The Seers' Truth: A Broken Beginning

Chapter 12

Quidditch and Curses

Hermione and several others had already slipped out to the library. Ron and Harry headed for the Quidditch tryouts, and they didn't care if anyone else came with them or not.

Angelina, Fred, George and Harry were the returning Quidditch team members. Although Angelina was chosen as captain, she reminded Harry that, if she were absent due to her duties with the war, he would have to take over the strategy and give the team their pep talk.

Angelina and Madam Hooch arranged the Quidditch tryouts by starting with the youngest and slowest of the riders. Angelina didn't want to intimidate them by letting them see the more experienced players too early. First, they just flew around the goal posts. She asked for increasingly more speed. Then she asked them to take one hand and then two hands off the broom. Anyone who could not do that was disqualified. Samara was one of those who Angelina was ready to disqualify, because she could just barely let go of her broom and anyone could see that she was very tense about it.

Harry called Angelina aside. "Yesterday was Samara's first time on a broom," he said. "If she can even think about taking her hands off of it, she can only get better, and she is fast."

Madam Hooch agreed that Samara had promise so Angelina nodded and kept Samara in the group that still had a chance to make the team.

"Sorry we're late," said Joe, as he and Colin came flying up to the Quidditch pitch.

"You aren't allowed to fly along the grounds paths," admonished Madam Hooch sternly.

"Sorry," said Colin. "We were asleep in Defense class and thought we missed the tryouts."

Madam Hooch gave them a puzzled look.

"Defense against sleeping wards," explained Harry, and Madam Hooch nodded, going back to her explanation.

"We have an opening for a Keeper," said Madam Hooch, explaining that position to those who never played Quidditch. Those who wish to try out for keeper lined up on one side of the field. One at a time, Angelina assigned them the task of guarding the goal. Then all of the other people who had come to try out fired a Quaffle at the rings in quick succession. No one managed to keep out all of the points.

In fact, what they were doing was much harder than it ever would be in a game and Colin Creevey protested.

"Right," said Angelina, "in the game you will not have Quaffles in quick succession. Instead some of the balls coming toward you will be Bludgers."

Colin nodded and agreed grudgingly. Lyle Applegate, a sixth year who had lusted after Oliver Wood's job for 4 years, Ron Weasley and Colin Creevey had all only let 3 people score. Angelina demanded that both Ron and Colin try out for the other openings.

"That way," she said, "if I can choose you for the other position, I will still have a back up keeper for emergencies." She quietly told Harry and the twins that she felt she had to use Lyle for the first string keeper, even though Ron and Colin were both good enough for the job. They would be great for the needed back up.

Next she tried sending pairs of people up to see how they passed the Quaffle. It was almost impossible to tell the best players because sometimes they were paired with the worst ones. After several rearrangements of the players, she switched to having them pass and then try to score. She had the field narrowed down to eight hopefuls who included Ron, Ginny and Colin, but she couldn't get any closer to a decision.

"I need to be up there," Angelina told Madam Hooch. She looked at Harry and the twins. "I need your honest opinion," she said.

Although both the twins and Harry wanted to pick Ron, he just wasn't a chaser. He telegraphed his moves too much. As beaters, the twins knew they could hit him with a Bludger whenever they wanted to. "He'll get killed as a chaser," they agreed, and as much as Harry wanted him on the team, he had to vote Ron off as a chaser. Ginny was like focused lightening. There was little doubt that she would make the team. It was obvious she had practiced hard with her brothers this summer. Christi Prentice, a third year girl was also fast. They would put her as first string with Ginny and Angela. Colin was a back up chaser and Ron was a back up keeper under Applegate.

Finding beaters to back up Fred and George was almost impossible. Christi could hit the Bludger about 50 percent of the time, but she was too small and didn't have the power needed. Anyway, she was a much better chaser. Joe, Ron's little brother, also could occasionally connect with the Bludger. Samara hit it once but then she caught an updraft, which nearly unseated her. When she grabbed at her broom, she dropped the Bludger bat. It careened into the air below her, narrowly missing Angelina who was preoccupied with watching other players.

Apparently, hitting the thing with a bat while moving at tremendous speeds was a lot harder than Harry thought. Finally, they chose 4 replacements for Fred and George: Joe and three other boys who were big enough to have the strength to hit the Bludger, but didn't have the accuracy.

"We'll work with them," said Fred and George. "In fact, let's just leave it open to whomever wants to practice with us. Maybe someone else will show up, with a little eye hand coordination and strength at the same time," said Fred.

"What about that Halston boy who was a year younger than us?" asked George. "He tried out last year didn't he? Why isn't he here?"

Angelina shook her head. "Didn't come back. I heard his family moved to Australia."

"Josie Perkins?" asked Fred.

"Didn't return to Hogwarts this year either."

