Harry Potter and the Second Prophecy

Chapter 2 - A Whole New World

Harry Potter had been in the middle of freezing a batch of Gurgling Plimpsore roots to keep them from oozing their puss-filled wound-creating sap onto his fingers while preparing them for delivery to the Potions dungeon when he happened to look out of Greenhouse 2 toward the Forbidden Forest. At first he couldn't believe his eyes: a casually dressed girl was running toward the castle at full throttle, and she was being followed by...a werewolf?

He had only barely had time to process the oddity of a girl he'd never seen before wearing weekend clothes running from the forest, as well as the fact that she was being chased by a transformed werewolf not on the night of a full moon but in broad daylight, when he shouted his observation to Professor Sprout and lunged for the door. The entire class stood watching with horror as they saw the werewolf gain on the girl, and Hermione yelled after Harry and started to follow, but was held back by Ron, who figured his best friend knew what he was doing...whatever that was.

Harry had just left the greenhouse when suddenly the girl turned to face the werewolf and an electric blue light shot from her hands, knocking the werewolf away. He hesitated momentarily, startled by what he'd just witnessed, but then the werewolf was back on its feet again and redoubling its efforts to attack the mysterious girl. He surged forward again, but found that as the werewolf leapt at the young woman, intent on ending her life, she brought up her hands once more and effectively erected a shield around herself of the same blue light, keeping the beast from ripping her to shreds. He was half way to the girl, wand drawn, when the creature finally took note of him.

Harry fired his wand at the werewolf yelling "Expelliarmus!" and, as the creature had no weapon, it was itself thrown backyard from the girl. It raised its head briefly to stare at Harry with a pair of piercing red eyes, then turned and ran from the girl right back into the forest. Harry watched it go, still bewildered by the presence of a transformed werewolf in broad daylight, then turned his attentions to the young woman upon whom he'd closed in. He stared down at her, wondering what first to say, but she opened her mouth as though to speak, and then...fainted dead away.

Professor Sprout, Seamus Finnegan, and Ernie Macmillan were on Harry's heels, and were soon themselves staring down at the young lady Harry had rescued from the werewolf. "Good heavens! Did she faint? Only just now?" asked Professor Sprout, and without waiting for a response, she ordered Seamus to go immediately and notify Professor McGonagall of the young lady's arrival and that she would be in the hospital wing, Ernie to return to class and have the students finish preparing their Gurgling Plimpsores for the Potions master, and told Harry that he would be accompanying her and the girl to Madam Pomfrey's.

"I'm all right, Professor," Harry noted.

"I realize that, Mr. Potter," Professor Sprout returned, "but I'd like you to be present when Professor McGonagall reaches the hospital wing. You were nearest the event and can best explain what you saw." She then muttered "Mobilicorpus" and the girl's unconscious body raised itself from the ground and made its own way, under the direction of Professor Sprout's wand, to the hospital wing, gliding along in front of the teacher and her student.

Professor McGonagall arrived at the hospital wing with Professor Dumbledore, whom she had notified immediately upon hearing Seamus's message, moments after Harry and Professor Sprout had themselves entered. Madam Pomfrey was already busying herself around the girl's bedside, propping her comfortably on some self-fluffing pillows and pulling a set of wispy white curtains around the bed to shield her from others' views. Harry had not even had time to relate to Madam Pomfrey the reason for the girl's having fainted when he was joined by both the Headmaster and the Head of his House.

Madam Pomfrey began the questioning. "Now, just who is this young lady?" she asked.

"Go ahead, Mr. Potter," prodded Sprout. "Tell them what happened."

"Yes, Professor," he replied, and began to recount the story of his chance glance out of Greenhouse 2, the realization that an unknown girl was being chased by a werewolf in broad daylight, the odd phenomenon of blue light being emitted by the hands of the young woman, and finally her having passed out, when McGonagall interrupted.

