The Eagle's Eye

The Eagle's Eye

One

Black Doubts

It was a brilliant and clear morning to be heading back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the usual clamor of activity became a buzz of excitement in the Weasley house. Harry Potter was already awake when his best friend Ron's mother burst in, saying "Wakey, wakey dears," in her nervous, over mothering voice. Harry smiled, indeed grateful that he had found a surrogate family in the Weasleys, an odd assortment of red-haired witches and wizards of varying ages, shapes and sizes. In fact, they were the only true family he had known.

His parents had died when he was a baby, and he had spent the first 11 miserable years of his life being raised by the Dursleys, his only living relatives, not that they cared to admit they shared a milliliter of his blood. The Dursleys were Muggles (non magical folk), and looked upon him and his world with contempt and fear. He supposed if it were up to them, his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Cousin Dudley would have preferred that Voldemort killed him along side of his mother and father. No one could ever explain why he had lived, and why Voldemort had found his downfall in being unable to harm him other than leave a lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead... a reminder that seemed to make Harry renowned throughout the wizarding world.

A dull ache made his forehead twinge as he thought of the dark wizard whom he had faced several times during his tenure at Hogwarts... a dark magician who seemed to have only one clear-cut goal... to kill him and restore his rise to power. All of Harry's encounters with Voldemort had been narrow escapes for him, perhaps because he was still weak from his first defeat. Harry, however, did not fool himself. Nearly two years ago, he had seen Voldemort regain his body and many of his supporters. Somehow, he knew they would all be thirstier for his blood.

It was not the thoughts of his constant peril which were keeping him awake, nor the death of his parents and the persecution of the Dursleys. And he, unlike Ron, who was now stirring, being insistently prodded awake by his mother, was not awash with the excitement of entering their sixth year at Hogwarts. Sixth and seventh years get to do all of the really good classes... we'll have the run of the school... It's all Harry heard all summer from him. Of course Ron would be excited, because for the first time, he would be the oldest Weasley on the school grounds. He would not have to live under the scrutiny of Percy, who had been a prefect and Head Boy, nor would he have to feel the fall-out from pranks gone awry from his twin brothers, Fred and George, who had just finished school and opened a magic and joke shop. Only Ginny, Ron's little sister, remained at Hogwarts, a shy fifth year Weasley who had a mad crush on Harry. With Fred and George gone, Ron was desperately hoping to make the Gryffindor House Quidditch team, the team for which Harry had been a seeker since his first year. Indeed, Harry thought, it would be tough year for Gryffindor Quidditch. There were gaping holes left in the team by recent graduations; and although Hogwarts had not had a house championship since Gryffindor had last won two years ago, Harry knew how their last Captain and keeper Oliver Wood had felt, in wanting to win that Quidditch Cup... To keep the cup. Harry had always felt his best when he was playing Quidditch. He loved flying above the cheering stadium on his Firebolt broomstick. Sometimes he felt that playing Quidditch was the only thing he was really good at… that, and escaping death from Voldemort.

But even the thoughts of playing Quidditch and how difficult it would be to rebuild a strong team were not at the forefront of his worries. His biggest concern hinged around man named Sirius Black, his godfather.

Sirius was still on the run from the Ministry of Magic, blamed for many Muggle deaths, and the deaths of Harry's parents. Even though Harry, his friends, and most importantly Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, knew he was innocent, the Ministry had still not cleared his name, preferring to keeping a blind eye to the truth, in hopes that ignorance would mean that Voldemort had not returned.

Harry felt as through he was outside himself, going through the motions of getting dressed and making sure the rest of his school gear packed, while Ron chattered away about the vacant Quidditch Keeper position,... anticipation of classes,... Hermione's appointment to prefect of their house…giving Draco Malfoy his comeuppance if he gave them any grief this year... Harry looked over at the empty cages that belonged to Hedwig, and Pigwidgeon, his and Ron's owls. Harry had not heard from Sirius in months, and when Sirius had missed his sixteenth birthday over a month ago, Harry couldn't keep himself from sending owl posts to him, using his, Ron's and every other owl he could find.