After throwing up several more students' names for consideration, Fred and George just hung their heads. "I knew the Hall looked empty, I just didn't realize how many people didn't come back," moaned George. "What's the team going to do when we have to go on these field trips into the war zone?"

"I don't know," said Angelina. "I just don't know."

"We'll find someone," said Harry, trying to sound hopeful, but he was more than a little nervous. He knew he depended upon Fred and George to keep the Bludgers off of him, but watching the ninety plus connection rate that they had with the Bludger and the fifty percent connection rate these recruits had, he couldn't help but be nervous. He'd better practice evasive maneuvers.

"Ok," said Angelina loudly. "Thanks everyone for trying out. You have all been great and if you don't make the team this year, there's always next year. Also, remember that if you are chosen for an alternate, you are really important and will get to play in some games this year. If Fred and George Weasley are not here in the first few games, we will have to make a quick decision about alternate Beaters; however, we would like to invite all eight of you to come to a special Beater practice that will be held by Fred and George Weasley. The times for that practice will be posted with the team list in the great hall. You can expect the Team List and practice times to be posted tomorrow morning in the Great Hall. Have a good night!"

At that time, Ron and Ginny rushed up to Harry, Angelina and the twins. "How'd we do?" asked Ron.

"Oh no," said Angela. "Don't pester your brothers. They aren't allowed to tell you who the new team members will be. In fact," she winked at the twins, "they don't even know for sure. You'll have to wait for the posting, like everybody else."

"Well, you don't have to worry about telling me," Samara grinned. "I stunk. Sorry I almost hit you with a Bludger bat," she apologized to Angelina.

"At least it wasn't on purpose," Angela said, giving the twins a look.

"What?" said Fred. "We never threw a Bludger bat at you."

"First year."

"Oh yeah," said George. "Well, sorry."

"Long ago forgiven, guys," Angelina laughed.

Harry was frowning at Samara. "Did you get hit in the eye?" he asked. They all turned to look at her.

"Oh no," she said realizing that they were seeing her sweat streaked eye makeup. "It's Muggle makeup. It's kind of like a glamour charm except that it washes off--or sweats off." She rubbed under her eyes and tried to get the smears off. Actually, she did pretty well in making herself presentable again without a mirror.

"Is that better?" she asked Ginny.

Ginny nodded.

"So this stuff is like a charm?" asked Fred.

"Well, probably more like a potion. Usually, a thick potion."

"And what is this stuff used for?" asked George.

"Basically, the same as a glamour charm. Covers pimples--well not really, but Muggles can hope."

"Or freckles?" asked Ginny hopefully.

"Not that well, but it does make them less noticeable."

"I'd like to try it," said Ginny.

"Me too," said Angelina. "If that would be alright."

Samara shrugged. "Sure."

"I just bought some great sparkling nail polish you can share if you like," Ginny said to Samara. "And, contrary to what Lavender may tell you, I do know how to dry nail polish. I won't set your fingers on fire."

"Oh I don't know," Samara teased. "You look like a tomboy to me."

"What!!" Ginny stopped in her tracks.

"Tomboy--Oh," Samara said, "Muggle reference. A 'tomboy' is a girl who is athletic, likes sports--"

"Oh, yeah," said Ginny, "I knew that."

The girls turned and headed toward the girl's dorm, leaving Fred and George both deep in thought.

===

At Dinner, conversation revolved around Quidditch tryouts until the hopefuls learned that neither Fred and George, nor Harry was going to reveal who made the team. That was Angelina's job, so they would just have to wait for the posting.

Eventually, conversation strayed to how each of them managed to hold on to their wands in Defense. Samara, they assumed, was more closely attuned to her wand since she had made it. Harry, after facing Voldemort, especially last year, felt much more comfortable with a wand in his hand than in his pocket. In fact, he didn't tell any of his friends, but he found himself checking his pocket several times during the day just to be sure it was still there. Perhaps that was because Crouch found it so easy to steal his wand during the Quidditch World Cup. Perhaps it was because the dull ache in his scar hardly ever went completely away. Of course, he didn't trust Snape either, and felt most comfortable in Snape's class with a wand in his hand.

"Edward," asked Harry, "did you find out any more about how your brother and Malfoy held on to their wands in Defense?"

"I think it's mostly a matter of trust," said Edward. "Or lack of it."

That made sense to Harry. He certainly didn't trust Snape.

Edward talked more about Malfoy than himself. He said Malfoy didn't trust Snape any more than Harry did. Harry thought it must be hard to live in a house where some were Death Eaters, some were against Voldemort and some were judiciously trying to straddle the fence. Edward said that Malfoy was surprised any of the Slytherins had lost their wands to Snape, given the situation in Slytherin.

When Edward started to talk about himself, he seemed more withdrawn and harder to read. Given what his twin had said, Harry could understand Edward better. Like Ron, Edward lived in the shadow of his brother. Edward simply said that his Granny had also told him to hold his wand like he needed to use it. It gave Harry an uncomfortable feeling when he called her Granny. He tried to imagine Edward's grandmother and couldn't. Finally Edward laughed.

