That Which does not Kill

Quiana sighed. If I really did run away... imagine what that would do to Grandma. She's the one who wanted me here in the first place. So for her sake, it's probably best if I stayed here. But all these new people are so... damn, I can't think of the word. And besides, there's another Staff Holder here. At least someone will understand what I'm going through.

Draco was lost in that girl--Quiana's--thoughtful expression. She looked less intimidating when she wasn't concentrating.

"...Hey! What the hell was that for, Potter?!" Draco broke his stare and rubbed the side of his shoulder that had been punched. Harry's eyes narrowed as he slipped his retrieved wand back into his pocket.

"I saw you goggling at Quiana. Wasn't Hermione enough?"

Draco glared back at Harry, his longtime nemesis from Gryffindor.

"You've got it all wrong, Potter. It was Her--Granger's--idea to break up in the first place. She fell out of love with me, I guess..." as Draco's voice trailed off, Harry's face softened.

He was always a sucker for a sad story, thought Draco.

"Hermione did what she thought was best, so I guess it really isn't all your fault then, Malfoy."

"That's what I keep telling myself...and you have no idea how many times that has been." Draco picked himself up off the floor and preened his robes. "I'd better get back to the Slytherin car," he added, walking briskly to the door, lest Crabbe or Goyle see him fraternizing with Gryffindors.

"I'll see you when we get to Hogwarts then," muttered Harry.

"Anything you say, Potter." Draco didn't even bother to turn around as he waved back with a casual flip of his pale hand.

By now, Quiana had chosen an aisle seat and had watched their conversation carefully for some time now. They would make good friends...almost. If only Draco... (Was that his name? I was never any good with names.) would learn to put his stupid reputation behind him--maybe then he would get to experience true friendship. Like Celeste and me... her mind snapped instantly back to reality as she remembered something Celeste had said in the past...

<< Flashback >>

"Vertigo... there's something I need to tell you before you leave for Hogwarts..."

Quiana smiled brightly at her best friend. "Don't worry, Leila, I'll listen to anyone at the moment but Headmistress Centaura."

Celeste chuckled and punched her friend lightly on the shoulder.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better? My best friend in the whole world is leaving and I might never get to see her again! I'm expecting sympathy here!"

"I was never very good at that..."

"Oh, Vertigo, what am I going to do without you?"

Quiana faked a thoughtful pose. "I don't rightly know, Leila. What are you going to do without me?"

"You were always the comedian act around here. I don't know how Mike, Lanai, Belle, and I can survive." Celeste laughed and grasped Quiana's hand tightly. "Don't you ever forget us, you understand? Never."

Quiana's heart swelled. These girls were like the family she never had, with the exception of her grandmother. How she hated to leave them...

"How could I, Leila? Oh... I think that's my grandmother's chauffeur...hurry, what was it that you wanted to tell me?"

Celeste ran her fingers through her hair nervously.

"Quiana, there's something I never told you about during our time here at Alastriona."

Quiana's smile faded instantly. Celeste rarely used Quiana's real name unless it was especially important.

"What could you have possibly kept from me all these years?"

Celeste exhaled. "I have a brother who goes to Hogwarts...He and I are the same age."

"Is that all?" Quiana laughed away her pangs of nervousness. "My half-sister went there, it's nothing that important..."

Celeste smiled thinly. "He's only my half-brother though...I haven't spoken to him in years, and I don't even know if he knows I exist."

Outside, a horn beeped consistently, reminding the two of the time constraint.

Quiana hugged her tightly. "I'm sure he knows you, don't worry...by the way, what's his name?"

"Draco..."

<< Flashback to present >>

Could it be? Was he really related to Celeste LaSeule? Quiana shook her head. A tiny voice inside whispered the opposite. They don't look all that alike...Draco and his platinum blonde hair. Celeste had the same color hair I had before I streaked it... but then she remembered his eyes; those soulful, but frozen, slate gray eyes. She had seen them somewhere before, but she wasn't sure on whom...and then it finally hit her. It was Celeste. What the hell, it doesn't matter. I don't know a thing about him, and by the way things look, all he cares about is his goddamn reputation. An angry voice responded. She balled her fists. People who simply cared only about the way they looked deserved to be hated. God, why do I always get so upset about these little things? Damn you, mother! For your abandonment of me and for you instability. Sighing deeply, Quiana undid her fists and was about to doze off in her warm, cushioned seat aboard the Express when suddenly the train lurched forward, starting her journey towards Hogwarts.

