Harry Potter and the New Transfers

Ch 1: New Beginnings

In the sleepy town of Yorkville, in the American state of New York, there was a hill. A large grassy hill, upon which was perched a humongous wooden structure. A well-weathered sign reading "Willowfletcher's School for Underprivileged Witches and Wizards" was hung above the massive front doors. The school, containing one-hundred-and-fifty rooms, had two small, square windows about every two yards, peeking into the crowded classrooms and dormitories.

Inside the halls, seven hundred students, in their first through seventh years at Willowfletcher's, raced to get to their next classes. A few stragglers dashed to their wooden hall-cupboards, to grab a forgotten supply or two, a slim, dark-haired girl in 4^th year among them. She pulled out a silver tackle-box-type case, and zoomed down the corridor.

Breathless, she swept into the Potions classroom. She sat down at an open space at a table, and clicked open the twin locks on the front of the case. As the lid opened, Mrs. Carver gave her a withering look.

"I trust you'll be on time tomorrow, Ms. Modello?" The girl nodded solemnly, trying to conceal a laugh. A few titters and giggles were condescendingly hushed by Mrs. Carver, who was in the process of scribbling the ingredients needed for a Boil-Cure Potion on the blackboard. As she wrote, the tardy girl flipped open various small compartments in the box, pulling out pinches of herbs and plants. She took a sheet of paper from a pocket in the lid, and set the items on it.

The Potions class went quickly, and soon, a note clutched in her thin hand, she was walking at a quick pace toward the principal's office. She paused outside the office, took a steadying breath, and opened the door. She stepped inside, and shut the door behind her quietly.

"You wanted to see me, Mrs. Teague?" she inquired politely, although she was slightly nervous at the purpose of this summons. The gray-haired headmistress stood up, showing the full extent of her imposing 6-foot frame.

"Yes, Ms. Modello," she replied, with a crisp British accent. "Please sit down." The girl promptly plopped down in the easy chair across from the principal's desk. Mrs. Teague sat down behind her desk, and took a steadying breath.

"Ms. Modello, I've summoned you to my office to discuss a very important matter. You see..." For a moment, her voice faltered, as though she was not confident in her next words. Despite this, she tarried no longer. "I believe, as do your teachers, that, well, our teaching material is...er, holding you back, so to speak." A confused expression crossed the student's face.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked with bewilderment.

"Well, it seems that you are advancing in not only the quality of your abilities, but your understanding of them, at a quite faster rate than your classmates."

Still not sure of the point of this discussion, the girl only replied, "So?"

The woman looked at her with a faint smile. "You know we love having you here, Kelsey," she said warmly. "It's just that...well...you need a better program. We can't keep up with you and it is impossible to move you up a year, I-"

Kelsey interrupted her. "Why would it be impossible?"

Mrs. Teague pretended Kelsey had not spoken. "-I've corresponded with the headmaster of another wizarding school, Albus Dumbledore. He has reviewed the situation and agrees with me. I am pleased to give you this." As Mrs. Teague spoke, she handed Kelsey an envelope, and gave her a firm handshake.

Still more than a little puzzled, Kelsey popped off the wax seal, of which she could make neither heads nor tails, tore open the envelope, and pulled out the folded slip of paper it contained. Another, smaller piece of parchment fell out of the envelope. She picked it up, unfolded the larger paper, and began to read.

Dear Ms. Modello,

Your headmistress, Mrs. Teague, has informed me of your special situation. Knowing that your father went to Hogwarts, and admittance as a legacy is plausible, I have reviewed this situation to the furthest possible extent, and, after consulting my staff and giving much thought, I have come to a conclusion. I am happy to inform you of your acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed, you will find a slip printed with the supply list for fifth years. Mrs. Teague has informed me that you are up to par on your courses, so you will be able to join our fifth years right away in their studies. Please purchase the listed materials, and I will see you on September the First!

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"So...you're telling me I get to go to Hogwarts for fifth year?" she asked incredulously. "Where is this place, anyway? I've never even heard of it!"

Mrs. Teague sighed. "I'm not at liberty to discuss its location, but I can tell you it is in the United Kingdom." Kelsey bolted upright.

