Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling.
xXx Hey guys, sorry about the delay in updating. I really have been procrastinating with this story. Also, I only have one review. Shout out to 13, who couldn't wait for the next chapter, which I, ironically, have been late in publishing. I'll try to update regularly from now on, but I might forget. If you think the next chapter is taking too long, message me on here and I will do my best to publish a.s.a.p. Thanks guys! xXx
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Chapter 3
As soon as the hat stopped singing, Professor McGonagall stepped up to the stool in a very business-like manner and called out the first name, "Ashwinder, Merope". The girl bravely walked up to the high table and sat on the stool. McGonagall placed the old hat on her head and it came to rest just covering her eyes. After a few seconds, the hat's mouth opened and yelled "Hufflepuff." She smiled at the cheering table and headed over and took a seat next to a handsome fifth-year, who smiled at her gently.
The line in front of Oura shortened quickly and soon the last person in front of her, "Wrackspurt, Uric" was called and sent to Slytherin. Finally, McGonagall looked down at Oura. Then she turned to the 4 house table.
"As many of you already know, we have, for the first time in Hogwarts history, a transfer student from Beauxbatons. She is a fifth-year, and from what I collect, she is a brilliant witch already. She had to come here for personal reasons and I expect you to respect her privacy," she glared at those whispering behind their hands. "This is Oura Marvolo."
Oura slowly walked to the High Table and sat on the stool. Professor McGonagall dropped the hat on her head and she was immersed in darkness. Then she heard a voice in her mind.
Interesting. You know, I sorted your father, into Slytherin, I believe. He is a powerful wizard, and you have a lot of his talent. You would do good in Slytherin as well.
NO! I'm nothing like my father. He is a murderer and I would rather die than be like him, Oura nearly screamed out loud. She would never be like her father.
No, you're right, Slytherin won't do. You have too much hatred for that House, and your intelligence is outstanding. All right, better be… RAVENCLAW!
The last word the hat called out to the silent school. The Ravenclaws burst into applause, many standing up to see their new Housemate. Luna was one of the loudest clapping.
As Oura headed towards the table, a gentle smile adorning her face, a tall, handsome 6th year scooted over, smirking and seeming to think she would sit next to him. She walked past him and he gaped as she strode to the end of the bench and sat down next to Luna. Oura raised her eyebrows at the people who were still staring and they hastily looked away. She grinned at Luna, then turned back to the front as Professor Dumbledore stood and waited for quiet.
"To our newcomers," he said in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"
There was a hearty laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate - for food had appeared out of nowhere, so the five long tables were groaning under all the heaping platters.
Oura, who came last year for the Triwizard Tournament, nearly gasped out loud. She had forgotten how the food appeared before her. In Beauxbatons, the wood nymphs, who also serenade the students when they eat, serve the food.
Oura looked around for something familiar, but she saw no French foods. She hesitated. She didn't know what to take. Luna, fortunately, came to her rescue. Luna persuaded her to try the roast lamb and Oura even braved what Luna called "Toad-in-the-Hole", which was like Yorkshire Pudding, but stuffed with sausages. It turned out to be pretty good.
Soon, she and Luna were laughing happily and talked about different things. After some time, the conversation turned to Oura's family. Oura was always uncomfortable about talking about her father, and tended to avoid talking about him at all, so she started talking about her mother.
"My mum has beautiful green-hazel eyes and crazy, curly black that is almost like Hermione's." Oura started, and soon she couldn't stop. "My mum uses this tie-dye handkerchief to keep it out of her eyes. She's really funny, but really protective... because my father threatened both of us when I was just an infant. My mum fled the country to France, where the government covered our tracks to help hide us. If he wanted, my dad probably could have found us, but he was... busy. My mum is still in love with him, though. She came back to make amends, now that she thinks I can protect myself. She can be really stupid sometimes. Even I know he won't forgive her." Oura swallowed gently. Luna just nodded and didn't push for her to say anything more.
Suddenly, Oura wasn't hungry anymore. Thankfully, the desserts soon disappeared and Dumbledore stood again. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the headmaster. Oura just wanted to go to bed now, and hoped he would be quick.
"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices" said Dumbledore. "First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now too." Oura saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchange smirks and wondered what they knew.
"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.
