A/N:

Hi, new chapter!

Sometimes I use book canon and sometimes I use movie canon. Sometimes, just to be silly, I use my own canon. I assure you, if you see something that you don't remember from the novels, it's (probably) intentional.

Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading so far. I'm still trying to get a handle on writing this type of story, so thank you for being patient with me in the meantime :)

LIGHTNING STRIKES TWICE – HARRY POTTER'S FAMILY KILLED IN TRAGIC 'ACCIDENT'

Harry Potter, 15, has been left orphaned once again following the tragic death of his muggle uncle last month in Surrey. While his death was ruled an accident, various anonymous sources maintain that the legitimacy of the ruling should be questioned.

Potter was already considered for his involvement in the untimely death of Cedric Diggory - the runner-up of the latest Triwizard Tournament - earlier this summer. The boy, who happened to be Potter's primary competition at the time, was also declared the victim of a 'terrible accident'. Concerned citizens have begun to worry that this sequence of events is no mere coincidence.

The Ministry of Magic has already confirmed that Harry Potter has a precedent for acts of violence upon family members; In 1993, Potter blew up his aunt in a fit of rage, a crime that at the time, was ruled 'accidental'-

Hermione threw the newspaper to the side of their train car, tears already starting to form at the corners of her eyes. The Daily Prophet had been printing similar articles almost every day since Vernon's death, and while Harry and Ron had grown rather numb to them by now, they still affected Hermione.

"How could they be so insensitive!" she huffed, looking at the scrunched up paper as if it were a dangerous object. "They clearly don't have any evidence to support any of their claims, so they just force their ludicrous conspiracies down everyone's throat until they believe it!"

Harry shrugged dispassionately. "And it works. You saw how everyone treated me on the platform."

While the trio had tried calling out to a few of their acquaintances upon arriving at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, all three were avoided like the plague. Even some of the adults present seemed to cringe away at the sight of Harry, as if he might pull out his wand and start indiscriminately casting curses at any moment.

"It's like Sirius told us," Ron said. "The ministry's just looking for a distraction. If everyone focuses their attention towards you, they don't have to admit that Voldemort's back."

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied with a sigh. "But I was still hoping for better, I guess. Not expecting better, mind you, but still hoping."

Ron gave him a sympathetic grimace, and Harry went back to staring out the window, lost in thought. It was disheartening for him to see the people he once would've exchanged pleasant words with dodging him like a bludger, but that was only one of his several concerns at the moment.

He still hadn't told anyone about Gabrielle or the truth behind his uncle's murder, and he was now quite certain that he had lost his chance; if he told them now, it would seem like he was merely trying to deflect the Prophet's accusations. In any case, the idea that a teenage girl from France broke into his house and killed his uncle was so farcical that he was almost starting to doubt its legitimacy himself. His creepy hallucination of Lord Voldemort on the train platform while waiting for the Hogwarts Express a few hours ago didn't help his case very much.

Maybe all the stress has finally driven me mad, he thought. When this is all over, I should check myself into St. Mungo's…

A squeak broke Harry out of his musings, and all three friends turned to the door as a younger student they didn't know walked by their compartment. The kid took one look at Harry, paled noticeably, and bolted back down the hallway.

Of course, I'll have to get through this school year without cracking first, he added miserably.

And make sure I don't get convicted of murder in the meantime, he appended, trying to pull free from Ron's arms so he could throttle Draco Malfoy.

Less than a minute had passed since they got off the Hogwarts Express, and the Malfoy scion had already found a way to get under Harry's skin. If he were in a slightly more jovial mood he might've found it funny that Draco of all people was taunting him with the prospect of being sent to Azkaban, but he wasn't feeling particularly jovial at the moment.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione said, pulling him by the arm. "Forget about Malfoy. We're going to miss the carriages if we dawdle any longer."

He let himself get dragged away, and the trio of friends made it in time to catch what seemed to be the last carriage. They climbed up and found they were sharing the ride with a rather nonplussed Neville Longbottom, and a younger female student who was reading a magazine without a care in the world. Harry wasn't sure who the girl was, but he was glad she wasn't running away from him on sight; between her, Neville, and his friends, he almost felt a bit of normalcy.

…Assuming he ignored the fact that there was a spooky black equine pulling the carriage, and he wasn't sure if it was real or just another one of his hallucinations.

And as it just so happened, he was ignoring that fact.

"So uh," Neville began awkwardly as no one spoke. "Did you guys have a nice summer?"

They simultaneously raised their eyebrows at him, and a moment later Neville realized he had chosen a terrible ice breaker. Thankfully, he was saved by the mysterious girl next to him, whose face was still hidden by the magazine.