He was quick to scan "The Daily Prophet" every day and to listen to what Mr. Weasley and Percy talked about when they came home from their jobs at the ministry. If Sirius had been captured, it would headline news.

"Eat the rest of your porridge, dear, we don't want to be late," fussed Mrs. Weasley, keeping a wary eye on her husband who was tottering down the stairs with Ginny's over-stuffed trunks.

"Don't worry Harry," Ron said, behind a large piece of toast. "We'll hear word any day now."

Harry blinked, suddenly bringing himself back to reality. He smiled gratefully at Ron, who seemed to know the anxiety he felt. "Crikey, Ginny. Could you have packed any more stuff?" he asked in the same breath, bolting to catch the trunk that was about to squash his father. Harry too, leapt up to lend a hand, trying not to look at the crimson flush that was creeping across Ginny's already freckled face.

"Teenagers!" Molly tutted, before giving an admonishing look to her daughter. "You're going to be the death of us...not in school to primp and socialize...could take an example from your brothers...well, not Fred and George of course,.." Harry laughed, as the words seemed to follow them out to the car, in which they would ride to the train station.

"I think we'll have to put a leg-iron charm on her this year," Ron laughed as he and Harry heaved the rest of Ginny's gear into the back of the Ministry car Arthur Weasley had secured for their ride to the train station.

"At least you might not get the next howler from your Mum," Harry replied, brushing what appeared to be spilled make-up powder off of his jeans.

At that moment, Hedwig soared over their heads, and with a graceful swoop, dropped a parchment at Harry's feet, before circling and landing on the top of the car. Harry's Heart leapt as he unrolled the parchment, "At last!"

Ron was looking eagerly over his shoulder at the parcel. Harry's disappointment returned in a staggering wave, which was followed by guilt. The letter was not from Sirius, as he had hoped, but instead was written in Hermione's tiny neat lettering.

Hi Harry,

I just wanted to let you know I look forward to seeing you and Ron tonight. I've been summoned to Hogwarts a week early for prefects meetings, and to help prepare for the school year. It's dreadfully quiet and lonely without everyone here, but I have been enjoying full run of the library. This is going to be an interesting year for all of us, I daresay. I can't tell you more right now. I'll see you tonight. Do be sure you and Ron arrive at the train platform on time this time, won't you? Any news from Sirius?

See you soon. Love from

Hermione.

"Leave it to her to find a way to study during vacation," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I wonder what she means by an interesting year, though," Harry replied, unable to remember when a year at Hogwarts had not been interesting.

"Right," Ron replied, "You know Percy never had to go back early, even when he was Head Boy."

Harry nodded, he remembered that year well. That was the year before he had won the Triwizard Cup, and the year before Voldemort had returned to his body and his band of Death Eaters had returned to him. Harry didn't know if he could take the stress of a year more interesting than that.

The rest of the morning was uneventful as the Hogwarts Express steamed through the hills and valleys taking its manifest of assorted students back to school. Harry and Ron shared a compartment, and talked about the upcoming year with each other and with the seemingly endless stream of classmates who popped in to visit them.

Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan stopped in just as the sweets trolley was coming past. It was no secret to them that Harry and Ron almost always nearly emptied the cart of candy and cakes.

"And Neville nearly missed the train because some Muggles spotted him tripping through the barrier.... Nearly gave them both heart attacks," Seamus laughed. "He's sure to get a howler for that one,"

"Well, he nearly flunked out last year 'cos of bloody Snape, didn't he?" Dean answered. "'E liked to have give him a nervous breakdown."

Harry would have liked it if he had forgotten about Professor Snape, his least favorite teacher. It was clear that the feelings from the potions master were mutual. He was brutally menacing to almost all of the students except for those in Slytherin, the house that he headed, but his dislike for Harry was becoming well known.

"Perhaps he'll be more bearable this year," Seamus added.

"Why d'ya fink?" asked Ron, his mouth stuffed with chocolate frogs and a Fizzing Whizzbee.

"Well, it looks like he'll finally have his shot at the Dark Arts, doesn't it?" Dean responded, as if it were obvious.