~ * ~ *

The hot air trapped inside the train car was eventually released as most of the windows were opened, allowing fresh, cool air to circulate. Quiana felt much better, but still tired. Her energy level was depleted, and so she dozed off to slowly regain it.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched as she slowly closed her stony eyes. Hermione crossed her arms.

"I still don't know why you guys were so attached to her."

Surprised at her obvious jealousy, Harry responded, "Hermione, it was the right thing to do. I would have done the same thing for you had it been you that fainted from heat stroke."

Ron laughed. "Aw, Hermione's just jealous 'cause she saw you and Malfoy ogling Quiana."

Harry flushed. Hermione pouted and glared daggers at Ron.

"I was--I mean, I am-- so not jealous of her...besides, I don't care about attention from hormonal 17-year old guys. You should know that I'm not really into that sort of thing."

Ron snickered. "Sure, all that pouting over Malfoy had nothing to do with you wanting attention from us 'hormonal 17-year old guys'. Whatever you say, Hermione."

"That was different!" Hermione protested. She turned away from Ron and Harry, refusing to speak to both of them as she faced the aisle. I can't believe they actually thought I was jealous. Was I that obvious? God, Hermione, you're so stupid. You can't even hide basic emotions from anybody. Draco probably thought you were some haughty little fool who needed a guy's attention. You're such a fool to think that you were actually in love with Draco Malfoy.

(A couple hours later)

Quiana was in her dream state again... but instead of being accosted by a voice, all was silent. A thin mist provided the floor that she walked upon, but other than the misty path there were no surroundings. A light at the end of the road caused her to stop and take a step back. Squinting through the light, she saw that the light came from a mirror.

"The Mirror of Empress Xi-Chi..." she breathed, leaning closer to the light to get a glimpse into the mirror. A brief reading on ancient Chinese magic had told her a little about Empress Xi-Chi's mirror. It was said to possess the power to view into the near future, but according to the source she read from, the mirror was said to exist only in dreams.

Eager to discover what the future had in store for her, she approached the mirror. But to her dismay, all she could see was herself and her Blade staff. Curious for more, she extended her arm and reached for the mirror. Just as she touched the surface...

The Hogwarts Express came to a sudden halt. Everyone, including Quiana pitched forward in his or her seats. Had it not been for her quick instincts, she would have crushed her face right into the seat in front of her. However, the forces of her hands landing on the back of the seat pushed the other seat forward even more. To her dismay, this seat happened to be occupied by one of the fattest (not to mention smelliest) witches alive, Pansy Parkinson.

"What does it take to get a decent stop around here?" Pansy whined. She gingerly pushed her 2-ton body up out of her seat to face the person who pushed the back of her seat. Her eyes landed on Quiana, whom, by now, was ready to run out of the car as quickly as she could. "Skinny little whore, next time keep your dirty hands off of my seat."

"Whatever you say, Fatty." Quiana said as she pushed past Pansy and darted out of the car.

Quiana let out a small gasp as she was surrounded by hundreds of First through Fifth years hurrying to catch a boat to the castle. Not exactly sure of where she was going, she decided to follow some of them to the docks.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all yawned as they walked off the train and headed to the docks. The ride to Hogwarts had been especially long, and nobody was sure why. But it just felt that way this time. The flood of younger students was intense. Harry never remembered it being so crowded. But then again, it had been a whole summer. It was possible that he had forgotten about how the docks were at this time of year.

Noticing a lonely figure with long, dark hair at the edge of the dock, Harry nudged Ron.

"There's Quiana. She probably doesn't know how to get to the main castle, so I figure she can catch a ride with us."