"I had a rotten summer," she replied nonchalantly. "Me and Dad spent most of it trying to deal with the infestation of moon fairies in our garden."

"Moon fairies?" Harry asked leadingly, grateful for any conversation that didn't revolve around his own summer.

She nodded. "Yes. They're quite lovely, but when there's too many of them their singing gets too loud and it disturbs the neighbors."

"I've never heard of moon fairies," Hermione said with a frown. "What book are they in?"

"You don't find them in books, you find them in gardens."

Hermione's frown deepened, and the girl lowered her magazine just far enough that her two slightly oversized gray eyes peeked over the top.

"Anyway," she continued, "it was quite heartbreaking to evict them, but it had to be done." Without missing a beat, she turned her head towards Harry. "I'm sure your summer was worse though, Harry. I was sorry to hear about what happened to your uncle."

The rest of them cringed at the girl's abrupt change of topic, but she kept talking.

"For the record, I don't believe what people are saying about you having killed him, or Cedric for that matter. You look too tortured to be a murderous psychopath; I imagine a real one would be a lot more composed and affable than you."

"Um, thanks?" Harry said, unsure of what else to say.

The girl shrugged and turned back to her magazine, leaving the friends to blink bewilderedly at each other.

A short while later the carriage arrived at their destination and they disembarked. The strange girl said a quick goodbye to the four Gryffindors and scurried off somewhere.

Ron turned to the group with a bewildered look on his face. "So, does anyone know who that was?"

"Her name's Luna Lovegood," Hermione replied with a sigh. "Though most people call her 'Loony'."

Ron chuffed. "I wonder why."

Harry was given a wide berth as he settled into his normal spot towards the center of the Gryffindor table. Apart from Neville and the rest of the Weasleys, everyone crowded towards the extremities of the bench, avoiding him with unmasked concern.

Harry slumped his shoulders in disappointment, though he wasn't particularly surprised.

"I thought Gryffindor was supposed to be the house of the brave," he muttered.

Neville gave him a sheepish shrug. "Me and Gran don't believe a word the Daily Prophet prints, but we're the minority in that regard. Most people take their stories as fact, and they haven't been kind to you or Dumbledore this summer. It's only gotten worse since…well, you know."

Harry sighed. He would always love the magical world, but sometimes he really questioned how he felt about the people within it.

Once everyone was seated, Dumbledore took to the podium at the front of the hall. The room quieted in anticipation of his speech, and Harry could see the expectant first years waiting to be sorted by the back wall.

"Good evening," the headmaster started warmly, his voice amplified to be heard clearly by everyone. "To our new students, may I extend my most heartfelt greetings. To those returning, welcome home. While I'm sure you're all anxious to get on with the sorting ceremony - and the feast - we have a few matters of housekeeping to address first. For starters, I am sure that many of you have noticed the absence of Professor Hagrid tonight – he is on a brief personal retreat, but will return before the year's end."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances as Dumbledore continued to speak. They didn't know everything the Order of the Phoenix was getting up to, but they knew the basics, and had been informed that Hagrid was sent to parlay with the mountain giants. Dumbledore was hoping the giants would side with them in the forecasted war against Voldemort, and wanted especially to avoid the possibility of them siding with Voldemort instead.

"Subsequently," the headmaster continued, after getting through the requisite warnings about the Forbidden Forest, "I'd like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher – Dolores Jane Umbridge!"

There were scattered claps as a woman clad entirely in pink rose from her seat with a smile and a nod of her head. Dumbledore moved to carry on with his speech, but she cleared her throat, cutting him off. There were whispers of confusion around the hall as she walked serenely to stand in front of the headmaster's lectern, though they quieted down as the woman cleared her throat once more.

"Good evening students," she began in an overly sweet, feminine tone. "And may I echo the headmaster's sentiments in wishing you all a good start to the academic year. I consider it one of my life's greatest privileges to be working at a hallowed institution such as Hogwarts, and to take up the noble gauntlet of ensuring the next generation is taught correctly. You see, it is my belief that our society's youth holds the key to the future. If they are nurtured with care and caution, the buds of today will blossom into the flowers of tomorrow."

Between her extravagant monologue and the high-pitched, squeaky voice she was delivering it with, Harry thought Umbridge's speech was bordering on comedic. He glanced over at the Weasley twins, who were struggling desperately to contain their laughter, and realized he wasn't the only one feeling that way.

