From Russia, With Sarcasm

From Russia, With Sarcasm

Chapter Three: McGonagall in the Top Paddock

"Coral!"

Coral rolled over in her bed, her mouth open in a very undignified position. "Go away..." she mumbled into her pillow.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She didn't want to do this, it would serve the stuck-up girl right if she was late for class. "Coral!" she persisted. She shook the dark-haired girl in bed, and swatted her in the face softly.

Coral's eyes flew open. "Hey!" she protested, struggling to sit up.

"Get up," Hermione snapped. "You'll be late for breakfast." With that, Hermione turned and left the room, her head high.

"You'll be late for breakfast," Coral mimicked as she changed. "Blah, blah, blah... bushy haired know-it-all..." She pulled on the Hogwarts robes, grimacing at the bland colour and taste of them, ran a brush through her hair and walked down to the common room. The fire was nearly gone, the embers had settled into the logs. Coral waved a lazy hand towards it and immediately a new, roaring fire sprung up. She felt the warmth wash over her, and closed her eyes.

* * *

At the Gryffindor breakfast table, Harry frowned. Hermione and Ron were arguing about the new girl, professing their opinions in loud voices, annoying him greatly. What had happened last night had deeply disturbed him, though he didn't want to admit it. No one, not even Dumbledore had been able to cool his scar before. He didn't know a thing about this girl, apart that she came from Russia, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to, either.

"But it's not natural!" Hermione argued loudly. "She's just a girl! And I haven't been able to find anything about her in the library, even none of the teachers will tell me who she is! None!"

"Hermione, you're just jealous that she can do wandless magic and you can't! All our lives, you've been the one that knows everything, now you don't, and you just can't stand it!" Ron retorted, the tips of his ears red.

He was closer to the truth than Hermione wanted to admit, but she didn't let that deter her. "And don't you think it's just a little bit strange --" She fell silent as she noticed Coral making her way towards the table.

"Oh, don't stop talking on account of me," Coral said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She swept her hair back with her hand and sat down. "Pass the toast, please," she asked Ron.

A slight pink tinge appeared in his cheeks, and he gave her the basket of toast. Their hands accidentally brushed, and the tinge grew deeper. "Here you go," he mumbled into his cereal.

Harry looked at her. She looked tired, which no doubt he would be to if he had stayed up all night arguing with Voldemort. Now, that just mystified Harry. If Voldemort wasn't afraid of Coral, then Coral could probably stop him, right? So why did she wait this long to come to Hogwarts? Why was she even here? Why did she let all those innocent people die? Why -- "What?" he asked, breaking into the conversation.

Hermione gave him an exasperated look, the kind you give little puppies when they've chewed furniture. "I said," she enunciated clearly, "we have double Transfiguration in half an hour."

Harry's eyes bugged out. "I- I -- forgot my -- homework!" He exclaimed, which was hard to do with a mouthful of bacon. He ran for the Gryffindor common room, where thankfully it had been left on a small table next to his favourite armchair. He flopped down onto it with his head in his hands. He rubbed his face and leant back into the chair with a small groan. He felt something crinkle beneath him. "What?" he murmured, standing up, only to discover the latest edition of the Daily Prophet underneath him. He gave a small shrug and opened it up to the front page. He did have twenty minutes to transfiguration after all.

Sirius Black Spotted, the front page read. Harry felt all the blood drain out of his face. 'Oh, this can't be good,' he thought.

Sirius Black, known murderer and wanted criminal, has been spotted yesterday near Blackpool. The muggle, who had called the old hotline, was terrified to see Black stealing fruit off her orange trees.

Upon arrival, Black had fled, but not before Ministry officials had found underneath one of the trees, a letter to Harry Potter. Harry Potter, son of his best friends who he betrayed on that fateful Halloween night. Why, you may ask, is Sirius Black writing a letter to Harry Potter? Our well-known criminal psychiatrist, Ima Crimmanil, may have the answer.

"Sirius Black has an obsession with Harry Potter. He is obviously writing these letters out of a state of dementia, believing that this will bring him closer to the boy," she says. "We should triple our security around Harry just to be sure."
Other psychiatrists believe...

Harry dropped the paper, his mouth opening and closing in shock. Thoughts and actions swirled around his head. The press knew he and Sirius kept in touch, the whole wizarding world knew by now. It was what, yesterday's newspaper? He checked the date. Yup, the whole wizarding world knew by now.

He looked at his watch. Ten minutes to Transfiguration. He folded up the paper, and stuffed it in his pocket.

* * *

"Coral." Professor McGonagall tried to look patient, but the twitch above her right eyebrow told Coral better.

Coral leaned back in her chair and inspected her perfect cat that was currently licking its... arm. Yeah, arm. She reached out a hand and began scratching it under its chin. The tabby cat began to purr, stretching its neck upwards. Coral gave a bored glance towards the front of the room where McGonagall was standing with her arms crossed. Her nostrils flared slightly as she asked, "and why don't you have a wand?"

Coral's purple eyes grew a shade darker. "I do not have a wand," she said slowly. "Because I do not want, or need one."

The twitch above Professor McGonagall's right eye grew bigger. "But while you are in Hogwarts, you will use a wand."