Ron made an attempt to cover his half-smile. "Okay, Harry. Not like I care or anything."

Harry glanced at Hermione, who was still trying her best to ignore him.

"Quiana!" At the sound of her name being called, Quiana snapped around to face the caller. She realized it was Harry, the darker haired boy she saw on the train.

"Think you could use a ride?" Harry asked, indicating an empty boat. "We can fit another person."

Quiana smiled politely. "I'll take you up on that offer..." And stepped in.

With a thump, the boat stopped against the shore. Cautiously planting both feet on the ground, Quiana found herself staring up at the dark castle looming before her. You'd never think that Hogwarts would be this intimidating. Imagine all the First years getting their first glimpse of their new school... she smiled at the thought. She remembered her first day at Alastriona, thinking it was an average Catholic all-girls school where she wouldn't have any friends...look how that turned out, she thought. She wandered about the winding path leading around the eastern side of the castle. Coming across a courtyard of some sort, she found herself pausing to inspect all the different species of native plants that inhabited the area. Stroking the more fragrant blossoms, she wondered how Hogwarts was able to grow such a variety of plants in one area, without them competing for growth environment or water. I wonder what time I was supposed to be at the Great Hall to receive my Sorting... Feeling the blood drain from her face, Quiana removed the acceptance letter from her messenger bag. Meet at the Great Hall for your special Sorting at 6:45 PM... she checked her wristwatch. 6:40, it read.

"Oh, shit..." she cursed. Her boots crunched the small pebbles of the path leading to the largest building she could find. "God, I hope I picked the right door..." she whispered through gritted teeth as she pulled open the heavy doors bearing the Hogwarts crest--a lion, eagle, snake, and badger. Interesting, she thought, eyeing the snake with suspicion.

As she pulled open the door, she was regarded with thousands of heads and pairs of eyes. Most were gawking at the rude entrance. The aisles among the 4 tables were kept perfectly clear, and as a result, Quiana could see the towering figure of Professor McGonagall, standing next to a tall, wooden stool with a small, frayed hat sitting listlessly on top.

"You are Miss Llewellyn, I presume..." Professor McGonagall peered at Quiana over her glasses, then looked down at her pocket watch. "You're a bit late, I'm afraid, but nevertheless, the show must go on. Your classmates are eager to be getting to their classes. As for your class schedule, come and see me after the ceremony. Have I made myself clear?"

Quiana regarded the professor with mutual respect. "Yes, professor." She answered hastily.

Meanwhile, in the audience, Harry studied her form. Most new students usually cringed at the first sight of McGonagall. She had that sort of effect upon students. Strangely, Quiana didn't move a muscle. She didn't even flinch when McGonagall had pointed out her tardiness. It takes one to know one... he thought. But now that I think about it, she really does look like Cho...from a distance. Cho...what a memory. How could I have really 'loved' her? And moreover, how could she just leave me in the dust like that... I loved her so much. I would have done anything to make her stay; anything to not make her go... A familiar pain crept up Harry's heart. After all this time, Cho could still wrench out his heart and rip it to pieces. The memory of her departure was as fresh as a new coat of Muggle paint...

<< Flashback >>

(Harry grabs Cho by the arm.)

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

Cho tried to shake free of Harry's tight grip. "I don't have to tell you anything..."

Although stung by her sudden harshness, Harry persisted. "Cho, please don't leave...I... love you. Please, don't leave."

Finally, Cho jerked free of Harry. She sighed, her face betraying her feelings of apparent guilt.

"Listen, Harry, I don't have a choice. My father needs me in Shanghai. He can no longer afford to send me to a magic boarding school in England. It's too far away, Harry. I didn't want to tell you because..." she paused as if to think of a reasonable excuse. "I thought it would be best to cut things off silently. Oh, honestly, Harry, you know how I feel about you, you do." Cho's voice was beginning to take on an edgy tone, like she didn't want to be there any longer.

"But Cho...I thought..." Harry could barely choke out the words as he gazed longingly at her already moving figure.

"Good bye, Harry."

<< Flash back to present >>

Harry was welcomed back to reality by a sharp elbow to his ribs.