"What's so funny?" asked Harry.

"I was just wondering if we could get Snape's wand off of him," said Edward.

"That's not funny," squeaked Ron. "That's suicidal."

"Well, wouldn't it be nice to see the look on his face?"

"No," said Ron, "Because we wouldn't get his wand. We'd get about a million points deducted from Gryffindor. And our heads deducted from our necks!"

"Unless you wanted to place it as a challenge for your brother--" suggested Harry.

"Forget it guys," said Hermione. "Snape would just hex you without a wand. Haven't you ever noticed how many times he does magic without it?"

"Without it?" said Ron.

"Yes," said Hermione. "Even first year when I set his robes on fire--"

"You what!" shouted Edward. "You set a teacher's--"

"Mutus!" said Samara.

Everyone in the great hall seemed to be looking their way. "I don't think Hermione meant that to be common knowledge," whispered Samara as she undid the muting spell.

"No, not really," said Hermione. "Snape never did find out who did the spell. I thought I was stopping a curse against Harry. Snape was muttering with no wand and Harry's broom was out of control. Then, there was the plate at dinner yesterday, for instance," said Hermione. "And he never used his wand to put potions back on the shelves last year, he just pointed and they went. No wand. No banishing words. He does it all the time."

"No words either?" said Edward. "You have to have one or the other--"

"Nope," said Hermione.

"But--" began Edward.

"I'm sure," said Hermione. "Remember Neville's coughing syrup last year?"

Harry started to laugh softly so Neville didn't hear.

"It really wasn't that funny," said Ron petulantly.

"Neville was on the wrong page in the book," Hermione explained to Edward. "He thought it was 'coughing syrup' instead of 'cough relief syrup' and the ingredients actually start out the same. The last five are different, but similar: beetle legs instead of beetle wings. Powdered bicorn instead of tincture of bicorn, one whole live spider instead of spider legs--things like that.

"Anyway, Neville has all these wrong ingredients from the students' cupboard and he puts them in, all but the live spider, which he didn't want to take out of the jar. He was fussing with it, and spilled the whole cauldron--right on the spiders. The first spider completed the potion and the rest of them all started coughing. Fifty coughing spiders running and jumping all over the room. They got in a couple other potions."

"It was horrible," said Ron with a shudder.

"Malfoy was so mad at Neville he hexed all his fingers into thumbs," said Harry.

"I was trying to help Neville," Hermione continued, "and Snape just comes over like a whirlwind. He starts tossing jars out of Neville's way--well, not really tossing--just directing them quickly back to the cupboard. 'You don't need this--you don't need this--' and the jars just flew right back, in order and put themselves on the shelves." Hermione paused, remembering her amazement. "The labels were even turned right," she said.

"Then he pointed at the ones he wanted and they flew back to Neville's desk. Snape never touched his wand and he never said a single word to the jars. He was too busy yelling at Neville."

"I remember," said Harry. "And poor Neville had to come back after Madam Pomfrey fixed his fingers and finish the potion. In fact, Neville told us, Madam Pomfrey needed seven cauldrons more of it, so Snape made him brew all seven--one at a time."

"Harry," said Hermione in horror. "Your ears!"

"What?" he stopped with a forkful of mashed potatoes and gravy half way to his mouth and put it down. He reached up and touched his ear. It felt furry--and long--and getting longer.

He looked around at the rest of the table. Ron, Neville, Joe, and Samara were also growing long gray donkey ears.

"Stop," called Hermione. "Don't eat anything else. It's probably something in the food."

Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table. They were practically rolling on the floor with laughter.

Malfoy, however, picked himself up and flanked by Crabbe and Goyle and walked calmly over to the Gryffindor table. "When you act like an ass," he said softly, "you tend to start to look like one."

"Eat shit, Malfoy," Samara growled under her breath. She got up from the table with as much dignity as she could muster and stalked out of the Great Hall. It was only when Malfoy suddenly turned a little green and ran from the room with both hands over his mouth that Harry realized that Samara did not have her wand in her hair when she left.

"Did I miss something?" Ron asked confusedly.

"I think Samara just got even for your burping slugs in second year," said Harry. "So, shall we go to Madam Pomfrey to get these ears fixed?"

"Ah, after the peach cobbler," said Ron, scratching a long gray ear, and reaching for desert.

"You don't know which food it's in!" said Joe horrified.

"I'd guess it's a meat product," said Beatrice. Only Beatrice, Lou, Hermione and Edward were spared the indignity of the donkey ears.

"Lou and I are vegetarians," Beatrice continued. "Hermione was talking and hardly ate anything, and Edward?" She stopped a questioning look in her eyes.

"Was the one who set us up," said Harry.

"I didn't," said Edward. He paused looking for some sympathy and finding none. "It's the gravy," said Edward suddenly. "I don't like gravy."

