he sat, she sighed in relief.
"You know Malfoy?" George asked frowning.
"I met him on the train. I shared a compartment with Mister Potter and Mister Weasley. Mister Malfoy came in to speak to Mister Potter and Mister Potter let him down and then Mister Malfoy turned to me. He was nice to me but not to your brother, and he made an unkind response to Mister Potter. I found I did not like Mister Malfoy at all," Islinn explained.
"So, you're on our side," Fred said grinning.
"I am on your side as long as you are on mine," she responded teasingly, raising an eyebrow.
"Cool, we share a side then," George commented. Another smile was hinted on her features. They all continued to watch the Sorting.
Not much time after, Islinn was only half listening to the Sorting. Her mind was reeling again, running through memories, though this time the memories were her own. These memories have been haunting her ever since it did happen. She was guilty despite the other's protests, and she was sure some managed to blame her for things she didn't even do. She remembers that night as if it had happened yesterday. She remembers him lying on the ground in front of her and his father torturing him. She remembers her bindings and how she wasn't strong enough to break them in time. She remembers the silence in the room despite of the battle going on outside of it. She remembers driving the sword through his father and then his sister running in to finish it all, only to find it finished. The hardest part was seeing their sadness for him, but it was worse that not one of her friends blamed her for what she did and instead, they called her brave.
"Potter, Harry," McGonagall called, reality breaking through her thoughts. She found herself sitting stiffly, nails digging into her palms. The silence was as heavy as it had been for her. She could tell he was very nervous, but he walked with determination. He placed the Hat on his head and there was a long pause. Islinn had to agree with the twins and would be utterly surprised if he wasn't put in Gryffindor. She found herself feeling as nervous as Harry looked, nails digging deeper into her palms. After a moment, and much to her relief, the Hat shouted, "Gryffindor!" Islinn clapped hard, and barely registered the sharp sting in her hands as she clapped. Harry settled himself in front of her. She gave him a faint smile and inclined her head slightly.
"Congratulations Mister Potter," she said. Harry grinned widely at her. Many people shook his hand and patted him on the back, including the twins.
"Islinn!" came an alarmed voice beside her. She turned to Neville, who was blushing, but he was not looking up at her but rather down at her lap. She followed his gaze to her hands folded neatly in her lap. She looked back at Neville confused. Neville net her gaze, his brown eyes wide and alarmed.
"Y-you're… I th-think, uh…" Neville gave up his trying to explain and instead took her wrist and turned her hand over, palm-side up. He can't believe she didn't feel it! She seemed surprised to see her palms bleeding from where her nails had dug in.
"Oh, I supposed I did not realize it," she said, withdrawing her wand carefully with her other hand, trying not to get her wand bloody.
"How did you not feel that?" Neville asked. He was shocked enough to not feel embarrassed.
"Sometimes, Mister Longbottom, there are worse pains than this," she replied calmly. He looked down, thinking about his parents and wandered if she had gone through the same cursed spell. It would explain her almost emotionless state. It would explain the fact her almost perceptible smiles never touched her eyes. He noticed then he was still holding her wrist. He was about to let go when Islinn said, "Could you please tighten your grip, please?" He was confused by her request but obliged. She tapped her palm twice with her wand and the bleeding stopped. A small shudder that he felt went through her body. She told him to take the other wrist and when he did, she repeated her motions. "Thank you Mister Longbottom. If you had not held on, the shudder would have been almost convulsive. I do not wish to attract attention," she explained. He nodded and let go. After a moment something she did registered in his brain.
"You can do nonverbal spells!" he exclaimed. Luckily, the Gryffindors had burst into applause almost drowning his exclamation. She looked at him wordlessly for a moment and though her expression didn't change, her eyes had widened infinitesimally and he saw her fear in them.
"I beg you to not tell anyone, please Mister Longbottom. Please," she said the fear more prominent in her intense, dark blue eyes.
"D-don't worry, it's o-okay. I won't tell unless y-you tell me it's okay," he said trying to reassure her. Her fear had somehow made her seem more… human. It showed she was capable of feeling and this made Neville feel more at ease. He enjoyed her company because she was nice but felt nervous around her because of her strict composure.
"Thank you," she said, her eyes showing her relief. She gave him a faint smile which he retuned with a shy smile of his own. He saw her body relax and he felt his body relax also. He was glad that Islinn and Hermione were in the same House because both were nice to him, and maybe, just maybe, he could ask Islinn to teach him how to make Trevor stay.
