Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

Our letters from school arrive, detailing the list of books and supplies that we'll need for the upcoming school year. Hmm. A full set of books about monsters, by Gilderoy Lockhart? Upon comparing notes with the Weasleys, we discover that the same books have been assigned to every year.

"Oh, this is going to be expensive," Mrs. Weasley murmurs.

I frown deeply at that thought. Are all of these books really necessary? And who is this Gilderoy Lockhart fellow? He sounds like he must know an awful lot about magical creatures, if he's written this many books.

We Floo over to Diagon Alley for our school shopping. I fall out of the fireplace on the far end. I think I'm never going to get used to that method of travel. Our first stop is at Gringotts to withdraw some money for today's purchases. At the Weasley vault, there's only a small pile of primarily sickles, and Mrs. Weasley shoves the lot of it into her bag. At my own vault heaping with golden galleons, I grab a fair amount, more than I think I'll need.

After wandering around collecting supplies, we finally come to the bookstore, Flourish and Blotts. There's a sign outside proclaiming that Gilderoy Lockhart will be signing copies of his autobiography today. Well, that's awfully nice of him. I'm going to have to meet this man. I imagine he can tell me a lot about combat magic.

We go inside, and I get my first glimpse of Gilderoy Lockhart. He's a handsome man with wavy blond hair and blue eyes, wearing blue robes that match his eye color. He glances up and sees me, and exclaims, "If it isn't Harry Potter!" Gilderoy grabs my arm and practically drags me to the front. A little man aims a strange device at us, emitting smoke and clicking sounds.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," I say.

"I have an announcement to make!" Gilderoy says. "When Harry stepped into this shop, he only intended to buy my biography, Magical Me--"

"--actually I was going to buy all your books," I mutter.

"--but little did he realize that he and his classmates would soon be getting the real magical me, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor!"

"Wow, really?" I say. This has got to be better than a stuttering buffoon who happens to be possessed by a Dark Lord. At least this fellow is nicer to look at and doesn't smell funny.

Gilderoy -- or perhaps I should say Professor Lockhart -- presents me with a free copy of his autobiography, as well as each of his books. I let him monopolize me a little longer, and then beg off, saying that I still have a lot of school shopping left to do.

I haul the stack of books over to Ron and mutter, "You can have these. I'll buy my own."

We head out and scour the alley for the remainder of our school supplies. We split up and agree to meet up later, so I head off with Ron, who wants to drag me off to look at broomsticks. I'm not especially thrilled at the prospect, but I'm happy for the chance to be away from the smothering Weasleys for a little while.

"Would you look at that," Ron says. "The Nimbus 2001. Wicked, isn't it?"

"Yeah, sure," I say disinterestedly. "Tell you what, if you ever make the Quidditch team, I'll buy you a top-of-the-line broom of your own."

"I don't think that's likely to happen anytime soon, anyway," Ron says, a little dejectedly.

Enough of this. I'm going to go look at something more interesting. I creep over into a corner out of sight and pull out my invisibility cloak.

"Where are you going?" Ron asks.

"I'm going to Knockturn Alley to look at things I'm not supposed to be," I say. "Cover for me, will you?"

Ron stares at my vanishing form for a moment and snickers softly. "Sure, mate."

I slip out of the store and across Diagon Alley, carefully avoiding bumping into anyone along the way. The cloak might be a bit of overkill, but it wouldn't do for Mrs. Weasley or Percy to spot me heading into Knockturn Alley. I'm sure they'd give me a good chewing out if they caught me going into this place.

I find myself in Borgin and Burke's again, and look around. It looks like Frozen Viper is still on display. I make sure not to go anywhere near it. That damned thing might just kill me even if I were to merely accidentally brush against it. I'm not taking the chance today. I go over to the opposite corner of the store to examine a rather creepy mask. It seems like it's staring right back at me. I wonder what it does?

Bump! I go sprawling out onto the floor, my cloak half falling off of me.

"Hey, who's there?" demands a familiar voice.