"So that's where you put the potion, right?" snarled Ron.

"No. Don't you see? My brother knows I don't like gravy. He wanted you to turn on me. I swear I didn't put anything in the food." But in spite of Edward's protests, the Gryffindor's eyed him suspiciously.

Fred and George, also sporting donkey ears, heard the exchange, and came over to their part of the table but they both stopped short to allow Eloise Midgen to escape.

"I can't believe you took a picture of me," she screeched at Colin, while waving his camera above her fuzzy gray head. With ears flapping, she sprinted from the room,

"Elly! Where are you going?" Colin shouted.

"To drop your camera off the top of the Astronomy Tower!" she shouted over her shoulder. The Slytherins howled with laughter and several Gryffindors broke into spontaneous applause, but most were too miserable to notice.

George sat on one side of Edward and Fred squeezed in on the other. "If you didn't have a part in this, Edward, then you won't mind sharing these with the Slytherins." Fred dumped a pile of mints on the table. "These are Dragon Breath Mints: the original red fire version. They don't have to stay as mints." Fred leaned close to Edward's left shoulder. "They also work as tiny--"

"Little," said George as he leaned over the other shoulder.

"Sprinkles--of crushed powder," continued Fred.

George scratched an ear. "Gosh, I'm itchy. Do you think these ears have fleas?"

Fred shrugged. "This is war," he said. "Gryffindor vs. Slytherin."

===

It was late by the time they got back to the common room from Madam Pomfrey. They were all tired and cranky and the last thing they felt like doing is studying.

"We've got to practice holding our wands though," said Harry, "even if we don't get the other homework done. And I'd appreciate someone double checking my sleeping net parchment for spelling errors."

"What I wouldn't do for a spellchecker," said Samara.

"A what?" asked Ron.

"Muggle word processing program," replied Samara.

Ron looked at her blankly.

"Did you know that for the last ten years, Snape's classes have had the highest pass rate?" Hermione asked.

"I don't believe it," said Ron, stifling a yawn.

"Who cares?" muttered Samara, as she threw her feet over the armrest of the chair and leaned back, closing her eyes.

"Nonetheless," said Hermione, "it's true. In fact, no one has ever failed their OWLS in his subject."

"Great," said Neville, "I'll probably get to be the first and spoil his perfect record."

"All I'm saying," continued Hermione, "is that we probably won't have to know half of this for the OWLS. Snape makes the class so hard that when you get to the OWLS it seems easy."

"Hermione," said Harry, "this has nothing to do with OWLS. This has to do with survival. Now, try to take my wand."

"Expelliarmus!" said Hermione, and Harry's wand lurched out of his hand and flew to Hermione's.

"Hey," exclaimed Neville, "Snape couldn't take your wand, but Hermione did!"

"Hi," said Edward coming through the portrait hole with Lou and Beatrice. "Still working on DADA?" he asked. Beatrice and Lou said hello and continued on their way to the dorms. Edward settled himself in an overstuffed chair.

"No, just started," said Harry. "I'm so tired. Do you think there was some sleeping potion in what Madam Pomfrey gave us?"

"Maybe," said Ron, with another yawn. "Hey Edward, try to take my wand."

"Expelliarmus!" said Edward, but the wand stayed firmly planted in Ron's hand.

"Great," said Ron. "I got it."

"Expelliarmus!" said Hermione, and Ron's wand flew to her hand.

"Show off," muttered Ron as Hermione gave back Ron and Harry's wands.

"I don't think it has to do with how well I did the spell," said Hermione. "I think it has to do with how well we know and trust one another." Hermione directed the Expelliarmus at Edward and then Samara. They both held on to their wands, even though Samara awoke from dozing on the chair to do it.

"Intent is everything," said Samara, rubbing her eyes.

"Speaking of intent," said Ron, "thanks for the payback to Malfoy at dinner. I don't know how you did that without getting caught." Ron continued to tell her about his broken wand in second year and how his own spell had backfired, causing him to spit up slugs for an hour.

"As far as not getting caught," said Samara, "my wand is pretty short and it fits up my sleeve easily."

"What about 'swish and flick'?" asked Ginny. "We didn't see any movement."

"You don't 'swish and flick' a curse," said Samara. "It's 'aim and fire' and the steadier you hold your hand, the more control you have. From what I've read, some of the more intense curses have a kick and holding the wand as still as--is--is important--" Her voice dwindled into silence.

Everyone had gotten very quiet except for Neville, who was sound asleep and snoring on the corner sofa. "Samara," said Hermione, "how do you know that?"

"It's in my book: Current Achievements in Modern Dark Magic."

"What!" Everyone was awake now.

"That's your book!" said Harry. "The one you found when you were eleven?"

"And in a Muggle book shop?" asked Ron. "Oh man, my Dad has to get his department to step it up a notch!"

"It was in a pile of books on occult and Satanism."