"Surely she said something to you before she fainted, Potter?"

"Nothing, Professor. Not a word."

"So very strange." McGonagall turned to Pomfrey. "Poppy, has she anything on her person that might tell you who she is?"

"Hadn't the time to check yet," countered Pomfrey, and with that, she waved her wand over the girl, muttering an incantation under her breath. Immediately a coin purse, a train ticket, and a slip of parchment flew from the girl's pockets, flitted briefly through the air, and landed in Dumbledore's outstretched palm. He tilted his head slightly in her direction as though to thank her, and proceeded with his search.

The coin purse contained both English Muggle pounds and American Muggle dollars, as well as coins from each currency. The ticket was for a train scheduled to leave approximately 15 minutes earlier, heading toward Northumberland. It was the parchment that most troubled Dumbledore, however. It had been folded in half, and the front of the parchment addressed itself to one Camilia Pritchard, apparently a witch, her location specified as the hospital wing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The paper, when unfolded, contained three words:

You are She.

He neatly folded the parchment back in half, then in half once more, and in half one final time, and slipped it into his robes.

"Poppy, what do you have that might bring her 'round?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well," ventured Pomfrey, "as it seems her faint was brought on by fear rather than jinx, perhaps..." Her voice trailed away as she wandered to her stores of potions and bindings. She returned a moment later with a small white stick smelling strongly of the Muggle cleaning fluid ammonia. "Not magnificent smelling, I must say, but it's an old Muggle remedy, and it is effective." Without further ado, Pomfrey placed the stick directly under the nose of the young lady who, after what appeared to be no more than two breaths, jolted awake. Her eyes flew open and she frantically searched the space around her, whether seeking the werewolf, giant spiders, or the young man who had saved her life, no one was certain. Then her eyes came to rest on Harry.

"I - you - you saved my life," she stammered.

"From what he tells me," interrupted Dumbledore, "you seemed to have been doing a fine job defending it yourself."

"I - I'm sorry?"

"Young Mr. Potter here tells us that you kept that werewolf at bay of your own accord thanks to some very powerful magic, am I right?" ventured Dumbledore.

"Werewolf? I'm sorry, did you say werewolf?" asked Camilia, and then came the flood of questions. "Who are you all? I am inside the castle? What's with the clothes? And what do you mean, magic?"

"I believe our young friend is confused, Minerva. Perhaps, my dear, we should start at the beginning. It seems that would be a far less puzzling thing to do, for all of us. My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am the Headmaster here at Hogwarts. This is Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, Professor Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff House, and Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse. I believe you have already met, however briefly, Mr. Harry Potter, a student here."

"Hello," added Harry.

"Uh, hi," said Camilia.

"May we have the pleasure of your name, my dear?" asked Dumbledore.

"Oh, yeah. Um, Camilia. Camilia Pritchard." As soon as her surname had left her lips, Dumbledore smiled sadly, and McGonagall spoke up.

"My apologies, child, I thought you'd said your name was Pritchard," she said.

Camilia looked baffled. "I did. It is. That is my last name."

McGonagall went instantly pale. "Professor Dumbledore, a word with you, if I may," she said stiffly.

"Excellent idea, Minerva. Perhaps you two ladies might wish to join us as well?" suggested Dumbledore, leaving, however, no room for argument. The three women followed Dumbledore across the ward, and Camilia appeared quite thrown by their sudden change in mood.

"Do you know what all that's about?" asked Camilia of Harry.

"Buggered if I know. Just a moment, then. I haven't really heard you speak until now. Are you...an American?" Harry inquired.

"Sure am. Born and bred. My great-great-great-and-then-some grandparents came over on the Mayflower or something." she noted, and then added, "I'm from Boston. Have you heard of it?"

"No, sorry," said Harry. "But I bet you've never heard of Little Whinging, am I right?"

"Correct. Not a clue where it is. Is that where you're from?"

"It is."