"I get to go to school abroad?" she shrieked in total disbelief. "My goodness! I-I get to go to Hogwarts!" She bounded over to the office door, flung it open, and shouted to the almost-empty corridor "I'm going to Hogwarts!" Since most of the students had no idea what she was talking about, they were not excited at the news, only gave her strange looks and walked a little faster past the doorway.

* * *

Across the Atlantic Ocean, a fifteen-year-old wizard named Harry Potter woke with a start. For once, his scar was not burning after being woken by a dream.

"An American? At Hogwarts?" he wondered aloud. In the murky light of morning, he fumbled for paper and quill. He jotted a short note to each Hermione and Ron, tied them to the legs of his owl, Hedwig, and sent her off through the open window.

Harry had just climbed back into bed, trying to catch a few more winks before the Dursleys woke him for breakfast, when Aunt Petunia's shrill voice cut through his sleepy fog.

"Out of bed, you little urchin! That wrinkly old headmaster of yours is coming today!" Harry jumped out of bed.

"Coming, Aunt Petunia," he yelled in response. He quickly pulled on a white T-shirt and jeans, and raced downstairs. He had almost forgotten! Professor Dumbledore was going to escort him to his best friend Ron Weasley's house.

He arrived in the kitchen as Uncle Vernon was unfolding the newspaper. "Bacon and eggs today, boy," he barked nastily without so much as a "good morning". He turned his beady, piggy eyes on Harry. "And make it fast. That Dumbledore crackpot is coming today..." At this point he paused, a look of contempt on his face. "To take you to...to the Wheezys', or whatever they're called."

Harry dropped four pieces of bacon on the griddle (his despicable cousin Dudley could have Harry's piece; he was too excited to eat, anyhow), and pulled the egg carton out of the refrigerator. He cracked open the eggs, and, one-by-one, dripped their yellow contents onto a separate griddle.

Aunt Petunia bustled into the kitchen, her bony arm clutching "her Duddy-kins" 'round the waist, with considerable difficulty, bearing in mind his immense width. They both sat down at the table, and Dudley, despite being fifteen years old, began to whine for his breakfast.

"I'm hungry, Mum," he complained to Aunt Petunia, who responded with a "Don't worry Duddy-kins, breakfast is almost done," and a murderous glance at Harry. "Speed it up, Potter!" Dudley yelled. Harry, grasping the griddle's handle tightly, brought it over to the table, and doled out the food.

Suddenly, a doorbell chime resounded throughout the painfully clean house. Harry set the griddle down, rushed to the door, and opened it with a smile. "Good morning, Professor Dumbledore!" he grinned.

"Good morning, Harry, my boy!" Dumbledore returned, his light blue eyes twinkling merrily. He reached up to adjust his spectacles, and Harry started.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Won't you come in?" Dumbledore nodded graciously at this, and stepped inside.

By now, the Dursleys were standing behind Harry, a look of fear upon Aunt Petunia's face, which was mirrored on Dudley's (the last time a wizard had entered their home, Dudley had ended up with a four-foot slimy tongue lolling out of his mouth).

Dumbledore smiled a friendly smile. "And you must be the Dursleys. What a lovely home you have! So sparkling clean!" In spite of herself, Aunt Petunia's grimace wavered slightly when she heard this.

"So...where are your things, Harry? We really should be getting a move on," Dumbledore commented. "This way, Professor," Harry spoke up, and led him to his room.

Several minutes later, Harry, Professor Dumbledore, and Harry's school things were standing on the front porch. "Well, er, I guess we'll be off, then. Um, g'bye Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, Dudley," Harry gave a little wave, and began to load his things into the Ministry car Dumbledore had taken (Dumbledore had not wanted to draw attention to himself by Apparating).

Harry was just lowering himself into the car's back seat, when he noticed that Dumbledore was still standing on the stoop.

"Are you going to say goodbye to Harry, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly. "Goodbye, then, Harry," Uncle Vernon said stiffly. Murmurs could be heard from Aunt Petunia and Dudley as well.