"And you were looking through this pile?" squeaked Harry. "At age eleven?!"

Samara shrugged. "My town is a tourist attraction," she said. "There are all kinds of Occult books and artifacts. Some people say it's the curse of the Haunted Mansion."

They were all looking at her in horror.

"Is there something wrong?" Samara asked confusedly.

"Well, it's Dark Magic," said Hermione.

"I know," said Samara, "but I didn't have a lot of choices. Like I said, there wasn't anything else in the bookstore. Anyway, I haven't even gone all the way through it yet. Some of it is impossibly complicated, but like Snape has said, and the book emphasizes: the spell is always based on the caster's intent, so as long as I'm not INTENDING anything Dark, it's ok."

"Oh Samara," breathed Ginny, "it's not that simple."

"Well, there are some of the spells that I'd never try. I'm not that stupid, and most of it is history and laws and things anyway. The spells are only examples. It's not like there's an index of hexes."

Samara looked around at her classmates. They were all silent and tense.

"Come on, it's just a book."

"Um, Samara," said Edward, "Does this book ever--um--speak to you?"

"Speak? You mean like, some parts really touch me, and I like it--"

"No," said Edward, "I mean speak. It talks. You listen."

"Or change its writing," added Ginny.

Samara burst out laughing. "No. You guys are such a bunch of practical jokers. Books don't--"

"Samara," said Harry, grasping her shoulders. "Look at me. Really, look at me." Harry willed himself to project total sincerity. He didn't know if it would show in his aura or if Samara would see it, but he wanted her to know that they were not joking. They were concerned for her. "Do I look like I'm joking?" He said. "Do any of us look like we're joking?" He was sure she understood what he was asking.

"No."

"Ok, will you do us all a favor, Samara, and not open the book again until we can have a look at it together?"

"I've had it since I was eleven."

"Please... Please Samara."

Samara nodded. "Alright," she said, annoyed. "But you're going to have to look at it soon. I need it for class on Friday."

"What class?" asked Ron.

"Advanced History of Magic," said Samara. "That's why I took the class. I wanted to understand more about my book." She yawned. "You know what? I'm really tired. I'm going to bed."

After Samara left, the remaining Gryffindors seemed to take a moment to recover themselves.

"I want to see that book," Harry blurted.

"Me too," said Edward.

"It can't be that bad," said Hermione. "I know it sounds bad, but if she's had it since she was eleven and read a lot of it, how bad can it be? If it was that Dark, well, she wouldn't be here now."

Ginny stood up. "I think I'm going to bed too," she said. "Maybe I can talk to her."

"Gin, you don't have to," said Ron. "We'll do it together."

"I know I don't have to," said Ginny, "But maybe this is why I stood up for her--why she's my little sister. I can tell her things--about books--that no one else can."

"Ginny." Ron stood up and gave his sister a hug. Harry couldn't see auras, but he was sure that Ron wanted feed his sister the same kind of strength that Samara had fed him last night. "Be careful," he said. "And don't touch the book, ok"

"Gawd No!"

Ginny headed up to the girl's dorm.

===

When she got there, Samara was already in bed, reading a book. Parvati and Lavender weren't there. Probably they had found some quiet spot with Dean and Seamus and would come creeping in later that night. Ginny did not know if the book Samara was reading was THE book or not. She didn't ask. Instead, she got ready for bed herself and with a quiet sigh, picked up her own book: Transfiguration. She started to read the assignment.

How an animagus differs from Human transfiguration:

An animagus is a complicated magic, which forms a template within the human's very DNA. Once the template is formed, actually completing the magic is simple. In fact, it is so simple that those with newly acquired animagus skills often cannot control the transformation and certain emotions trigger it automatically. That is one of the reasons why animagi must be registered with the Ministry of Magic, especially dangerous animagi. Anamagi who cannot be taught to control their transformation may benefit from a stay in a Hospital facility to correctly separate the human and animal entity, although the most beneficial teaching situation is usually to apprentice to another animagi.

Prey-predator situations between teacher and student respectively, usually elicit the fastest, though most traumatic learning curves.

I guess it would, thought Ginny. She shuddered. It was one thing to have a class with a teacher who was strict like Snape or McGonagall. It was quite another to know that your teacher could literally EAT you if they lost control.

"Did you read the Transfig homework?" Ginny asked Samara.

"Hmmmm? Most of it," Samara answered without looking up from her book. "Ron said do the DADA first, and I ran out of time."

Ginny continued reading the Transfiguration.

Rarely do these animagi prove dangerous as they mature. In predator-predator situations it is helpful if a fully aware, human form wizard observe the sessions. To insure safety of both the teacher and the student, he should be armed with wand at all times and be ready to deflect any vicious attacks before the student unintentionally hurts his teacher. Dangerous animagi are tested under rigorous situations to insure that the transformation is under control. Wizards are at all times legally and morally responsible for any loss of property or life while in their animagus form. Wizards who attempt this spell without proper guidance can be severely fined, punished, or both.