In all of their previous five years at Hogwarts, they had not kept a professor in the "Defense of the Dark Arts" for more than three terms, although Professor Snape did not hide the fact it was a position he wanted.

"Nah, Bumb'l'dore woulda put 'im there before if 'e wanted him to teach it," Ron said, chewing on what looked like a long green sugary shoelace.

"Hey, would ya look a' that?!!!" Seamus interrupted the conversation, pointing out the window.

All four boys pushed their noses into the window to see what he was pointing at.

"Is it an owl post?" asked Dean as they watched the soaring dark figure zoom closer and closer.

"I don't think that's any owl," Harry said as the creature came more clearly into view. The sun was starting to set now, casting gold and gray shadows across the land. Eerie silvery light flickered across the great wings of the bird as its shape became more distinct.

Their mouths hung open, as the bird approached at supersonic speed, looking as if it would collide with the train. Instead, it swooped over the top, and they could see it circling on the other side. Ginny and the two fifth year girls she was sitting with in the opposite compartment squealed as the great bird of prey repeated its maneuver back over the top of the train, and descended right next to their window.

"It's massive!" Ron exclaimed, and indeed, Harry had never seen a bird quite as big as this one. It looked like an eagle the size of a horse, and its great wingspan created a huge dark shadow over their part of the train. Its body was completely black except for its head, and its tail feathers, which were snowy white, more silvery than Dumbledore's beard.

Harry couldn't help but to have another overwhelming feeling that the bird was watching him. He found himself staring into its huge gold-silver eye for a moment as it kept pace with the train, and a shiver worked its way down his back and tingled every part of his skin. He was strangely hypnotized....

BANG!

A small explosion toppled all four of the boys on top of each other, to the sound of familiar snickering.

"Oh, sorry Weasley," drawled a tall pale boy with slick blonde hair, standing over them with a gorilla of a boy on either side of him. "I'll bet that great turkey could have fed your family for a year," he gloated, pocketing his wand.

"Get out of here, Malfoy," Ron warned, red-faced, as he and Harry extricated themselves from their classmates on the floor.

"Or what?" Malfoy dared him, his eyes narrowed, as his two goon friends, Crabbe and Goyle, pressed in on either side, menacingly, "You'll have your mother sit on me?" he laughed.

Ron lunged forward, barely held back by Harry and his friends, and Ginny yelled "Ron, No!" from across the train as he took his wand out, trembling.

Just then the train slowed to a stop, letting out a long blast from its whistle. They had arrived at Hogwarts, and almost instantly Hagrid, the giant gamekeeper, thrust his head in, calling for the new first years to disembark. "Good ev'nin gen'lemen," he said looking from each one of their faces to the other. "Le's get a move on then," he added

"He's not worth getting expelled over," Harry said to Ron, who was still scarlet from rage, his fists clenched in white knuckled fury. Malfoy and his brutish friends, who had been their enemies since their first day at Hogwarts, conveniently disappeared down the other end of the train.

"He's still fuming he didn't get made prefect of Slytherin again this year," Dean added.

This seemed to unruffle Ron a little, as he pulled his robes free off Harry's grasp. "Ger'off Harry," he muttered, and strode out of the door Hagrid had just been in. Harry pushed his glasses back up on his nose and looked out of the window once more, but the bird was gone. He thought of asking Hagrid, now surrounded hip high in quaking first year students, if he had seen it, but instead decided to dash after Ron into the cool night air, toward the carriages that would take them up to the castle and into their sixth year at Hogwarts.

Two

American Invasion

"Harry,! Ron,!.... over here!" Hermione Granger was waving at her friends as they entered the Great Hall, where she had saved them both seats near the middle of the Gryffindor table.

Perhaps it was a combination of the warmth of the Great Hall, or being back at school and seeing their friend Hermione again, but Harry's spirits were immediately lifted, as he slid into a seat next to her. Ron also seemed to have forgotten about his previous encounter with Malfoy, as he was grinning broadly, giving Hermione a half arm hug. She seemed to have grown over the summer holidays, in many different ways. Her usually thin, tomboyish figure seemed to have filled out, and her crisp new robes swayed in a very flattering way.