He remembered his last visit to St. Mungo with his grandmother. His parents… he wished they could be well and could have seen him leave on the Hogwarts Express but he knew they couldn't. It all had been her fault. He knew that it was really Voldemort's fault, but he was angry at her because she had tortured them into insanity. One day she was going to pay. He knew he couldn't do it, his grandmother was always telling him how unlike his father he was. Neville wasn't brave or talented enough to compare to his father. So, if he was inferior to his father, he'd never be able to take on and beat Bellatrix Lestrange in a duel.
"Mister Longbottom, are you all right?" came a concerned yet calm voice beside him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked to see Islinn looking at him with a raised eyebrow. She looked concerned as she waited for his response. He felt his face begin to heat and he said,
"I-I'm fine, th-thank you." She tilted her head to the side a little and gave him a doubtful look but she nodded and let the hand on his shoulder drop. She was concerned for him? Why? Maybe she just didn't want him to collapse on her… yeah, that's what it was.
"Weasley, Ronald," McGonagall called. Neville saw a redhead walk toward the stool and recognized him from the train. He had been sitting with Islinn and Harry. He saw Islinn sit a little straighter in her seat and clasped her hands together, though her expression was impassive. She didn't have to wait long before clapping. He had been Sorted into Gryffindor. He took a seat next to Harry and was teased by the twins. Then Islinn inclined her head and said,
"Congratulations, Mister Weasley."
"Thanks. You too," Ron replied grinning widely, like Harry had done.
A little while after the Sorting ended, the feast begun. Neville noticed that Islinn's table manners could put almost anyone's here to shame. It would make his grandmother proud if Neville himself had such table manners. He also noticed she didn't eat much.
"What ever happened to using your hands?" Fred asked Islinn.
"I see you aren't using your hands to eat," Islinn pointed out.
"That was an expression. I think you should know you'll end up as bad as the rest of us," George supplied.
"You plan to corrupt me?" the girl asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Corrupt you? Never," Fred said with mock indignation.
"We only want what's in your best interest. We want you to act your age," George rejoined.
"I wish you luck in your challenge. Oh, just a warning, you are not the first to try it," Islinn said casually, a faint smile on her features, though Neville saw her fist her hand and her knuckles turned bone white.
"We'll see," the twins said smugly. They ate in silence, well Islinn and Neville ate in silence, but everyone around them was in light conversation.
Islinn had been feeling a little smug. Fred and George weren't the first to try to influence her style. Then she remembered that he had tried to do the same when she was younger. The warning she gave the twins was hard because she remembered him, her best friend. He had been like a brother to her; he was the closest thing she had to a family.
She continued to eat feeling much worse than before, and again she was lost in her own world until she felt it. She felt someone staring at her and it wasn't Draco Malfoy. She turned a little in her seat and her gaze rested on the table where the professors were eating. She immediate recognized him from her father's memories although this person looked more wary than she – or her father – remembered. At first she thought he was looking at Harry, but quickly learned he was staring straight at her, his gaze unwavering. She looked back with a steady gaze; black eyes locked on blue. There was something in his eyes she couldn't decipher and she looked back trying to appear calm, friendly, and curious. She didn't know how long it went on, but it couldn't have been long because nobody noticed. She inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement, and he did the same, though surprise flickered in his dark eyes.
She returned to her food feeling a little bad for Professor Snape. She knew some of what he had gone through when he had been a student at Hogwarts thanks to her father's memories. She would not tell Snape how bad she felt about that, though she hadn't even been born at the time because to him, her pity would be an insult. Of course, she would treat him with respect, just as she would any other teacher. She would not draw conclusions about him, for it would be unfair.
Through Dumbledore's speech she did not entirely listen. She caught some things, such as the welcome, the warnings, and the tidbit about telling the students not to fret if a hawk happened to come in. He explained the hawk was simply a delivery bird. She was vaguely aware of the quiet murmurs that ran through the hall. Though Dumbledore's speech was interesting, her mind was full of other thoughts. Her mind seemed to be racing a mile a minute; her memories were in a tangle with her father's. She could not concentrate entirely on a single thing and it was beginning to give her a headache. She was glad when the speech ended and they were allowed to go to their respective common rooms. She stood and many people looked at her when she did so and she did not understand why. She and Neville walked together because Harry and Ron were too distracted to notice her absence.
"Islinn! Neville!" exclaimed a voice. Islinn was pleasantly surprised when she recognized the voice.
"Hi Hermione," Neville said.
"Hello Miss Granger. It is a pleasant surprise to see you again," Islinn greeted. Hermione nodded, she was really happy.
"I'm so glad we're all in the same House," Hermione said beaming.
"As am I," replied Islinn, her lips twitched upward.
"Me too, and we're in Gryffindor," Neville rejoined almost beaming and Hermione agreed.