"What's the new girl's name again?" Ron asked, squinting hard. "She looks like Cho."

Harry faced him with an icy stare. Ron instantly realized his mistake.

"Oh. Well, um... she looks pretty. From here."

Harry looked down and studied his feet. "She is up close too, had you been noticing on the boat."

Ron gaped. Hermione, who had strategically placed herself in between the two, sighed with exasperation.

"Honestly, you guys and your raging hormones."

She frowned as Quiana approached the Sorting Hat. That little bitch is like the modern day Muggle Barbie doll. She has everything. Within a few hours of arriving, she's managed to capture three guys' attention and turned me away. Me! The person who tried to become her friend! The person who actually introduced her to Harry and Ron! All I can look forward to is that she won't be in my House. She'll probably be stuck in Hufflepuff or something. Hermione couldn't help but smile. Picture this, Cho's bastard born half-sister, the irresistible Quiana, in the House of Hufflepuff!

~ * ~ *

Climbing up on the stool, Quiana could see almost every table. Most students were now staring instead of gawking. Some extra talkative ones were whispering among themselves, pointing at her and making it obvious that they were talking about her. Professor McGonagall presented her with the battered, old, Sorting Hat. Quiana slipped it on over her head and found that it wasn't so small after all.

Immediately, the cheerful, soothing voice of the Hat began whispering into her ear.

"Ah, a natural born leader. Not afraid to do anything, are you? I see... oh yes, great, great courage. Ambition and rebellion thrown in for good measure..." the Hat chuckled. "Slytherin does not suit your persona, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are a bit extreme...then you might as well be... Gryffindor!" the Hat shouted gleefully.

Harry wondered if he had heard the Hat correctly. Hermione nearly fell out of her seat. At the Slytherin table, Draco wondered if he could survive another Gryffindor infatuation. It was bad enough with Hermione, and now this? He slapped his forehead. This is going to be a hell of a year.

~ * ~ *

"And here is your schedule," Professor McGonagall smiled. "The Gryffindor Dormitory is right behind the Great Hall. You will see a portrait of a fat lady wearing a pink dress. She will ask you for a password, which is cichild, by the way. The classes are labeled, so you should have no trouble finding them. If you do happen to get lost, ask any other seventh year and they will be able to tell you. I'm assuming you have all of your materials..." McGonagall trailed off and fixed Quiana with her thousand-yard stare. Quiana swallowed.

"Yes, Professor."

"Good, good. Well. You'd better get going to your first class, I'm afraid I've already set you somewhat behind. I don't think you are that late, but you had better hurry." The professor subsequently busied herself with new applications from incoming students.

Quiana's face twitched into some form of 'smile'. Exiting the office, she glanced at the white scroll upon which her schedule was written in a fine print. Her first class was... Charms. Steadying her messenger bag, she fairly ran to the room labeled Charms--Prof. Flitwick. What kind of a name was 'Flitwick'? Never you mind his name, he still controls your grade! She thought as she entered the classroom. What kind of a freak had such a fruity name? Oh...well.

There was a slight creaking sound as she opened the freshly painted door and peered inside the class. Instantly, 50 heads turned to stare curiously at her.

Shit. The first class of the year and I'm stuck with Slytherins.

A short but friendly looking wizard glanced at her from his position behind the large, official looking podium. "And who might you be?"

"Quiana Llewellyn." She answered lazily. The room was plain except for the various charts at the back of the class regarding the students' current grades.

"Ah. I see." Professor Flitwick shuffled through his class roster. "Miss Quiana, please take a seat in the 3rd row, 5th from the back."

The other Gryffindor students exchanged confused glances. She didn't belong on the other side.

Blinking indifferently, she walked with deliberate, stealthy steps toward the back, where most of the Slytherin students were situated. As she approached her pre-scrawled desk, she could her whispers coming from the hideous girls surrounding the area. Quiana's conscience instantly registered distaste. She never had patience for ignorance. It disgusted her quite completely.