"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
There was a round of polite, but fairly unenthusiastic applause. Oura immediately decided she didn't like Professor Umbridge. She looked too fake, and her frog-like face adorned a sickening smile that gave Oura a qualm, which she didn't like at all.
Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the -" He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, "Hem, hem," and it became clear that she had gotten to her feet and was intending on making a speech.
Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Oura could tell, even if Professor Umbridge could not, that what she just did was something that never happened before. The other staff members didn't even try to hide their suprise and the students had begun to murmur amongst themselves. This woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."
Her voice was high-pitched, breathy, and little-girlish. Oura felt even more loathing for the tiny woman in front of her. Umbridge gave another little throat-clearing cough ("Hem, hem") and continued: "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me."
None of the faces around Oura looked happy. In fact, they all looked taken aback at being addressed as though they were five-year-olds.
"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends"
When Umbridge started again, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and her words now had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them.
"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."
Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back to her.
"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. Then again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation..."
Oura stopped listening at this point. She was tired and wanted to go to bed. She looked around to see the other students not paying any attention, except maybe Hermione, whose face seemed to frown more and more as Umbridge spoke. Oura dully wondered what was making her upset. Luna pulled out The Quibbler, and Oura read an article over the girl's shoulder.
Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience. The teachers were still listening attentively and Hermione seemed to drink in every word this toad-like woman said.
". . . because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."
She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Oura noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.
Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,' he said, bowing to her. "Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held . . ."
Oura thought about what Umbridge just said. It sounded like the government was trying to control the school. That confused Oura. She always thought the school and the Ministry were separate.
There was a great clamour as everyone stood and Oura followed Luna out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. The portraits waved at her and ghosts floated here and there.
"Look out," Luna said, the dreamy sound in her voice was gone, and she seemed a bit desperate, "here comes Peeves."
Peeves turned out to be a poltergeist who looked like a little man dressed in loud, outlandish clothes including a bell-covered hat and an orange bow tie. He had black hair and compared to the Hogwarts ghosts, he was solid-looking, not pearly white and transparent. He flew over their heads, throwing bits of chalk in Oura's fiery hair.
When he flew out of sight, Luna sighed with relief. "He's usually much worse. The only one who can control him is the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin Ghost." Luna led her around a courtyard, up some stairs, under a tapestry and up a spiral staircase to a door with no handle or lock, just a brass knocker of an eagle.
Luna knocked and the eagle's beak opened and said,
"Turn us on our backs
And open up our stomachs
You will be the wisest of men
Though at start a lummox"
"You have to answer the riddle to enter the common room" Luna explained
"What if you answer wrong?" Oura asked
"You have to wait for someone else to come and answer correctly. What do you think the answer is?"
Oura thought a bit. Then she realized "Books. You are books"
The knocker nodded, "It was wise to place you in Ravenclaw," and the door swung open, revealing a very roomy common room with deep blue couches and floor to ceiling windows and bookshelves that stretched up and up to the top of the tower. Most of the others were already there, sitting around the fire, reading or chatting quietly.
Some looked up when the girls entered and one or two smiled towards them. A very attractive girl of Chinese descent, with long, shining dark hair and eyes and freckles on her nose walked up and pulled Oura out of Luna's earshot.
"Hi, I'm Cho. I know you're new here, and don't really know any better, but you really shouldn't hang out with her. She's really... off. You'll do better if you hang out with me and my friends. You don't want to be known as her friend. Just letting you know." Cho smiled at her.
Oura smiled sarcastically back, "Thanks, but I'm perfectly aware she's odd, but at least she doesn't talk bad about people behind their back and try to take their friends away. Besides, you're not the kind of person I would want to hang out with. Just letting you know." With that, Oura spun on her heel and chased after Luna, leaving a very shocked Cho in her wake.
Luna led her to the hidden staircase to the girls' dormitory and Oura found that her things were placed next to a bed that sat in a nook that seemed to stick out of the tower. She had a tall wardrobe and a desk with a full inkwell and a drawer with a few extra rolls of parchment. Her cat, Sterling, was curled up on her pillow, fast asleep, but woke when she opened her trunk and unpacked with a flick of her wand.
Luna's bed was next to hers and she smiled as she unpacked the same way. Oura called good night as she changed into her night things and pulled her curtain, soon falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.