"This is all so exciting," Hermione said, sounding ecstatic.
"I agree," contributed Islinn. She remembered the different times she dreamed of going to Hogwarts because her father always spoke so greatly of it. They reached the moving staircase that would take them to the Gryffindor tower. Although she knew, Islinn was awed by the way the staircase moved. The Gryffindor's got on it and climbed upward. The prefect gave the password and everyone climbed inside. Through the jumble of people she lost sight of everyone she knew. Islinn sighed and looked around. She couldn't find anyone she knew. She turned to go look for either of her four acquaintances when someone bumped into her. She turned to see a burly boy who looked a lot older than her, maybe about fifteen or sixteen.
"I'm sorry," he said a little distracted.
"Do not trouble yourself," she replied. She was about to turn when she heard the boy say,
"Are you a transfer student?"
Islinn looked at him confused. "No," she replied.
"Oh, you're that girl…" he trailed off and she wondered what he was talking about. He seemed to recover and said, "Oh, well, I'm Oliver Wood."
Islinn curtsied and said, "My name is Islinn Ignotum and it is a pleasure to meet you Mister Wood." There was a slightly uncomfortable silence and Oliver said,
"I'm Quiddich captain this year, I play Keeper. Do you like Quiddich?" There was a faint pride in his voice. Islinn's lips quirked.
"If you are captain I have no doubt at all that you are very good. I enjoy the subject of Quiddich very much. I would be more than delighted if I had the opportunity of playing," she rejoined.
There was a slight blush from Oliver at Islinn's praise, but he spoke confidently. "Thank you. It'd be great if you could try out next year." Islinn inclined her head and after a pause Oliver said, "I like Quiddich a lot too, but everyone just tells me I'm obsessed."
"If obsessed means not being able to stop talking about it once one gets started then I believe myself to be a little obsessed myself," Islinn said to Oliver's pleasure. Islinn really liked Quiddich. She knew all the rules and positions but had never seen a game. Her and her father had spent hours talking about it. Her mother had liked it also and would occasionally contribute a comment.
"So you'd come watch the matches?" Oliver asked.
"I would like to. It does sound like much fun," Islinn responded. Before Oliver could comment Islinn felt hands cover her eyes leaving her in utter darkness. She quelled down her instinct of self defense and settled for stiffening.
"Guess who," a playful voice asked. Islinn did not have a clue how she knew it was him. Reflexively, she put a hand over the hands covering her eyes. She couldn't get over the surprise at herself for knowing.
"Mister George Weasley?" she asked a little startled. The hands dropped from her eyes. Islinn stepped to the side as she turned so her back wouldn't be to Oliver.
"I'm Fred," the twin said grinning.
"No, you are not," she said confused. Why was he playing games like that?
"How do you know I'm not Fred?" he asked, still grinning.
She frowned wondering the same thing. Maybe it was… an added ability? Of course it wasn't… maybe. "I do not really know how I know. I just know you are Mister George Weasley," Islinn said.
"She can tell us apart. Don't know if that's good or not," Fred said, standing next to George. Then he said to Islinn, "Almost everyone can't tell us apart. Our mum gets us confused sometimes."
"You know her?" Oliver asked surprised. After all, she couldn't just know which twin was which if she just met them. Even he couldn't tell.
"We just met her in the Hall. She sat between us," Fred answered.
"She has a good sense of humor though," supplied George. Islinn wasn't really sure about that compliment, after all she never thought her sense of humor was good, but felt flattered all the same. Really, if they said it, maybe she did; the twins seemed to be experts in the area. Islinn remembered that she was supposed to be looking for the people she knew in her year.
"I am so sorry, but I am looking for someone. I am glad to see you both again though, and it was a pleasure to meet you Mister Wood. I will be delighted to watch you play," Islinn said and inclined her head and left. She did catch the look the twins gave Oliver.
It was quite unfortunate that Islinn couldn't find anyone she knew. Defeated, she decided to go to the girls' dormitory. At least there she might be able to find Hermione. When she entered the dorm it was slightly illuminated, but she could make out her trunk. She got to it and she changed into pajamas. Islinn really wasn't one for nightgowns, she felt most insecure with them, so she settled with flannel pajama bottoms or shorts. Tonight it would be black flannel bottoms and a dark red tank top.
"Islinn?" she heard someone call as she folded her robes.
"Miss Granger," Islinn replied, inclining her head toward the voice. Islinn hoped it was dim enough for Hermione not to notice the marks on her arms.
"I was looking for you," both girls said simultaneously. Hermione smiled and a hint of a smile reached Islinn's features.
"I decided to go to the dormitory since I could not find any of you," Islinn explained.
