Harry Potter and Dumbledore's Army

Chapter One: Miriax Wozencraft, American

As what should have been the hottest day of the summer at Privet Drive drew to a close, a relaxed-looking boy sat on the back green of Number 4. Along with several birthday well-wishes, he had an assortment of objects that would raise some eyebrows and some tempers if he was discovered with them. Occupying the back lawn (if it could be called that) in neat, orderly piles were spellbooks, ink, quills and parchment. Harry Potter, almost 16, was taking advantage of the sudden cold front and the sudden absence of his aunt, uncle and cousin to catch up on news, homework and spells on the green grass. That is, until a loud bang disrupted him.

"What the he-!" Harry shouted as he leapt off the Potions book he was sitting on and smashing his glasses. Harry looked around frantically, but it seemed as if nobody was around.

"Is anybody around...? I have my wand out," Harry added, "...like that would do me any good against a flock of Death Eaters," he said in an undertone as he shoved his cracked glasses back on his pale face.

Harry heard a rustling noise behind him, and spun around so fast his newly broken glasses fell off.

"Oh! I am really sorry about that mate! I forgot about the cloak," said a feminine but undoubtedly accented voice from behind him. But just where behind him was the problem. She was either a disembodied spirit or a ditz in an Invisibility Cloak.

"Aach! All this stuff on the ground, it's a bloody lawn not a flippin' library." Tripping over most of Harry's belongings and ruining a few, the still cloaked newcomer spoke again.

"Slante, my name's Miriax Wozencraft. Call me Zara. You're Harry Potter, right? Well, if you are, then I guess I am in the right place. I am really new to the whole witchcraft game. Would you know how I could possibly contact Sir Dumbledore? I have my admissions and resume ready."

Harry still held is wand at ready, even more puzzled than before. The person did not even remove her? it's? cloak. "Umm, wait," he stuttered, "...who exactly did you say you were? And- why are you here anyways? And why are you wearing an Invisibility Cloak? Do you- "

"Fine..." With some mumbling, the cloak was pulled off to reveal a slightly annoyed brunette.

"You know, I really am not considering killing you, or even mortally wounding you, so kindly stop looking at me like I am Old Voldey himself? Deal?"

Harry stared dumbfounded at the tan, thin (but strangely attractive) girl in front of him. There were a few too many thoughts going through his head at the moment that he forgot she was standing right in front of him and waiting for a reply.

"Uhh, sure, deal... right, then, why do you need to reach Dumbledo-"

"Here, let me have your glasses... Accio glasses... and occlus reparo. There, a bit better is it?" With a flick of her wand, Zara caused the glasses to float lazily onto his bewildered face. Harry was still confused about the entire matter, the girl, the magic that was not allowed...

"Yeah, thanks," said Harry, "my friend Hermione Granger normally does that. I always forget the spell." The underage magic. "Wait! Why are you doing magic anyways? I mean, isn't it illegal to do if you are underage? I know the Ministry always punishes me..."

"Ministry? Uhh, okay. But, anyways, the trick to avoiding those pesky AdMag letters, you need to bubble yourself against the outside. I just incanted the normal spell, but I modified the end to include the backyard, but at any rate the AdMag will never know. Didn't you learn this at some point in your wizarding career? Honestly, it's a simple cross of a Unplottable Charm and the Bubble-Head Charm."

Harry was completely dumb-founded by this girl. Attracted to her, even. She just had some kind of charm to her that caused her to appear lovely, charismatic and intelligent all at the same time. Even though the words coming out of those pretty lips were not registering properly in his brain. And she also had the unique ability to make sure the words he wanted to say never started to form a proper sentence.

"Well, er, why are you going to Hogwarts? Don't they have schools where you, uhh, reside? And repeat what you just said in English please." At this point, Harry could care less if she was a freaking American. All he wanted to do was to look for hours on end into her lovely eyes. They were wide, and light green mixed with gold, with long brown lashes that moved constantly.

"Yes, silly. Of course there are schools in America. We are not as uncivilized as many Britons believe."

"Then why don't you go there? Why travel all the way to the Isles?"

"I- I - I, uhh, I don't know. I have never attended regular school before. I always studied things at home. Like history, algebra, physics, chemistry, and law. Why? Doesn't Hogwarts have that stuff too? All schools have teach those things," said Zara nervously.

Now Harry was really confused. But confusion turned to panic when he heard Vernon Dursley's newest company car roar into the drive.

"Shit," he whispered, "I need to get all of this upstairs, shit, shit!"

"God! Don't panic, this is an easy fix. Stop swearing and use your magic!"

"What should I do then genius?" Harry spat out.

"Just go up to your room eh?" Zara hissed.

Even though Harry was feeling rebellious that night, he decided to follow the strange American's orders. He threw open the patio doors and nearly toppled over the kitchen table. As he sprinted up the narrow staircase, his thoughts were still erratic, but mainly stayed to the subject of Zara. After tripping up on the runner in the hall, he fell into his room and by change looked out the window. He did not believe what he saw.