Coral stood up. "No."

"No?" This chant was echoed by most of the class who had been watching the growing debate dumbfounded.

"Young lady, while you are at Hogwarts, you will use a wand. I don't know where your 'powers' have come from, or why Professor Dumbledore even wants you here, but I will assure you, in this classroom you are like every other student! You are not special, and you will do -- what -- your -- professor -- tells -- you -- to - do!" McGonagall stood up the front, lips pinched together tightly, arms crossed glaring at this girl.

Coral gripped the desk harder. Her eyes grew darker until they were almost black. She was shaking, just a little bit, and she stared at McGonagall darkly until --

Pop!

"Oops," Coral grimaced. "I really didn't mean to do that." She picked up her bag, strode out of the classroom and headed towards the library, where she could maybe get at least a little peace and quiet.

The Gryffindors looked from the door where Coral had left, to where their teacher had once stood.

* * *

"That one over there, with the black hair."

"She's got weird eyes, don't you think?"

"I heard she made McGonagall disappear the other day."

"Yeah, I know, they found her in the Sahara desert."

"The Sahara desert? That girl shouldn't be in the school, she's dangerous."

The whispers followed Coral all day. She rolled her eyes. 'Sahara desert,' she scoffed in her mind. 'Anyone who's anyone would know it was just the Australian outback.' People began to shy away from her as she passed them, which annoyed Coral greatly. 'What's the big deal?' she thought grumpily. 'Why can't pe -- '

"Hello Coral." A snide voice interrupted her thoughts. 'Damn you Malfoy,' she thought angrily. 'Go away now before I hurt you.'

"What's the matter? Can't get that furry tongue to talk, can you? Or maybe it's just that stupid Russian accent. Since no one round here can understand it, maybe it's fair to say that you can't either." He shared a look with his sidekicks and they began to laugh, almost on cue.

Coral flicked a quick hand behind her, and walked away, a small smile curving round the side of her face.

The laughing stopped immediately. A crowd gathered around Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who, to their greatest astonishment, had seemed to have misplaced their tongues. Literally.

* * *

Malfoy was sitting, scowling at the edge of a hospital bed in the infirmary. After Madam Pomfrey had persuaded Coral to give back his tongue, she had discovered a small cut on the back of his arm, and was getting some salve to put on it.

'I don't need salve,' he thought bitterly. 'What I need is --'

"Weasley? What are you doing here?" Draco's voice rang out in the silent infirmary.

Ginny's fiery red hair had been twisted into a knot at the back of her head, which revealed several large bruises on the sides of her cheeks. "Swimming."

"Don't try to be funny, Weasley," he said, lying back onto the bed with his head underneath his arms.

"What are you doing here anyway?" she asked him quietly.

He mumbled something unintelligible.

"What?"

"That stupid Russian girl took out my tongue, alright?" he said, his face bright red.

Ginny couldn't help it. She laughed.

"Oh, yes, I'm glad to see you think it's so funny. What are you in here for? Get hit with a Bludger? That's what happens when you spend all of your life watching Potter play Quidditch," he said with a smirk.

Ginny stopped laughing abruptly. She turned away from him. "You don't need to be so cruel, alright? What's your problem, anyway? You're rich, you have a nice life, and everyone's in awe of the big bad Draco Malfoy, so why do you act as though you have a stick shoved up your --"

"Ooh, don't tell me the little Weasley's girl is going to swear!" he said, batting his eyelashes. Then his face hardened. "And for your information, you know absolutely nothing about my life, so why don't you keep your big nose out of it?"

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"I thought we were done with the fines, Weasley. Do you need some more lessons on English and grammar? Or is your brain just fried from watching His Majesty all the time?" he said lazily, tracing circles on the paper-thin sheets.

Ginny's cheeks burned. "You are impossible, you know that?" she yelled.

He smirked. "Why thankyou, thankyou very much."

"Arrgh!" she yelled again, walking out of the infirmary and thumping down the stairs as fast as she could go. Her cheeks were burning, he was sure of it. That damn Malfoy, always had to get the last word, didn't he? Just because he was cute -- what? Did she just think he was cute?

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks. "It's the bruises," she said aloud to herself. "They're... messing with my brain, that's all."

* * *

Coral slumped in one of the Gryffindor armchairs. She closed her eyes, and was just about drifting off into the land of the sandman, when --

"Coral?"

Coral groaned inwardly. Can't people just leave her alone? She opened her eyes a crack to see Harry Potter swimming in her line of vision. She forced a smile on her face that, once again, didn't reach her eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I have, some, um... questions." Harry looked at her worriedly.

Closing her eyes again, she mumbled, "shoot."

"Shoot?"

"Ask me! God!" she snapped.

"Oh, yeah, right." He sat down in the chair opposite her.

"Coral," he started. "What are you?"

That opened her eyes fully. "What am I?" she asked incredulously. "Well, I'm fifteen, my name is Coral, I come from Russia... I'm a girl, Dumbledore owes me two pounds fifty... what do you mean, what am I?"

Harry took a deep breath. "What can your powers do?"

"Just about anything and everything."

"Can you travel through time?" he asked nervously.

"You betcha."

Harry paused. "Can you take me?"