"Yeah, Neville and I decided to go to bed too. We looked but we couldn't find you, and even though we're excited we should try to sleep early because we start classes tomorrow," Hermione supplied.
"I agree," responded Islinn and then said, "I must say I am glad we share a dormitory. I really do hope we have a similar schedule because I enjoy your company," said Islinn sincerely.
"Me too," Hermione said smiling. Then she frowned and asked, "Are you a pureblood? I kept hearing it on the train, and it's simple to know what the terms mean."
"Is there any particular reason you want to know? Is it my attitude?" Islinn asked. After all, Malfoy had wanted to know the same thing, and he himself is a pureblood.
"Well, yeah, your manners. I'm curious but you don't have to tell. I'm… is muggle-born the right term? Neither of my parents have magic," Hermione explained.
What a smart girl, Islinn thought. Hermione told Islinn her blood status so Islinn will feel obligated to do the same. "I was merely curious about your reason. Yes, muggle-born is the correct term and no, I am not a pureblood, I am a half-blood," Islinn answered and Hermione nodded.
"So, what do you think about… all this?" Hermione asked after a pause. Eyes trained on Islinn, Hermione sat on Islinn's bed.
"Truthfully there are no words to describe what I think. Everything is new and wonderful and exciting. I think that if this was a dream I definitely would not want to wake up," Islinn responded. It was true; her dreams were finally coming true! Islinn couldn't believe she was actually here. "What do you think about it, Miss Granger?"
"Much the same. If I had to describe everything in one word, I would debate whether I should use 'unbelievable', 'beautiful', or 'speechless'," Hermione said grinning. One side of Islinn's mouth quirked upward.
"I am sorry Miss Granger, even though I doubt we will be able to sleep, maybe it would be for the best if we had some rest before tomorrow," Islinn said.
"Right. We do have classes tomorrow. This is exciting, but you're right, we should try to sleep. Night Islinn," Hermione said, standing from Islinn's bed and stretching before going to her own bed.
"Good night Miss Granger," Islinn replied, inclining her head. Then, Islinn drew the curtains and slipped under the covers. Islinn's mind wouldn't let her sleep… could she just not think for a little while? Everything about the battle kept playing itself over and over, and to those memories were added the ones she had extracted from her parents of how they were killed by… that woman. After who knows how long, Islinn fell into a restless sleep.
It was a dream, she was sure of it. She pinched herself… and it hurt. What are the odds of a pinch hurting in a dream? She couldn't see anything and from what she could tell, she was very alone. Islinn walked slowly, straining her other senses to make up for the fact she couldn't see. She heard a faint grunt and in the distance saw a dim light and a figure. Taken over by instinct, Islinn began running toward the figure, but her body felt slow and heavy. She stopped running abruptly when she recognized the figure. Her heart was racing and her breathing was uneven. No… why?
"Idris…" the figure said his honey colored eyes accusing. He was holding his side with one hand while supporting himself on the ground with his knees and his other hand. His golden hair was matted, his face pained.
"I am so, so sorry," she managed to whisper.
"Doesn't… fix it," he said and then he asked, "Why?" His voice sounded hurt.
"I could not… he had me… I am sorry," she said, her voice breaking and she dropped in front of him and tears ran slowly down her face, almost tickling her skin.
"Thought you… were my… friend," he said. "You were like… a sister," he said, looking at her with such an intense look of hurt, betrayal, and pleading that she had to look away. Her gaze landed on two figures that were coming closer, and as they neared she recognized them as her parents.
"Mum! Dad!" she exclaimed in a childish manner that nobody aside from her parents had seen her perform in real life. Her parents looked at her sadly and shook their heads.
"We use to be so proud of you. Why did you do this to him?" her father asked disappointment clear in his voice.
"I could not break my bindings in time," she answered in a small voice, very un-Islinn-like.
"You are trained. That is not an excuse, how could you? I cannot believe you are our daughter; we did not raise you that way," her mother said sadly. Islinn bowed her head in shame as she felt a new wave of tears coming. They are right. This is my entire fault, Islinn thought distraught.
"How are you going to protect The-Boy-Who-Lived if you could not even save your friend?" her father asked.
"Things are different now," Islinn whispered. She looked to the right and there were her friends; they all looked heart-broken. Before she had to hear anymore she stood and began running away from all of them, into the safety of the darkness. Then she saw a mass of blackness, blacker than the night, and she stopped, petrified, because she knew what it was. "Agamemnon," she breathed.
