Daughter of the Dark

Chapter 1

Harry climbed sullenly aboard the Hogwarts Express. For the third year in a row, neither Ron, nor Hermione would be sitting with him. Hermione, as expected, had received her head girl's badge when she was visiting the burrow, and had talked about nothing since. Ron, on the other hand, was going back as a third year prefect. Harry had a nasty feeling that if Ron hadn't been chosen as Head Boy, Malfoy almost certainly had. Still, there was nothing he could do about that. He was still angry at Dumbledore, and the rest of the world for that matter, for the horrible stories he had had to put up with about himself the last year.

Harry sighed, and went looking for Ginny. She and he had become good friends over the summer, though not anything more. She was pretty, he would admit that, and a damn good flier, but he felt nothing for her. In fact, ever since his three month relationship with Susan Bones, a pretty petite Hufflepuff, he hadn't really been interested in anyone. It might have to do with the fact that the Daily Prophet was spreading word about how he was and evil and dark wizard, for trying to clear Sirius's name or maybe that all of the girls that he knew (other than Hermione of course, and sometimes Ginny) were kind of like versions of Cho. All were interested in the same thing...Makeup...Hair....Gossip. And frankly, he didn't want to here it.

Then he remembered...Ginny was a prefect. She hadn't been one in her fifth year, but after what happened to the poor little Anna, she had been the only one who would take the position. Damn. That meant that he'd have to either sit with Neville or Luna. Or not. It wasn't that Harry didn't like them, they were really great people. Luna had even given up on her corkscrew necklace. It was just that, he wasn't really in the mood to listen to Luna's stories.

In fact, he wasn't really in the mood for talking to anyone at the moment. He was exhausted. The Dursleys had worked him to the bone. They knew he wouldn't complain, and Dumbledore hadn't sent anyone to threaten them like he had at the end of fifth year. So he had worked, and at that harder than ever. And when he hadn't been working, he had been reading. Reading everything he could find about spells, curses, defence techniques. Harry had figured that since he would have to meet Voldemort and all, he had better start cracking. In fact, in the last year, he had almost become as bad as Hermione. He had even picked up Arithmancy and Study of Ancient Runes. Now that had been a pain in the ass. After missing three years, it was a wonder that he had even passed the damn midterms. But he had passed them, and he had done well...very well actually, third in both classes, only tailing behind Hermione and Malfoy.

Speaking of Malfoy, he had better not hurt Hermione, or else there would be hell to pay. Harry still couldn't believe that Dumbledore had let Mal-ferret back into the school after the whole thing with Anna, but he had. And now he would probably be living with Hermione. Actually, Malfoy probably wasn't the main problem. What with Hermione being muggleborn and all, he probably wouldn't touch her, or at least not seriously....Zabini, on the other hand, hit on everything that had two legs and a good rack. And whether Harry wanted to deny it or not, Hermione was a rather pretty witch. She had finally found some spell that made her hair look all smooth and shiny. That, added with her pretty face, and (now) small teeth, meant that lots of guys were after her. And he, for one, knew that a certain seventeen year old Weasley was very interested, even though Hermione didn't know it. If Zabini ruined it between her and Ron...well, let's just say Harry had worked on his jinxes over the summer.

Harry sighed, and looked through the compartments. They were practically all full. Full with happy people, and their happy friends. He ducked down to avoid being seen by Neville and Luna, the former who was listening to the latter talk about her theory that Ollivander was hiding a herd of banshees in his store, and promptly swerved into the boys bathroom upon spotting Cho and her horrible friend Marietta walking back to their compartment with a cart full of candy. Once the coast was clear, he sighed, and started walking down the hall, only to bump into the back of a small blond. Shit. Now this was the last person Harry wanted to talk to. Hannah had taken their brake up rather hard (he had dated her two months before moving on to Susan), and had a tendency to start sobbing and pleading for Harry to take her back whenever she saw him. He groaned, and, before she could turn around, yanked the door of the nearest compartment open, muttered collaportus, threw himself flat against the door...

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Zarah Evans woke up with a lurch. She had been sleeping, trying to get over jet leg from the nine hour flight she had taken the day before. And now some random guy had just marched....no, more like dived, into her compartment. Great. Now she was going to be cranky on her first day, as if she wasn't already pissed off enough from another of her long fights with her father. She sighed, and decided to pretend like she was asleep. Maybe the stupid kid would just get out if he found nothing interesting. Damn. He wasn't leaving. In fact, he looked like he was about to lie down and doze off himself. Fine. If the kid was going to be random, it was his business. Who the hell did he think he was, anyways? He had short, messy-black hair, and glasses that obviously needed replacing. He was pretty tall, about 6"1, she guessed, tanned and muscled. Not bad. Not too bad at all.