"Samara," said Ginny. "Have you ever thought about what sort of animal you might be if you can do the animagus transformation?"

"Not really," said Samara. "I like all kinds of animals. Any would be ok, I guess." She put her book down, thinking now. "No, I guess that isn't true. I wouldn't like to be a predator, at least not a big predator. If I ever got stuck as my animal, I wouldn't want to kill things like deer or antelope to survive. It would be ok to kill rats or snakes or something like that I guess."

"I know what you mean," said Ginny. "I'd never want to do that either." She paused and then pushed bravely on. "I killed roosters--four, maybe five of them--I don't know for sure."

"What?" Samara was looking at her like she had lost her mind. Maybe she had, but supposedly they put it back together at St. Mungo's.

"First year, I woke up with feathers in my bed and blood all over me. I never could figure out how I got so much blood on me. I wasn't cut, just a few scratches, and the roosters were strangled." Ginny took a deep breath. "It was because of a book, Samara. I opened a book and started to do what it wanted, instead of what I wanted."

There was a long silence.

"That explains the murkiness," Samara said.

It was Ginny's turn to be confused. "What?"

"I've been able to see auras since I was very little. I don't ever remember not seeing them. Sometimes they are very clear, I can almost see through them, like your brother Ron's. Sometimes they shine, like Professor Dumbledore's, and sometimes they are murky like yours..."

"I knew he wasn't really gone," whispered Ginny, silent tears started to roll down her cheeks.

Samara got off of her bed and moved over to sit next to Ginny. She put her arm around Ginny. "Can I help?" she asked. Everything about Samara seemed to exude helpfulness, but mixed in was a healthy dose of curiosity.

Ginny shook her head. She wasn't going to tell Samara that St. Mungo's couldn't help, so it was doubtful that she could. She didn't want Samara to know that she was ever in St. Mungo's. She didn't want anyone to know.

Samara was just holding her, like her mother did when she had first come home after the Chamber of Secrets changed her life forever. After Tom. She had wanted to hate him. She had felt filthy. Raped. But Mom and Dad and all of her brothers still loved her. She had not felt safe here at Hogwarts --not ever--until now, with Samara holding her. Suddenly, there was something different about Samara. The comfort was still there, but so were Samara's questions--questions Ginny had no intention of answering. She had locked that little piece of Tom far away inside of her. Even at St. Mungo's they said they couldn't get it out without tearing her apart. It seemed he was part of her now. Forever.

Samara sat back and looked at her. "When I was in preschool," she said, "my teachers always wanted me to draw people right."

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny.

"Oh, sometimes I drew them purple and sometimes they were blue--I remember once I drew my teacher all surrounded by black. I didn't know, but her father very ill. She was--angry about it--that no one could make him better. In fact, she went home that day, and he died the very next day. She wasn't happy with me. None of them ever were. I thought when I came to Hogwarts, everyone would understand, but even here there are prejudices against someone who's different, isn't there?"

"Do you mean my differences or yours?" Ginny asked wryly.

"Both," Samara said with a smile. "I'm supposed to forget about the colors and you're supposed to forget about the darkness. Then we won't be different."

"Darkness," Ginny frowned. She didn't like Tom described that way. "Who else?" Ginny asked. "Does anyone else have this darkness that you can see?"

"I don't think I should tell you that, Ginny. It's not fair to them."

"Harry Potter?"

Samara frowned. "How did you know?"

Ginny shrugged.

"Any way, he still has the murkiness--like yours--but I filled the holes."

"Holes? From what?"

"I don't know." Samara paused. "He loves you, you know."

"Ha!" Ginny threw a pillow at her. "You're getting like Trelawney now: making predictions, and wrong ones at that! He just sees me as his best friend's kid sister. He may worry about me, but it's just like another brother, and believe me, I've got enough of those."

"I have three brothers, too--" Samara began, "and they're all older than me."

"No," said Ginny, "I don't have three brothers, I have six brothers!"

"Six! It's a wonder you're still alive. No wonder there's murkiness in your aura." She teased.

"It's not them," said Ginny suddenly, defending them violently. "It was the book, Samara. It was a diary. Voldemort's diary. Never my brothers! My brothers love me."

"I know," said Samara softly. "I know it wasn't your brothers. I was just teasing."

"Never tease about that," said Ginny sharply.

Samara bit her lip. "I wish I could help you, but I can't. I don't know how."

"It's ok. I've lived with it for three years now. But we all wanted you to know, that the murkiness you see is because I opened the wrong book."

Samara nodded and moved to her bed to get The Book. "I want you to see it," she said. Samara flopped back on Ginny's bed and opened it. Ginny scooted back involuntarily.

"Look," said Samara, "it's got a lot of history and laws about spells, but not that many spells. It says a lot about how different kinds of Magics work. The Druids used the Earth magic. This was considered light magic, until a couple of church people started to brand all magic as dark. There's some speculation in our other history of magic book that those church people weren't good at all. They were some of Salazar Slytherin's Squibs."