"Tell me, what will it be this time?" it said mockingly. Islinn ran to a new direction. She ran as far away from everything as she could…
Islinn sat bolt upright on her bed, breathing heavily, sweating beading on her forehead, tears still running down her cheeks. She managed to calm down enough to slow her breathing. She couldn't stay in bed so she threw back the covers and opened the curtains. It is late; everyone is probably asleep, thought Islinn. She walked down to the empty common room. She couldn't just stand there without anything to do so she began pacing.
Neville couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw his parents. He supposed that visiting St. Mungo's the day he was supposed to leave to Hogwarts wasn't a good idea after all. He tried to sleep but he kept seeing the images of his parents every time he closed his eyes. He needed to think and the covers felt so uncomfortable he threw them back. Unfortunately, he shared this dorm and some of the people snored. How could he think with the snoring going on? He decided to go to the common room. Who'd be there anyway? He drew back his curtains and went downstairs. He was almost there when he heard something. Was someone in the common room? He edged closer and saw a girl kneeling in front of the fire. She was angled toward him but he didn't need to see her face to recognize Islinn's dark red hair.
Neville saw her rocking back and forth clutching something to her chest. He was distracted by the shimmering of her arms. When the fire hit her arms just right, he saw shimmering and intricate marks on her arms, like old scars. He was awed but was taken out of his reverie when he heard Islinn whispering. "Jace… Jace, I am so sorry. It is my fault, all of it entirely my fault. I just could not… I did not struggle enough. If I could just do anything to fix it, to help, I would." She seemed to be far away in mind and her tone surprised Neville. She sounded hurt, tortured, and guilty. What could she have done to sound so distressed? She sounded so troubled. It couldn't be that bad, it's not like she killed anybody, Neville thought. Taken out of his thoughts yet again, Neville saw Islinn hold out her hand, palm-up and he saw her holding a necklace, but the charm that was supposed to be at the end wasn't a charm but a smooth stone. "This is for you Jace," she whispered. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back a little. Then from the stone, there was a burst of light almost as bright as the sun, before it dimmed and went back to normal. Islinn's hands were trembling noticeably. She opened her eyes and stared blankly at the stone.
Without really thinking what he was doing, he took a step toward Islinn. She heard him and she stiffened for a fraction of a second before swiftly and gracefully standing. She faced away from him a moment and placed her necklace in its rightful place. She turned back to him and her face was impassive as always but upon closer examination he saw her face flushed the traces of tear tracks on her cheeks and her eyes seemed abnormally bright. Had she been crying? He noticed she was struggling to keep a smooth expression and saw her hands trembling slightly. Before now he had seen the cool, collected, and unemotional Islinn. Thinking about her crying would have seemed impossible, but looking at her now, acting most un-Islinn-like he saw that they weren't much different. Islinn curtsied and said,
"I hope you can forgive me Mister Longbottom. I was not aware that you were here."
"I couldn't sleep," he explained lamely.
"I was restless myself," she responded. "Well, I bid you a good night," she added and began to make her way toward the girls' dormitory.
"Wait," he said and when she turned he continued, "Y-you don't have t-to go." He felt a little awkward, but it wasn't fair. After all, Islinn had been here first. She looked at him a moment before saying,
"You do not have to leave either, Mister Longbottom."
"I know," he said. He felt really bad for Islinn. He didn't know her that well, in fact, he didn't really know her, but she looked so sad. It must be hard to seem calm when you feel really sad, thought Neville and wondered what had happened. Of course, he wouldn't ask because it would be rude and she most likely wouldn't even tell him. He'd ask when it was right to ask, when he knew her a lot better; that would be fair.
They were sitting in a love seat. Islinn had her arms around her knees and her chin rested on top of her knees. Neither of them spoke, both staring into space, each lost in their own world.
Neville didn't know how much time passed but it must have been a very long time. He was thinking away when he felt Islinn leaning against him. Surprised, he looked at her and saw her asleep. He saw there were new tear tracks on her cheeks and her eyelashes glistened with tears. She looked at ease, even vulnerable. Neville thought she looked so much younger and innocent. She looked peaceful, unlike the girl he had seen a moment ago, the one who was sad. He didn't know what happened to him. It was strange feeling as sad as she had seemed when he didn't really know her. "Sometimes, Mister Longbottom, there are worse pains than this," Islinn had said to him in the Great Hall. In some odd way they were alike. Remembering her discomposure, her almost sad smiles, her haunted expression, and his own problems, he knew she was right. Something in him changed and despite the fact he was an only child he felt a brotherly protectiveness toward her even though he was almost positive she was much more capable than him.
Feeling a lot better and a friendly and brotherly affection for Islinn, he shifted to a more comfortable position while trying not to wake her. He put his head gently on top of hers and fell asleep.