"Hey, baby, you busy tonight?" Rider Hull, also a Slytherin seventh year, hissed in an attempt to be alluring--except for the fact that his voice came out as a series of husky, semi-low coughs.

The Slytherin boys snickered. Rider was widely known as the school flirt, besides Draco, although Draco rarely wasted his time on any and every girl. He was picky about his partners. Only the best would do for him. This factor had girls falling all over themselves trying to capture his ever-elusive attention.

Quiana sighed and set her bag down, ignoring Rider's incessant whispered catcalls.

That Rider is such a waste of a wizard. What am I doing here? This isn't what Grandma Llewellyn or my father wanted. I should be getting an education...something to help me solve the mystery of this freak show I call my life.

Pansy Parkinson, who was tired of simply sitting idly and snickering, decided to contribute her thoughts of Quiana.

"Exhibit A: the Gryffindor freak." She denounced happily, with a heavy tone of disdain in her voice.

Caressing her wand, Quiana eyed the fat witch icily. "Exhibit B: the Slytherin Giant, the largest, yet most pitiful of creatures."

Draco squirmed uneasily in his seat. With each brush of her slim, artistic fingers...Draco gave himself a mental slap. No girl had ever been in such possession of his feelings. He had never let anyone get that close. Ironic, wasn't it? For years, he was the coveted prize of every girl that passed him by. And now the newest transfer student he hardly knew was in almost total control of his feelings.

Professor Flitwick remained oblivious to the students and continued in his drone about the Requiem Charm.

Quiana was in her own private world, drawing small pictures with her wand in the pre-carved desk. All she caught was the homework assignment...which was basically all she wanted to catch.

"...I expect a 3-foot from each of you on the Requiem and Burial Charm. I'll be looking forward to your 5 foot, Ms. Granger."

Hermione grinned politely from the other side of the room. "Thank you, Professor Flitwick. Would you mind if I included an extra charm relating to them also?"

What a kiss-ass. She wouldn't last 5 minutes in Alastriona. Then again, she probably wouldn't be good enough to get in anyway... Quiana thought, with a tinge of jealousy. Her eyes burned. She was always the most esteemed student in all of her classes. It unnerved her that she was moved back to the bottom of the food chain.

Professor Flitwick dismissed the class with a short wave of his hand.

Freedom! Quiana shoved everything back into her bag and jogged quickly out into the corridor.

Rider nudged Draco. "Why don't you try to work some of your Malfoy magic on her, eh?"

"Fuck off, Rider."

Rider held up his hands in a protective stance. "Fine, fine." A mischievous sparkle returned to his eye. "In that case..."

Running out the door to catch her, Rider obnoxiously shouted, "Someone's got a nice ass! Mind coming over for a shag sometime?"

Quiana halted in her tracks. There was nothing that pissed her off more than horny, annoying, 17-year-old guys who had nothing better to do than to hit on unsuspecting girls. Dropping her bag parallel to a wall, she turned around and marched efficiently toward the spot where Rider was standing, arms folded, whilst a smirk played on his face.

"Have you come to get me, baby?" he drawled.

But instead of stopping in front of him, like he expected, she kept going and at the last moment, outstretched both arms and shoved Rider forcibly against the stucco wall.

"Do you really want me?" She asked seductively, shoving her hand against his throat. "Do you?" she asked again, this time leaning all her weight upon that arm, slowly cutting off his airflow. Rider's chocolate eyes emanated his fear. It was then that he knew he messed with the wrong girl.

"No, no!" he managed to squeak.

Satisfied, Quiana let go of his throat and brushed a finger along the side of his chin. Rider shivered under the light touch.

"Don't make me do that again." She commanded in a low tone. Then, smiling attractively turned around and returned to retrieve her bag.

Great, next I have Herbology with Sprout. Maybe this will be a little more interesting... she commented sarcastically to herself.

As she continued in her path down the hall, she felt the heat of many eyes, Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Hermione, who was still standing in the Charms doorway, stared angrily after her. Why do I feel so jealous when I know I'm not? Is it because...because she's everything I wish I could be? No, Hermione. You're your own person. You have your own friends... and if anything, you'll always have them...right?