"Well, goodbye then," Dumbledore threw behind him as he walked toward the Ministry car. He sat down, closed the door, and spoke to the driver. "The Burrow, please."

* * *

When they arrived at the Burrow, all of the Weasleys except Bill and Charlie stood in the yard, grinning and waving. Ron rushed over to open the cab door for Harry. "I got your owl," he whispered. "Come on, let's get your stuff up to my room."

Mrs. Weasley gave Harry an affectionate hug. "Glad to see you looking so well, dear," she said, smiling at him. Ginny, now finished with three of the seven years at Hogwarts, blushed and ducked her head when Harry's eyes fell upon her.

Fred and George, the twins, slapped Harry on the back. "Good to see you, Potter!"

Dumbledore pulled himself out of the cab, and shook Mr. Weasley's hand. "I really appreciate you taking Harry in again, Arthur, Molly. I am much obliged."

They continued to talk, as Harry and Ron, luggage in hand, passed the last part of the welcoming committee, Percy, who tried to coerce Harry into listening to his personal list of perks attained by work at the Ministry.

"Glad to have you with us, Harry!" he said, waving as they entered the house.

They ran upstairs, shut Ron's door, and locked it. "So this dream you had, you're thinking it's true?" Ron asked.

"Well, a lot of my dreams that have featured Vold..." Harry paused when he saw Ron wince. "Oh, sorry, You-Know-Who, well, they've all come true. And this one was so vivid and detailed. I find it hard to believe I just thought it up all by myself."

Ron looked confused. "So, do you think that this...er, what did you say her name was, again?" It took Harry less than a second to remember.

"Kelsey Modello," he answered promptly.

"Yeah. So, do you think this Kelsey Modello character is connected with You-Know-Who?" Ron continued his inquiry.

Harry frowned. "I sure hope not. But, then, maybe my scar would have woken me up, in that case. I don't know."

Ron shook his head. "And she's American! An American at Hogwarts! That is too weird to even think about." They looked at each other, and both said at the same time, "I wonder which house she'll be in?"

As they were pondering, Hedwig swooped in Ron's open window, and dropped a note in Harry's hand. He picked it up, and unfolded it. It read:

Harry,

An American? At Hogwarts?? That is beyond strange. Are you sure? I guess your dreams are always eerily accurate, but still. Oh, well, if it's true, we're in for an interesting year. Hope you're safe and sound at the Burrow. Oh, and send the details of your dream by return owl.

Write soon!

Hermione

"Well," Harry said after reading the letter. "I guess we're all thinking along the same line."

Suddenly, Ron asked, with a sheepish expression, "Er...what did she look like?" Harry grinned.

"Well, I didn't get much of a look at her face, but she had dark, straight hair, and she wasn't tall...about Hermione's height, and she was thin. That's pretty much all. But, hey," Harry's green eyes twinkled. "If I'm correct, we'll see her at Hogwarts in a short while, won't we?"

Ch 2: Getting Settled at the Burrow

Harry spent a month of pure, unconstrained happiness, before he had to begin thinking about shopping for school supplies.

He was just waking up, deliciously late, one morning, when suddenly, a very important thought occurred to him. "Ron!" he shouted, sitting straight up. "Ron! Something's just occurred to me!"

Ron's groggy voice floated over to him. "Wassat?" he asked blearily.

"Kelsey will have to ride the Hogwarts Express! And she'll have to get her supplies and money in Diagon Alley! Gringotts is the only wizarding bank, right?" Harry said excitedly. Ron sat up, shaking his head.

"I dunno, wouldn't that be kind of inconvenient for the Americans? I guess it is, but how do you know if she's not Muggle-born?"

Harry looked at him. "Ron, if we're going to go about this like she exists, then we're going to say that everything in the dream is true, right?" Ron nodded.

"Yeah, go on."

Harry cleared his throat and continued.