"However, a school cannot subsist on reputation alone," she continued, her voice growing harder. "We must be vigilant to ensure proper teaching practices are always upheld, and the next generation's education doesn't fall to the wayside. Improper methods must be terminated, and as with flowers, we must ensure the dead and diseased are removed before they can poison the rest of the bunch."

Umbridge found Harry's eyes and held his gaze as she said that last sentence, and despite the ridiculous metaphor, he felt a chill run down his spine. He had a sneaking suspicion that he was the flower she was talking about.

A moment later the woman smiled and left the headmaster alone once more at the front of the hall.

"Thank you for that...enlightening speech, Professor Umbridge," Dumbledore said slowly, watching her as she returned to her seat at the staff table. He remained outwardly composed, but Harry thought he saw some resentment buried deep behind those half-moon spectacles.

"Now, provided there aren't any further interruptions," he continued, "we have one last matter to attend to before the first years' sorting can begin. This year, Hogwarts will be welcoming a transfer student from Beauxbatons, who upon spending some time at the school during last year's Triwizard Tournament, decided she wished to continue her education here with us. I humbly request that we all do our best to make her feel welcomed here at Hogwarts, and that message goes doubly for those students in the fifth year whom she will be joining."

Harry felt his heart drop out of his chest. It couldn't be, right?

Apparently it could, as a few moments later a side door opened, and Gabrielle Delacour walked gracefully to the front of the hall. Her appearance, along with Dumbledore's introduction, was met with fervent discussion, applause, and even a few hoots from the assembly of students, but Harry couldn't hear any of it.

All he could do was wonder how badly he had underestimated her insanity.

Gabrielle scanned the crowd for a set of lovely green eyes and found them nearly instantly. She gave Harry a smirk and a wink, hoping that he'd find it kind of cute and maybe even a little bit sexy.

A woman in a tall pointy hat beckoned her over to sit on a stool where another blunter and stouter hat awaited, and she headed towards it dutifully. She had done her research before transferring, and knew it to be the 'Sorting Hat', an ancient and powerful magical artifact that organized Hogwarts' students into houses at the start of their first year.

She sat primly down on the stool, blinked demurely at Harry, and prayed the hat didn't mess up her hair as the woman placed it on her head.

She started chanting silently and immediately the moment she felt contact.

Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor-

A voice in her head let out a chuckle. She didn't recognize this one, so she rightly assumed it was coming from the magical artifact.

"Interesting," it said, audible only to her own ears. "How very interesting… It's been many years since I last had the opportunity to peek into a mind as unique as yours…"

Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor-

"You have a unilateral focus and boundless ambition," it continued. "You would do well in Slytherin…"

GRYFFINDOR, GRYFFINDOR, GRYFFINDOR, Gabrielle proceeded, her mental chant becoming more of a fervent yell.

She passively wondered how easy it would be to destroy the Sorting Hat should it separate her from Harry.

"And yet, your mind seems to have already been made up. Your bravery and determination is peerless, and perhaps even Godric himself would have been stunned by your loyalty. I'll expect extraordinary things from you, in-"

"-Gryffindor!" the hat yelled.

She resisted the urge to shout in triumph, instead rising carefully from the stool as the woman removed the Sorting Hat from her head. She noticed Harry's horrified expression from her new house's table, but she knew he was just playing hard to get. She was at his school now, and would be sharing classes and a common room with him as well, so it was only a matter of time before he came to like her.

There was a cacophony of cheers from the Gryffindors as she descended the stairs and headed towards their table, and she passively noted a fair few cries of disappointment from the other houses' students; particularly the males.

Teenagers are teenagers no matter where you go, she observed silently, ignoring the lecherous stares of her peers. They're all disgusting. Well, except for one…

She made her way over to where Harry sat, paying no attention to the friendly beckons of her new housemates. Gryffindor was supposed to be the house of lions, but Gabrielle felt she wouldn't find a bigger flock of sheep on a farm. They cowered at the extremities of the bench, avoiding her beloved Harry, as if it was him that they should be afraid of.

Nope, he's the one that wants to save you, she thought amusedly. It's probably me that you should be afraid of!

She dismissed that funny notion as she arrived in front of Harry; now was the time to act. She looked down at him with the most unassuming face she could muster and spoke in a delicate tone.

"Do you mind if I sit next to you?"

Harry was unable to do anything but watch as the girl who murdered his uncle approached him.

"Do you mind if I sit next to you?" she asked.

Harry didn't answer, stunned as he was into silence.

To be sure, he wasn't afraid of her. Not really, anyway. He was reasonably certain the girl didn't want to harm him, and now that he was inside of Hogwarts with his wand - and not lying battered and unarmed on his living room floor - he was confident he could defend himself against her if she tried. But Gabrielle was still unpredictable, and her appearance at Hogwarts wasn't something he had even considered.