Time, it appeared, had decided to stop. And Zara, it seemed, wanted to play with the Dursley SUV. In the middle of it's acrobatic notions, Harry snapped to his senses and screamed.

"ZARA! YOU PSYCHO! WHAT THE 'ELL ARE Y'DOING TO THE CAR?" Harry screamed. He was almost sure that he had woken up all of Little and Greater Whinging- or even all of Surrey.

Zara faded out and then disappeared. Harry started to panic before remembering her words to him.

God! Don't panic, this is an easy fix. Stop swearing and use your magic!

"Stop freaking out, use magic," Harry stammered, "sounds easy, I guess..." as he pulled out his wand. But for Harry it was as hard as inviting the Malfoy family over for Christmas tea. Which means it was near impossible.

To Zara's credit, all of Harry's fretting was for naught, as she sailed through the open window into the cozy and slightly cramped upstairs room as if she sprouted wings. To Harry's surprise, the wings were not there. Maybe if she was not human, but heavenly or something, that would explain everything. Almost everything, that is.

"Z-Zara, where is the car?" Harry stuttered. Foremost on his mind was the missing SUV. And all the things the Dursleys would do to him if they suspected any "funny business". Harry had, for the most part, the run of the house this summer, and was not looking forward to wrecking it. If they knew that there was another person, who happened to be a magically-inclined as well as a girl sitting on my bed...

Zara lounged on his bed, her chin in her hands, not really trying to look sexy but somehow pulling it off expertly. Her chin-length brown-red hair was tousled, somewhat resembling Harry's. Harry took a closer look. She was wearing an odd assortment of Muggle and wizarding dress. Her baggy black and red t-shirt read "Warped Tour 2003" and her light blue jeans had holes the size of baseballs at the knee. Just passing the heel of her dragon-hide boots was a dark blue robe with little crystals at the hems. Her many necklaces glinted off the candlelight. Her right hand had two rings. One was a simple silver band with words engraved on it. The second was a crowned heart, held by two hands- the cladagh symbol of Ireland.

"Eh, Harry don't worry about it! I just froze them in time. Blended the Impedimenta Curse with the Freezia Charm and sealed the garage against the passage of time. They are all in that monstrous American made car, about to take off their safety belts. Now, what else do you need to know?" Zara said this all on one breath.

Harry was completely blown away by Zara. He never remembered being reluctant to have a conversation with a girl before- as long as it did not involve a dance. But he found the courage and the confidence to start over.

"So, how about we do a trade off. I ask a question, and then you answer and then you ask. Is that okay with you?" said Harry.

It better be, he thought. There are so many questions that I need answering it would take all night to have them answered. Not that I would mind.

Zara pondered this for a split second then decided to turn down his proposal.

Remember what Mum said: "Tell Harry everything he wants to know. He will come in a lot of help later." Well, thanks a lot, eh Mum? For my 16^th birthday, I am stuck in a room the size of a bathroom stall listening to a pale, messy-haired boy ramble on about nothing important while you get to be back in Washington helping with the campaign AND helping sick people. 10 bucks they don't have the Starz SuperPack here either... damn the British.

Zara got up of the bed and started to wander around the room, completely forgetting to reply to Harry's request. There was a poster of the Chudley Cannons, a small British Quidditch team, spellbooks piled high around a small wooden table and stray pieces of parchment littering the floor. An empty owl cage rested on the ledge of an open window. The wind felt so nice and the clear black night was so beautiful...

Harry looked at Zara's face, waiting for an answer. Her eyes were fixed on a spot outside, somewhere in the sky.

"Y'know," she said softly "that's the constellation Sirius, right up there..." Zara pointed up to the sky.

"Sirius?" said Harry. "Yeah, I know where that is. I think, now at least, that my godfather is up there in those stars."

"He died?" ventured Zara.

Oh, how sad. It seems like it wasn't long ago.

"Yeah. A few months ago. It was all my fault..."

"Oh."

Miriax did not think it was a good idea to say any more on the topic. For all she knew, her dad was up in that same constellation, watching over her...

Yeah, right thought Miriax bitterly. That flyboy who knocked up my mum and promised to come back and bring her to England, care for me, his bastard child? Then, after visiting sporadically, he goes and gets himself arrested for mass murder? For all I know he is rotting away in some prison...

Harry started to sink back into his grief about Sirius and everything that happened in the Department of Mysteries. The nightmares had been starting to go away. But the images of Sirius being tortured and falling- even though some were fiction- would never stop tormenting him.

"Harry, never mind. How about I tell you everything- later," Zara's voice jolted Harry out of his sadness and back to the present. "First of all, I need to get this letter to Sir Dumbledore. What's his address?"

"Why? Just tell your owl to give this to Dumbledore, she'll find him okay." said a confused Harry. Doesn't she know about Owl Post? Maybe wizards communicate differently in America.

"Owls...?" Zara said nervously.