"Squibs?" began Ginny, but Samara was rushing forward with her explanation.

"It's confusing," she said, "but it all starts with the Elementals: Fire, Wind, Water and Earth. Earth was usually light and Fire was usually dark. Wind and water could go either way, but at some points Fire could be used for good and Earth could be used for evil. From what I read, originally light magic is described as drawing from growing things like the Earth or forest or something like that. Dark magic is drawing from things that are powerful in their own right, like fire, storms or waterfalls or wind, but later wizards found out it all boils down to intent, not the source of the magic."

"I don't think I understand," said Ginny.

"Well, if you draw from the Earth, and then you send the excess back into the Earth, it causes more growth and good things. If you draw from say a rainstorm and then you send the excess back into the rain, you might create a flood or a hurricane depending upon your own power."

"Where do wands come in?" asked Ginny. "I always thought that wandless magic was dark and magic with a wand is light."

Samara smiled. "A lot of people believe that. The idea that Dark Magic is wandless magic came about a long time ago. But remember, at first, no one used wands. Then, because wizards couldn't always release the power properly, the power corrupted them. They were called Dark. I can't find any real reason why they continued to use the power even when they realized they were losing some part of themselves, but all of them did. It seems like the magic itself was some how addictive.

"Finally, someone thought of the idea to make a wand to funnel the power. Before that, wizards used wands that they found at sites of great magical events. These usually enhanced the wizard's power; however, the wizard was often spared the degradation caused by using large amounts of power. Much later, wizards started to use wands not to enhance the power of the wizard, but to protect them.

"Actually, it's nearly impossible to draw from the Earth or any elemental and force it through a wand. It will shatter the wand. The wand is to conduct the energy from the wizard's own core self."

"That's why wand cores are so important," said Ginny.

"I suppose so," said Samara. "The old wands didn't really work that way. They didn't have cores at all, so I don't know how that affects the power, but in the case of drawing from an elemental, the wizard himself is the conduit, like the wand. Of course, no matter what kind of power you draw from Elementals, you must release. If a wizard's body is not strong enough to handle the power he pulls into himself, you can see it will destroy him, just like the shattered wand, or more likely, turn him into something not quite human--thus the whole idea of dark magic and demons.

"The power works like electricity. Oh, that's a Muggle concept, you probably won't understand."

"No, it's ok. I um, had a--um--friend first year who grew up with Muggles. We--He told me a lot. And then, there's Harry. He was raised by Muggles too."

"I don't remember you telling me about this 'friend' before--" said Samara. "Are you sure he was just a friend? Your aura is saying he was something more."

"Just a--" Ginny closed her mouth over the words. "He was not important," she insisted.

"I see," said Samara, studying her, but Ginny could tell by the twinkle in her eyes that she had certainly misunderstood. Samara waited, as if for a fuller explanation, but Ginny didn't want to tell her any more about Tom.

"It wasn't anything like that--" Ginny protested. She could feel herself getting warm. Why did she have to blush? She hated her pale skin that let everyone know her feelings not that it made much difference to Samara who saw auras. "I was eleven!" Ginny burst out, but she continued to blush. Even if she did tell Samara about Tom, she wasn't going to tell her about her foolish eleven-year-old fantasies about Harry Potter--nor Tom's sixteen-year-old embellishments of her fantasies. She suddenly shivered.

"Electricity," Ginny reminded Samara. "We were talking about the similarity between magical power and electricity."

"Ok," said Samara. "Electricity travels constantly in what is called a circuit. If it is interrupted by certain substances, it is absorbed. Other substances conduct it. Human tissue is not strong enough for the electricity to travel through with any real forces. It can be an uncomfortable shock, like a Stunning spell, or, if there is a lot of it, it can even kill, pretty much the same way as the Killing Curse works if I'm not mistaken.

"Anyway, Muggles can hold electricity in their hand if it is running through a wire, encased in a cord. A wand is used as either a conduit or a lightening rod. It channels the power or grounds it and forces the excess back usually into the earth. The wood protects you and the core conducts the magical power. That's why if your wand is wrong for you, there's usually an overflow of power. Wizards get a headache or just generally feel sick if their wand doesn't fit them. It's like trying to use certain crystals or Elven or Druid magic without proper wards."

"You got all this from your book?" asked Ginny, finally picking up the book and leafing through it.

"Yes--well not the electricity part--I got that from Science class," said Samara. "You see, I had to know something about magic and this was all I could find. I see magic everywhere, Ginny. The whole world was surrounded by magic and everyone--well, Muggles--were telling me I was imagining it. I had to have this book. Dark or Light, it didn't matter."

Ginny nodded. "What happened here?" She stopped at a page that had some sort of stain on it. The words on several pages were completely eaten away.