"Of course you can," Hermione interjected, giving the quiet Harry a strange look. "And it's a pleasure to meet you again, Gabrielle."

"Riiight," the girl said in a drawn out way, narrowing her eyes in recognition. "We met before the second task, didn't we?"

"Very briefly," Hermione replied. "At the pre-information session. Though I must confess that at the time, I knew nothing about Veela and treated you like a child; I felt quite bad about that when I did some research later."

Gabrielle smiled as she took a seat next to Harry, bumping into him slightly with her leg.

"Water under the bridge," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "I effectively was a child back then anyway, and it makes me happy to know you took the initiative to do some research about my heritage."

Ron, who until now had been unabashedly staring at the incredibly pretty girl, finally found his words.

"Hold on a minute," he said, not quite keeping up with the conversation around him. "I remember you – you're Fleur's sister! Weren't you a kid?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "She wasn't a kid, Ronald, she's a Veela. They grow rather late, to give their young a chance to learn and develop their minds before they mature physically. It's for their own safety, since they tend to become so…beautiful."

She blushed at that last part, glancing embarrassedly at Gabrielle.

Ron opened his mouth, presumably to say something scintillatingly witty, but he was drowned out by cheers from around them as the next student in line got sorted at the front of the hall. Apparently deciding to pick up the conversation at a later date, both Ron and Hermione returned their attention to the ceremony.

Harry finally acknowledged Gabrielle's presence then, nudging her and using the distraction of the hall to speak to her without risk of being overheard.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he whispered furiously.

"What do you mean?" she whispered back, smiling innocently. "I got sorted into Gryffindor, didn't I?"

Harry looked up to make sure his friends weren't paying attention before replying. "You said you were going back to France!"

"And I did go back to France. I arrived at Hogwarts this afternoon, shortly before the train did."

Harry clenched his fists in anger, upset primarily at himself for being so naive as to think he wouldn't have to deal with Gabrielle again until he was ready.

"And why did you come here in the first place?" he asked, glaring daggers at her.

She batted long, dark eyelashes at him. "Why do you think?"

Before he could reply, Hermione turned back around. "Did you say something, Harry?"

Frustrated but still unsure what to do, he shook his head at her. Gabrielle tried to casually hold one of his hands under the table but he swatted her away.

Hermione gave the two of them a thoughtful look before shrugging it off and returning her gaze to the front of the hall.

"I suppose we'll have to catch up later," Gabrielle whispered.

"Don't get comfortable," he bit out in reply. "You'll be sent back to France as soon as I tell Dumbledore what you did."

She raised one perfect eyebrow. "You're telling me that after passing up over a month's worth of opportunities, you're going to tell him now?"

"I could, you know."

She giggled. "I know you could."

Harry's reply died on his lips as Hermione turned around again, and they maintained their silence throughout the rest of the sorting.

When the ceremony was over his friends resumed their conversation with Gabrielle, and Harry kept quiet as the girl gave polite and personable answers to all of their questions. She managed to ingratiate herself into his friend group alarmingly quickly, and by the time the feast ended, it was a very concerned Harry that returned to the Gryffindor common room.

"Um, Harry?" Ron started as they got ready for bed that night. "Do you have a problem with Gabrielle?"

Harry hesitated for a moment before replying. "Not especially…"

The two were speaking in hushed tones, not wanting to disturb the roommates that already hated Harry's guts, and Ron's by association.

"Then why were you ignoring her at dinner tonight?" Ron asked. "I mean, you barely spoke, and seemed to be intentionally avoiding her eyes."

Harry made a mental note to deal with Gabrielle quickly; if even Ron was noticing his strange behavior around her, he was seriously screwed.

"It's not a big deal," Harry replied, trying to come up with an excuse. "It's just, I guess our shared history makes it a bit awkward…"

Technically, he wasn't even lying.

"That makes sense," Ron nodded. "But she seems like a really nice girl, and I think we're going to need to take all of the allies we can get this year. I'm not saying you need to be her friend, but maybe at least give her a chance?"

"You're right, Ron," he said, effectively putting an end to the conversation. "But I'm going to head to bed now, alright?"

"Alright, mate."

As Harry turned out the light on the table beside his bed, he resolved to tell both Dumbledore and his friends about Gabrielle at the earliest opportunity. He knew his chances of getting them to believe his story were better if he told them sooner rather than later.

Then he thought about the way they were all laughing together in the common room after dinner that night, and could only hope that he wasn't already too late.