Crap. Cover blown. I pull off my invisibility cloak and quickly tuck it away, and look up into the face of Draco Malfoy. "Hello, Draco," I say coolly.

"Harry Potter?" Draco says a little incredulously. "What are you, of all people, doing in this part of wizarding London?"

"Shopping," I reply vaguely.

Draco snickers softly. "I wouldn't expect the likes of you to have such tastes."

"Yeah, well, what can I say?" I say, smirking. "At least I got away from the Weasleys for a bit."

"Why are you with them, anyway?" Draco says.

"I'm spending the summer with them," I reply. "Although, to be perfectly honest, if I had realized that they lived in a barn, I'd have found somewhere else to stay."

Draco chuckles. "Now, what is that you were sneaking around with, anyway?"

I reluctantly pull out my invisibility cloak from my robes. He's already noticed it anyway, and whatever might be said of Draco, he's not dumb. "It's an invisibility cloak," I say. "Used to belong to my father."

Draco examines it carefully. "That's quite a nice one. Very finely made," he observes. "And you say it hasn't faded in all these years? They don't usually last that long." He pauses and looks at me with a sinister look in his eye. "I want it."

"What?" I say.

"You owe me a favor, Potter," Draco says. "Give me your cloak and we're even."

"I can't do that," I say. "I promised the Weasley twins that they could borrow it whenever they want to use it."

"Tough," Draco says. "That's your problem. Tell them what you like, but you're going to give me that cloak, or else."

I sigh. I'm reluctant to part with the cloak. It's very useful, after all. But a promise is a promise. "Fine," I say, handing it over to him. "Have fun with that, then."

Draco grins positively gleefully as he runs his hands over my cloak. I just look at him coldly before turning to head out of the shop quickly, and storm back toward Diagon Alley, hoping that nobody spots where I'm coming out of. Maybe if I'd been thinking ahead, I might have asked that he let me keep it long enough to sneak back into the broom shop where I'd left Ron. As it is, sure enough, Mrs. Weasley catches me coming out of Knockturn Alley and intercepts me.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley scolds. "What in the world were you doing in that sort of place?"

"I got lost," I lie.

Mrs. Weasley isn't buying it. "Harry, that is a very dangerous place for a boy your age to be going, especially by yourself! You don't know what sort of people you might meet in such a place. And you might run across horrible cursed items in some of those questionable kinds of shops."

"I ran into Draco Malfoy," I say quietly.

Mrs. Weasley frowns deeply at that. "Harry, promise me that you won't go running off like that again. You'll have me worried sick if you do things like that!"

I look at the ground guilty and murmur reflexively, "Sorry, Mum."

Mrs. Weasley suddenly softens and draws me into a sudden hug. "Oh, Harry." I wonder what's gotten into her, but I won't complain.

I can't promise that I won't run off or do questionable things from time to time. That would be dishonest. I'd never make a promise that I didn't intend to keep, and I'm glad that she got too distracted with hugging me to try to extract a real promise from me, rather than simply an apology.

"Tell you what," I say. "Why don't I treat you all to ice cream as an apology for sneaking off to places I'm not supposed to go?"

"Harry, that's bribery," Mrs. Weasley says gently.

"No, that's family," I reply.

"Oh, alright, alright," Mrs. Weasley says, hugging me again.

I can't wait until school starts up again. I love the Weasleys to death and all, but I have a feeling that they might wind up loving me to death from suffocation. I've died in some pretty embarrassing ways, but that would really take the cake. But hey, at least I managed a trip into Knockturn Alley without dying this time. Yeah, the result was actually worse than dying this time. Maybe I should just remember to avoid the place. Nothing good ever comes of it.

The summer finally ends, and the day arrives for us to go to King's Cross Station to catch the Hogwarts Express. We all stuff our trunks into Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia and pile inside. We wind up needing to go back a couple times to fetch Fred's broom and Ginny's diary, and we barely manage to make it onto the train in time.

"I thought we were going to miss the train," Ron says, panting as we head down the corridor looking for seats.