"I don't know," said Samara. "It was like that when I got it. I guess someone tried to press some sort of flower or herb in the book and it was rather toxic, or maybe they just left it in there so long it rotted and ruined the pages. There was nothing but dust in the book on that page."

"So what did you do with the dust?" asked Ginny. "If it ate away the pages, it must have been pretty powerful stuff. You couldn't just through it in some Muggle's trash can, could you?"

"Oh no," cried Samara. "It was powerful magic!"

"And?"

"Well, I'm not positive what it was," Samara said, uncertainly. "A plant or animal or half way in between, but it was definitely magic."

"And?"

"I read that the Druids looked for some powerful magic. Sometimes it took them years. I didn't have years to look."

Ginny just looked at Samara.

"And the book did have a spell--"

"You just told me how few actual spells were in this book," said Ginny, "and now you are telling me you used an unknown magical substance in a spell that you got from a Dark Book. Samara," Ginny shouted, "are you crazy?"

"It was just one spell. I had to. My wand was a joke. I was walking around waving this piece of oak, and then of ash, and then a piece of yew--which was a little bit better, but still not right. And then, there was Katelyn McCormick. She was so annoying. You have no idea."

"A person?" Ginny was practically squeaking with anxiety. "You cast a spell on a person with this wand with an unknown magical substance--"

"It was nothing that bad. I just made her break out. What's a few pimples? Well, maybe more than a few. I think she's still using heavy duty cleanser and going to a dermatologist, but I'm sure it would have cleared up as soon as she got out of her teen years."

Ginny was looking at Samara in horror.

"Oh come on, Ginny. Everyone expects pimples when they hit puberty. It's an automatic for Muggles, even for some wizards I hear"

"You didn't curse her nose off, did you?" asked Ginny anxiously.

"No," said Samara laughing. "But I should have. Her nose was always in someone else's business. I think someone might have noticed that though." Samara paused frowning. "Who got their nose cursed off?"

"Eloise Midgen. She was trying to get rid of her acne."

Samara sat silently on the bed for a few moments as Ginny continued to stare at her in horror. "Ok," she continued, "it was stupid to curse her, but the wand worked, and no harm done, really. Except that it was much more powerful than I expected. I even cleared up Katelyn's acne before I left for Hogwarts. She thinks the latest medicine is finally working. I wanted to leave with a clean slate, you know. And Ginny, this is going to sound really weird--"

"Go ahead," said Ginny resignedly, "I really haven't had my quota of 'weird' for the day yet."

Samara started to giggle. "Ginny, you're such a good friend. I'm glad I met you. Anyway, stop worrying so much. I think whatever the dust was in the book--I think it was good."

"How on earth did you come up with that idea?"

"The fellow who owned the book before me wrote these little doodles in the margins. He called it 'Nirena' or sometimes, 'My Rena' like it was a pet or something. That's why I thought maybe it was some sort of sentient plant, and not just a leaf. It doesn't look like hair. If you look closely, you can see the veins imprinted on the page so it must have been a plant, and I've had the dust in my wand for a few months now. I haven't exploded or anything."

Ginny looked closely at the imprints. It didn't look like any plant she recognized, but then she hardly had vast experience. Maybe Hermione would recognize it. "Well, I understand," said Ginny. "So this dust replaces your wand core then, but you were still taking chances--"

"Yeah, well," said Samara, "as far as I can see, taking chances is part of being Gryffindor. Don't tell me you've never taken chances."

"No," said Ginny with a sigh. The thought of Tom came unbidden to her mind. It was strange how she could still picture his face, the way he had drawn it in his diary. It was stranger still that, although she knew who he really was, she still thought of him as incredibly handsome. "I've taken a lot of chances. More than I should have, but this year, I'm hoping to remedy that." Ginny leaned across the bed and grasped Samara's hand. "Promise you won't tell anyone, if I tell you something?"

"Sure--no wait--I can't keep my mouth shut," said Samara. "You'd better not tell me, if it's really a secret."

Ginny considered. "It will be out by Friday anyway," she said, "because that's when we have our first Advanced Classes. I might as well tell you," she paused for emphasis. "I'm taking Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts--with Snape. Truthfully, if I had known that Snape was teaching it, I don't know if I would have taken it, but it's done now."

"Cool," said Samara. "Why is this a secret?"

Ginny thought about how easily she had been sucked into the diary with Tom. "I think that part is a secret," said Ginny. "That and the fact that my brothers will have a fit when they hear."

"And do you care?" asked Samara. "It's your life, isn't it?"

"Yes. It is. Expelliarmus!"

Samara's wand jumped from the bedside table, but before it made it to Ginny's hand, it reversed directions and sped back to Samara's waiting hand.

"Expelliarmus!" Samara cried, and Ginny grabbed for her wand before it could leave her pocket, and she kept it in her hand.

"I think I'm ready for Snape," Ginny said with a wry smile.

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