Even her face filled out, and her usual buckteeth seemed to have evened, in fact, she was quite pretty. The only thing that never seemed to change was her thick, unruly brown hair, which was doing its best to escape the cap she had tried to force it under.

"You're not going ter let tha' thing go to yer head, like it did Percy's are you?" Ron asked, squinting at the silver Prefect badge, she had pinned to her robe. "I don't think I can bear another one of you," he added, causing Harry to laugh too.

Seeing Hermione immediately made him look over at the Ravenclaw table, hoping to catch a glimpse of their beautiful seeker, Cho Chang. She would be in her seventh and last year now, and the very thought of her made Harry's chest quite tight, and his mouth dry.

Hi did not see her, however, noticing that either the four tables representing all four houses either seemed larger, or there were more people missing than usual. He had thought to ask Hermione about it, but she instead was asking him quietly, "Any news from Sirius?"

Harry shook his head "No, and I've sent dozens of owls." He couldn't keep the concern out of his voice.

"Well, when Hedwig turned up here three days ago, she wasn't carrying anything," Hermione admitted. "Surely he is getting your letters, but perhaps he feels it's too dangerous to reply, with the dementors still chasing him, and Voldemort out there as well,"

Harry knew that Hermione was trying to be positive, and lift his spirits. Perhaps she was right. Times were indeed very tricky for Sirius. He did not, after all, have the shelter of Hogwarts or the safety of Dumbledore, the headmaster, looking out for them.

Harry immediately looked up to the teachers’ table. Dumbledore was sitting at his usual center position, looking as old, but as wise and generous as ever. Times had been tough on Albus Dumbledore, especially the last five years Harry had been at Hogwarts. As if reading his mind, Dumbledore seemed to look right at Harry with a wink and a small smile.

Harry nodded back at him, as he began to survey the rest of the teacher's table. Most of the professors looked more cheerful than they had in the past year or so. Professor Flitwick was telling a joke or story which was making Professor Sprout and Madame Hooch blush and laugh. Hagrid had resumed his usual seat on the end, with a twinkle in his eye and a nod to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Professor McGonagall's seat was still empty, so they knew that she must be almost ready to bring the new first years into the Great Hall for the sorting ceremony.

The seat next to Professor McGonagall's was also empty, perhaps awaiting the arrival of a new professor. Harry's eyes then fell on the only dark figure at the table who didn't seem to be enjoying himself. Professor Snape, their potions master, seemed as pale and surly-looking as ever. His small beady black eyes were scouring the student body with malevolence and distaste. Harry would have thought he would be a bit less sour, seeing as he was the last one left for the position he had always wanted, "Defense of the Dark Arts," Unless...

"Hermione," Harry turned to his friend, full of anticipation, "Who’s supposed to be in that seat next to Snape?"

Hermione's reply was interrupted by the entrance of Professor McGonagall, the strict head of Gryffindor house, followed by stream of tiny and terrified first years, all heading to the front of the Great Hall where the Sorting Hat sat upon a four-legged stool.

All eyes were upon them, as the musty old Sorting Hat was placed on each of their heads, and spouted out which houses they were going to. Only Harry didn't erupt into the cheers with the rest of the hall while the new students were sorted into their new school families of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin. His attention was instead focused on a tall, statuesque woman with shoulder length shiny jet black hair who had entered the great hall from a door just behind Dumbledore. Harry watched as she leaned over, speaking to the headmaster with an expression he could not read. Dumbledore nodded several times as she spoke, and finally gestured her toward the empty chair next to Professor Snape.

Harry watched her in fascination, as she gracefully took her place at the table. He did not miss the fact that Snape cringed away from her; she looked at Snape with a raised eyebrow, finally extending one of her hands toward him.

Snape looked from her hand to her with a mixture of disgust, and mistrust before finally taking it in a lightening quick introductory shake, and pulling away from her again as if he had received a shock. Harry began to wonder if this woman was a witch at all, as she was not wearing the typical hat and cloak they all wore. Indeed her long black robes looked more parliamentary or judicial than the hooded cloaks they traditionally wore. And a greeting of shaking hands? Wasn't that a Muggle gesture of greeting? It certainly wasn't the formal way most wizards and witches greeted each other.