"Well, in my dream, she got the letter from Dumbledore. It said, and I quote 'Knowing that your father went to Hogwarts...'. And even if he didn't and that part got a little mixed up, she would still have to exchange the Muggle money for wizard money to buy anything magical, wouldn't she? And if her parents sent her to a wizarding school, then she would have to have had money anyway, right? So, that means, that if Gringotts is indeed the only wizarding bank in the world, then she will go there! And, since she's from America, then she'll probably come closer to the time when school will start. It's not a short trip, crossing the Atlantic, is it? Which means that we may very well meet up with a new American Hogwarts student in Diagon Alley!" Harry finished finally, eyes glinting triumphantly.

Ron stared, wide-eyed, at Harry. "This is quite your little pet puzzle, isn't it?" he asked in amazement.

"Boys! Time for breakfast! Fred, George, Ron, Harry! Get up, get up!" Mrs. Weasley was yelling from the bottom of the stairs. Harry and Ron groaned, and went out into the hallway, where the very drowsy twins were clumping noisily down the stairs.

Fred, George, Harry and Ron all took their seats at the breakfast table, at which Mr. Weasley, Ginny, and Percy already sat. Mrs. Weasley bustled around the kitchen, setting down upon the table platters of steaming eggs, crisp bacon, fluffy pancakes, and a pitcher of sticky-sweet maple syrup.

After Mrs. Weasley had sat down, Percy cleared his throat. "There's some trouble at the Ministry..." he began, with an air of importance about him.

"Yeah," Fred sniggered. "They're having trouble figuring out how to get rid of you!" Percy glared at him, and Harry was reminded at once of how Percy had glared at Harry, Ron, and Hermione so many times during his years as a prefect.

"The problem is with this American school," he explained. "Willowfletcher's. There's some talk about it shipping its best students off to other schools." Harry and Ron looked at each other in astonishment.

"Isn't that the school Kelsey was going to?" Ron whispered. Harry nodded, listening with interest, for once, to Percy's somewhat pompous gossip.

"Cornelius thinks it extremely suspicious, of course. Word of mouth at the office is that one of them is coming to Hogwarts this year. I think it's a fifth-year girl," Percy said knowledgably. (Since Mr. Crouch's murder, Percy had been promoted to personal assistant to the Minister of Magic himself). Harry felt Ron elbow him, rather hard, actually, in the ribs.

"It's true!" he murmured. "We'll have to send an owl to Hermione. Potter, you're a genius!" Then, grinning, Ron said softly, "I wonder if the Minister knows that Percy is on a first-name basis with him!" At this, they both had to hide their mouths in their napkins to suppress their snorts of laughter.

* * *

Harry and Ron washed their dishes and set them in the sink, then raced upstairs to pen an informative letter to Hermione. As Harry wrote it, he asked Ron absently, "D'you think I should send one to Sirius, too?" Ron looked thoughtful for a minute.

"Nah, no reason to." Harry nodded.

"Here, how does this sound?" Harry asked. He handed Ron the message.

Hermione,

Guess what! Percy says that there are some problems with a school called Willowfletcher's (Kelsey's school), and that there is definitely an American fifth-year girl from Willowfletcher's coming to Hogwarts this year! Apparently they're sending out all of their best students to other schools. Percy also said that Fudge is actually quite worried about the matter. On another note, we're going to Diagon Alley on August 20^th. Meet us in the Leaky Cauldron and I'll tell you everything.

Best Wishes,

Harry

"That's fine. Maybe you should add your theory of seeing Kelsey at Diagon Alley," Ron suggested.

"Oh, yeah," Harry acknowledged, and jotted it down. He rolled up the note, opened the door of Hedwig's cage and tied it to her leg. "There you go, girl. Oh, and here," He pulled a bit of toast wrapped in napkin out of his pocket, uncovered it, and held it out to her. "You eat this first, though."

She gratefully munched the marmalade-smeared toast in three bites, nipped Harry's finger tenderly, and flew out of the window.

* * *

Before Harry could say "Longer Holiday, Please", it seemed, August crept up, and flew by. It was already August 13. He would see Hermione (and maybe Kelsey) in a week.

Harry was quite glad to have Percy around now, because he was a wealth of information. "Percy, could you try to find out the girl's name? You know, the American transferring to Hogwarts this year?" Harry asked him one day.