"You know, we could have just all packed the night before, and made sure we had everything before leaving the Burrow," I say, chuckling. "But that would be too easy and require foresight."

Percy goes off with the prefects, and Fred and George duck into a compartment with some other members of the house Quidditch team. The rest of us manage to find a compartment occupied only by a girl I don't recognize, who appears to be wearing earrings shaped like radishes. Or radishes as earrings, I'm not sure which.

"Excuse me," I say. "Do you mind if we sit here? Everywhere else is full up."

"Oh, certainly, come on in, Stormseeker."

I stumble halfway through sitting down and hit my head on the windowsill.

"Harry, are you alright?" Ginny says.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say. "Just a little clumsy."

"What did you call him?" Ron asks the strange girl.

"Stormseeker, of course. That's his title, don't you know?"

"Right..." I say, rubbing my forehead. Well, at least I'm not likely to wind up with another scar there. "Although most people just call me Harry Potter. What's your name?"

"I'm Luna Lovegood," she replies. "Some people call me 'Loony', though."

"She's our neighbor," Ginny says quietly. "She's in the same year as me."

Luna continues to stare at me with something of a dreamy expression. It reminds me a lot of Keolah. Is this girl a Seeker? Not the Quidditch sort, the Elkandu sort that sees all sorts of things. How did she know my prophetic name just by looking at me?

"Yeah, people call you loony because they think you're mad," Ron says. "Because you're always saying weird stuff."

"People don't believe me about the wrackspurts and the nargles either," Luna says distantly. "Even when their heads are clearly infested. They think I'm just making things up."

"Why would they think that?" I ask.

Luna shrugs faintly. "It's hard for people to believe things that they don't see for themselves," she replies.

"That's a rather narrow-minded view," I say. "Just because you can't see something doesn't mean it's not there."

"See, you understand," Luna says. "I knew you would, Stormseeker. You're not from this dimension, so your mind isn't clouded by what you already believe."

"I don't know that I'd call America another dimension," Ron says dryly.

In a way, I'm kind of relieved. Although Luna seems to know exactly who I am and where I'm from, nobody will ever believe her about it. In a way, that's kind of sad, really. She's obviously a Seeker, and can perceive far more than most people can, but instead of revering her power as they should, people instead believe that she's insane. I think back on Keolah... okay, people think that she's crazy, too, but at least they recognize her abilities for what they are. Maybe the people in this universe simply don't know what a Seeker is. That seems entirely likely. I haven't run across any mention in my classes or books so far on any typical Seeking abilities, like scrying or aura reading, and from what I've heard of Divination, that appears to be prophecy rather than anything more immediately useful.

"Out of curiosity, Stormseeker," Luna says, seeming to look right through me. "What made you decide to be Harry Potter?"

"Are you daft, girl?" Ron says. "It's not like he had much choice about it."

"There are always choices," Luna says.

"That's true," I say thoughtfully. "That's very true." I know that better than anyone, I think. "Even doing or not doing something is still a choice."

"You could be anyone or go anywhere, Stormseeker," Luna says. "Why did you decide to come to our dimension and be Harry Potter?"

"It sounded like a good idea at the time?" I say with a shrug.

"Why are you even humoring her?" Ron asks me. "She's obviously just spouting nonsense."

"There's no need to be rude, Ron," I say.

Thankfully, the sweets trolley arrives just then, and I buy enough treats to occupy everyone's mouths for a little bit and delay any complications for a while longer. Mrs. Weasley made Ron some corned beef sandwiches again, so I happily swap them for some Cauldron Cakes and Chocolate Frogs. Ginny quietly slips out to use the restroom. She's obviously not feeling particularly social at the moment.

"So, Luna," I say. "Tell me about the wrackspurts."

"They're invisible things that float into your head and make your thoughts get all fuzzy," Luna says.

"I imagine there must be quite the infestation of them at the Ministry of Magic," I comment lightly.

"Oh, yes, Stormseeker," Luna says. "How did you know?"

I snicker softly. "Just a hunch."