But surely they wouldn't have a non-magical professor. It was common knowledge that Muggles had no way of finding Hogwarts through its many enchantments and camouflage spells.

Harry suddenly felt very aware that this tall stranger was staring straight at him, or was it through him? Her grey-green eyes seemed to penetrate his every thought, every fiber of existence, making him feel strangely uneasy, as if he were being weighed and measured where he sat with unblinking scrutiny.

Harry, by now was used to being stared at, but this feeling was very different. As quickly as their eyes made contact, she smiled with a tilt of her head, which made him forget all about being unnerved. She was clapping now, along with the whole hall. The sorting ceremony had ended, and even though he had been sitting there at the Gryffindor table the whole time, Harry couldn't help but to feel that he had missed the whole thing again.

Dumbledore gave them all a brief welcome and a few announcements, and then the feast began, the sights, smells and tastes of savory food consuming everyone's attention. Harry had almost forgotten how hungry he was, and judging from the enormous piles of food Ron heaped on his plate, the ravenous feelings were mutual.

"Hermione," Harry finally asked, spooning the last of his desert in his mouth, "who is that new teacher sitting next to Snape?" he tried his best to sound casual, wondering why he felt nervous even asking about her.

"Well, I haven't met her yet," Hermione replied, looking at her watch for about the thousandth time that evening. It became clear to Harry that Hermione was acting very anxious, as if she was running late for class (a very rare occasion). "But I suspect that's Professor Law, Lucinda Law....she's an American," she added surreptitiously, in a voice Harry could not distinguish between awe, or disapproval.

Before Harry could question her any further, Dumbledore was on his feet, and the Great Hall fell silent.

"I have a few announcements before you retire to your houses for the evening," he addressed them in his soft yet resonant voice. "This will be a very interesting year for all of us I trust, as we are doing something we have never done before."

All eyes were on the headmaster with nervous expectation. The last time he made an announcement like this, Hogwarts was hosting the Triwizard Tournament, an event where one of their classmates was killed, changing the whole atmosphere of the place for the last two years.

"But, first things first," Dumbledore continued; "I would like to introduce the newest member of our faculty, Professor Lucinda Law." He gave a wide gesture toward the tall young woman seated next to Snape. "Professor Law will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and I hope you will all make her feel welcome.

There was a silent pause of disbelief, before the whole hall erupted into deafening applause... well, almost the whole hall. The Slytherin table was still looking shell shocked, and Professor Snape scowled, slumping deeper into his chair, clapping once or twice with a great deal of effort.

Professor Law was beaming with a beautiful smile, and gave a slight bow of appreciation. Ron, Dean and half the room were on their feet, cheering with great enthusiasm. A woman edged Snape out again, this time! It was almost too wonderful for them to think about.

Dumbledore raised his hands slightly, and everyone started to quiet down. "Yes, yes, well, I am sure Professor Law appreciates your enthusiasm, as she has the additional task of being in charge of our newest program here at Hogwarts, one with which I'm sure all of you can be very helpful," he continued. "A program where we will be hosting a group of American Exchange students." A stunned hush fell over the entire room.

It didn't last long however, as Dumbledore turned toward Law and said, "Ah, and I believe your students have finally arrived, Professor," he announced, just as the doors of the Great Hall were flung open, to show the strangest group of teen-aged wizards and witches anyone of them had ever seen.

But as out of place as this blue jeaned, bulging-parkaed, boisterous group seemed to be, they showed no notice of it, as they stepped into the great hall in a kind of V formation behind a tall athletic looking boy with long blonde hair, who had a thin flat board with wheels neatly tucked under his arm, and a woolen cap pulled down over his eyebrows.

"Sorry we're late everyone," he announced flashing a perfect smile, and dark blue eyes which made many of the girls, including Hermione blush madly, "Nightmare air-traffic over Dublin ya' know," he added, with a wink.