"Sure thing, Harry. I'm sure Cornelius has it written down somewhere." Later that day, Harry's dream was confirmed as reality.

"Her name is Kelsey, Harry. Kelsey Modello. Her family was actually a very prominent family in the wizarding world, but they settled down when she was born; she was actually born in London, and moved to America, so she could grow up without being thrust into the limelight every five minutes. I believe her father went to Hogwarts," Percy informed Harry.

"He did!" Harry said, before he realized his mistake.

"How would you know, Harry?" he asked suspiciously.

"Um...instinct," Harry replied quickly. Percy shrugged, and walked away muttering to himself about "check with Cornelius".

"Wait! Er, Percy? Is it likely for this Kelsey Modello to shop at Diagon Alley? I mean, school starts in a little over a fortnight! She would need to get here shortly before school starts! What do you think?" Harry walked up to him. Percy paused thoughtfully, obviously pleased to have been asked twice for information in one day.

"Well, I believe that would make a lot of sense," Percy concluded. Harry smiled, and went to tell Ron.

"Wow! That's incredible! Your dream was completely accurate! Are you putting me on, Potter? You have to be kidding me!" Ron exclaimed. Harry, despite feeling sort of Slytherin-ish for doing it, couldn't resist smiling smugly.

"I knew I was right!" Ron stopped, and looked at Harry apprehensively.

"Do you have any idea exactly how much like Draco Malfoy you just sounded? Don't do that Harry, it creeps me out." Ron shuddered for emphasis. Harry snorted.

"Sorry, but I couldn't resist. I didn't really expect my dream to be true, at least first off." Ron smiled, somewhat mischievously, in response.

"Maybe we can get you to dream that Snape gets fired!" Harry looked mock-stunned, and said, " Like I would ever do that!" They both burst out laughing.

* * *

On the day of the trip to Diagon Alley, there was a tumultuous scene in the Weasley home. Ginny couldn't find her sack of Knuts and was running around the house crying and looking under anything that wasn't breathing; Percy was too busy yelling at Fred and George for putting green dye in his toothpaste to notice that they'd put it in his shampoo, too; Mrs. Weasley's wand wasn't operating right, and only emitted puffs of smelly smoke when she tried to use it; and Harry and Ron were busily reading and re-reading the supply list from Hogwarts.

Finally, Ginny found her money and began crying with relief; Fred came up behind Percy and quietly changed his hair back to normal, while George apologized for the both of them; Mr. Weasley gave his wife's wand a good smack, which caused it to ignite, singing his eyebrows, but it was once again in working order.

Harry was almost quivering with excitement, but was a little nervous about the method of transportation they'd be using to get to Diagon Alley: Floo powder. Probably his least favorite means of travel, he had once ended up in Knockturn Alley, something like a Diagon Alley of the Dark Arts, when using it.

When everyone was as ready as they would ever be, Mr. Weasley flung a bit into the fireplace, stepped into the brilliant green flames, and shouted "Diagon Alley!" loudly and clearly. Harry stepped up next. Uneasily, he sprinkled a handful in the fire, stepped in, and yelled, pronouncing as best he could, "Diagon Alley!"

After the somewhat unpleasant spinning and whirling feeling of using Floo powder, he landed in Diagon Alley. Relieved, he stepped outside of the hearth, and joined Mr. Weasley. Within minutes, the rest of the Weasley clan, minus Percy, who stayed home to work on his "top-secret Ministry work, very hush-hush", stood in the crowded, winding, shop-lined street that was Diagon Alley.

"Let's go to Gringotts first, and then Harry and me are going to meet up with Hermione at the Leaky Cauldron, okay, Mum?" Ron suggested. Mrs. Weasley nodded.

Inside of the solid marble walls of the wizard bank, Harry looked around at the goblins scuttling to and fro, sometimes pushing handcarts heaped with burlap sacks, presumably filled with money.

Suddenly, he saw someone who looked awfully familiar. There was a girl standing in front of the head goblin's desk, and she was asking for a withdrawal. She was standing next to Hagrid. And Harry knew exactly who she was.

"Ron," he whispered pointing to the petite girl with Hagrid. "That's her."