"Oh, come on," Ron says dubiously. "There aren't any invisible whatevers at the Ministry of Magic! That's ridiculous. These things don't exist!"

Luna blissfully ignores him. "Stormseeker, are you a prophet?"

"No," I reply.

"Hmm," Luna says. "You're right. That was the closest thing I could tell from your aura, but it's not quite right. I've never seen anything quite that shade of Time before. Except possibly... Oh! You wouldn't happen to be a time traveler, would you?"

I grin at her. Definitely a Seeker, and a very perceptive one at that. "I don't think the world is prepared for your truths, Luna," I tell her.

"No kidding," Ron says. "You think Harry is a time traveler from another dimension! That's just absurd."

"Don't worry, Luna," I say, winking at her. "I believe you."

"Mental," Ron says, shaking his head in bewilderment. "You're both mental."

Luna and I look at Ron for a moment, then look at one another and say in unison, "Wrackspurts."

We arrive at Hogwarts. Ginny and Luna go off with the other first years, separated off to take boats across the lake. Those of us who are second year and up are led over to some black carriages drawn by rather creepy, demonic horse-like creatures. I climb into one of them along with Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean.

"Carriages that go by magic!" Dean says.

"They must be spelled to move even though nothing is pulling them," Ron says.

I look at Ron strangely. "Has another wrackspurt gotten to you, Ron?"

"Huh?" Ron says.

"Right, I'll take that as a yes," I say.

"What are you on about, Harry?" Seamus asks.

"What's a wrackspurt?" Dean wonders.

"Something Loony Lovegood was going on about," Ron says. "Says they're invisible and only she can see them. As if!"

"And yet you can't see the creatures pulling the carriages?" I say.

"What are you talking about?" Ron asks. "What creatures?"

I smirk, and point out at them. "They're black horse-like creatures with bat-like wings."

The other three boys peer out to where I'm pointing, then stare at me. "There's nothing there, Harry," Neville says softly.

I sigh. "Now I know how Luna feels a lot of the time," I mutter.

The carriages come to a stop at the castle gates, and we climb out. I go up in front of the carriage we rode in and pat the nightmarish steed on the neck.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Ron wonders.

"Giving the beastie a pat on the neck," I reply.

"Mental," Ron mutters. "Completely mental."

I smirk, and head over to Hagrid, with Ron and Neville trailing along after me. "Good to see you, Harry," Hagrid says. "Up for another year of classes?"

"You better believe it," I say. "Hagrid, what do you call the creatures that pull the carriages?"

"Them?" Hagrid says. "Those're called thestrals."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ron says. "There's nothing there!"

"You can only see them if you've seen death," Hagrid says. "Most people your age won't be able to see them. But Harry can?"

"Well, I did see my parents die," I say, frowning a little. All fiction aside, I did see a lot of death during that first terrible day... Assuming that it doesn't count my own deaths, of course. But I've long since accepted that everyone at home is probably dead.

"That might do it, I suppose," Hagrid says. "Hogwarts has its own herd of thestrals. Ministry thinks they're dangerous, but properly trained, they're the most gentle things you'll ever meet."

"Wait, you mean there really is something there?" Ron says.

"That's what I'm telling you," Hagrid says. "You'd best move along, boys. Better get into the Great Hall and seated at your tables before the first years come in for the Sorting."

We head in and take seats at the Gryffindor table, in time to watch the new incoming first years enter nervously. They each get called up and put on the Sorting Hat one by one, and go off to the tables of their new houses. When "Lovegood, Luna" gets called up, I smile reassuringly over to her. She gets sorted into Ravenclaw. "Weasley, Ginevra" is the last in the year to be sorted, and when she gets "GRYFFINDOR!", the gaggle of redheads around me lets out a collective cheer.

Ginny comes over to sit down across from me and Ron. "Your name is Ginevra?" I say.

She nods a little sheepishly. "It's embarrassing, I know..." she murmurs.

"It's a pretty name," I say.

Ginny blushes intensely and looks like she wants to sink into the floor.