Then Zarah noticed the lightening shaped scar. He was Harry Potter. Woah. This was the guy her father had told her about. He was all part of the plan. She needed to become friends with him. She sighed, analyzing him. He didn't have any friends around, though according to her information, there should be at least one Weasley around, and a girl named Hermione. And on second notice, he looked, well, exhausted. There were some deep rings around his eyes, and, to be able to fall asleep on a moving train in front of a strange girl in less than three minutes...now that was talent. Either talent or pure exhaustion. Zarah sighed, wondering whether to wake him up. On one hand, that would really help her. On the other hand, that might make him pissed off, or cranky, or something like that. Her father had warned her about Harry's mood swings too.

Zarah sighed, and made up her mind. It would be best to get him while he was here. After all, it was he who hand barged into her compartment. What made him think that she would let him sleep? She grinned suddenly. This might to be funner than she thought. Poor Harry. It almost made her feel sorry for him. Almost being the key word.

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Harry groaned as he felt himself being shaken awake. He was having such a good rest, and really did not feel like waking up from it.

"Go 'way Aunt Petunia. I'll finish the rose bushes in a couple of minutes..."

"I'm afraid I'm not you're Aunt Petunia. Actually, I don't know whether to be insulted or not, being mistaken for an aunt."

A girl, no...a woman, had just spoken. One with a low, sweet voice. Harry groaned and snapped his green eyes open, sitting up. There sitting before him, was a stunning girl. He'd never seen her before, although she was much too old to be a first year. Her long raven hair fell against a good body, framing a bold face and beautiful eyes. Green eyes. Woah.

"Who are you?"

"Depends on where I am in the world. Here though, I'm Zarah...Zarah Hawkins."

"You're not a first year, are you? I've never seen you before. And you've got a strange accent.''

The girl chuckled. "Nope, not a first year. Seventh, actually, same as you I believe. And I have a 'strange' accent because I'm from the United States."

"The U.S.? Then why are you here?...I mean don't they have a school for magic over there?"

Harry swore he saw a flicker of emotion pass before her eyes before she smiled bitterly. "My parents died at Lord Voldemort's hand. Them, and my twin brother. I was out with some friends, and survived. My grandfather lives in London, so I moved over here."

"I'm sorry. I know what it's like."

The girl just shrugged.

"Wait...did you just say Voldemort's name? And how did you know I was a seventh year?"

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. One of the first lessons I was taught from my father....you're age? You're too old to be below sixth year, and you're a quidditch captain according to that badge you're wearing. Lucky guess, I suppose."

"Wow. I'm impressed...I'm Harry Potter by the way."

The girl, or Zarah, raised a delicate eyebrow: "I know".

Harry eyed the girl. There was something about her, something that reminded him of someone. He just couldn't remember who. Was it the way she talked? The way she held herself? No...it was something different, something he couldn't put his finger one....but he like her. And he didn't know why. There was something about her that was mysterious, like she was hiding something. And then there was something else....like there was a sorrow that was always with her. Interesting. He'd have to find out more about this girl.

He sighed. This would be a long train ride without conversation.

" Ummm....so...d'you play quidditch?"

The girl...no, Zarah, smirked softly. "You bet I do. One of the best at my old school. I play seeker, though I'm a pretty damn good chaser too. You?"

"Potter thinks he can be a good seeker, but he usually ends up swallowing the snitch instead of catching it."

Zarah looked up with raised eyebrows, a small smirk forming on her lips. There, in the doorway, stood a tall lean boy with a pointed face and white blond hair, flanked by two...gorillas, for lack of better words. So this was the famous Draco Malfoy. He was also part of the plan. And pretty damn good looking part of it too.

"Draco Malfoy. You want to be careful who you make friends with, you know. Some can be...shall we say, less than appealing."

"Zarah Ev-Hawkins. Zarah Hawkins. I'm sure I can trust your judgement of friends, considering the fine one's you've made yourself." She replied smirking, while really mentally cursing herself for nearly giving away her real name. That was definitively not part of the plan.

"Hawkins? Hawkins, as in the elite pureblood Hawkins family from New York?"

"The one and only"

Harry turned to look at Malfoy, mentally cursing himself for not doing research on rich American purebloods. His face was absolutely priceless.

"A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hawkins, the Malfoy name is honoured to have come into acquaintance with such a family."

Zarah smirked. Maybe this little escapade wouldn't be such a pain in the ass after all. "Well, the Hawkins's pride themselves in associating themselves with only the best. Good day, Mr. Malfoy, Harry. I dare say, I'll be seeing you both again."

Draco watched the black haired beauty swirl out of the compartment with a small frown. A Hawkins....that was impressive. Almost more impressive than a Malfoy. And a beautiful Hawkins at that. He would definitely need to tell Father about that, he would be interested. Very interested indeed. In the mean time, it would be best if he stayed close to the girl, maybe tried to lure her into his Slytherin ways. She was mysterious though, and would be harder to crack than any other girl. He smirked. A challenge. He loved a challenge. But in the meantime, getting out of the compartment where Potter was staring dumbly at the spot where Zarah had just left would probably be better. With that, he smirked at Potter and left, striding down the train in hopes of finding Pansy.