"Look, can you - can you tell me how I got here? And did that guy say he is a Headmaster? Of a school?"

"You haven't heard of Hogwarts?" asked Harry.

"No."

"But you can see it! You - you can do magic! How could you not know about Hogwarts?" argued Harry.

"Magic?"

"The blue...energy...light...whatever it was that came from your hands when you fought off that werewolf! What did you think that was?" Harry was now completely thrown.

"I don't know what that was. It's never happened before. I mean, sure, stuff has happened before when I'm scared like that, or pissed off or whatever, but not like that. And...werewolf? Those aren't real!" Camilia was beginning to feel a bit desperate. "Can you just please tell me what's going on here?"

Harry paused for a moment, and then launched into the best explanation he could come up with. He had himself not known of his magical heritage until he'd turned eleven, so he would probably have been the best option for one who could explain to Camilia the situation. He told her about Hogwarts being a school of witchcraft and wizardry, how non-magical folk, commonly referred to as Muggles, did not know about and could not see or get near to Hogwarts, how most magical individuals began their magical schooling at eleven and completed it when they came of age at seventeen, and explained in general terms what the Headmaster, Heads of Houses, Professors, and others employed by the school did.

"You know, that's a little hard to digest, I gotta tell ya," stammered Camilia.

Harry had remembered thinking the same thing at eleven, and imagined how much harder it would have been to learn about his magical heritage at a later age. "I'm sorry, you're - how old?" wondered Harry aloud.

"I turned sixteen a couple months ago."

"Really? So did I. When was your birthday?"

Camilia hesitated; she did not honestly know which day. She only knew that her parents had celebrated her third birthday around the beginning of July, shortly before they died. "July 12^th, I think."

"You beat me by two or three weeks, then," noted Harry.

The two sat in silence a moment, waiting on the other to continue the conversation, when Camilia finally opened her mouth to speak. "Can you show me some magic?" She was greeted by silence. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I don't think you're like a performing monkey or anything. I was just hoping you could show me - "

And before she knew it, Harry had his wand out, spouted something that again sounded Latin, and then she was hanging upside down in the air. She had the self control not to squeal, and just as quickly she was being gently laid back down on her bed, the sheet pulling itself up over her. To show she was unfazed, she finished her sentence. "-- that this isn't all some elaborate hoax." She paused. "Wow. Okay, so that was cool."

Harry smiled warmly. "Well, had I just summoned a bottle of some potion from across the room, you might have thought it was on strings."

"Indeed." They sat in silence once more.

When Camilia made as though to speak again, Harry beat her to the punch. "You want to know about werewolves."

"Yes. And giant spiders, and words that change by themselves, and purses that yank you out of train stations and land you in forests when you touch them! But most of all, I want to know what I did out on your lawn."

"I know about werewolves, and even giant spiders, but the others are beyond me. Hang on; are you telling me you encountered Acromantulas in the forest?" stammered Harry.

"Acro-what?" asked Camilia. "If that's what you call giant spiders, then, yes."

"How - how did you escape them?" he inquired.

"I really couldn't tell you. One minute they were chasing me, and the next minute they were gone."

"Did you see anyone else in the forest, perhaps? Someone who might have stopped them?"

"I was running too fast to notice," said Camilia sarcastically. "Sorry," she grumped.

Harry began, "It's just that they don't - and come to think of it, neither do - " He sat contemplating a moment, but it was too long a moment for Camilia.

"Are you going to finish your sentence?" she goaded.

"Sorry. The Acromantulas...they should have kept coming. And that werewolf; they only come out - only transform, even - during a full moon." Harry seemed to turn his remunerations inward. He paused, thinking, and then shaking his head, continued. "As for the handbag you spoke of, it must have been a portkey, but what a portkey was doing in London where you'd happen upon it, or why it would take you to the Forbidden Forest...it must have been a mistake. Left for someone else, I mean."

"It couldn't have been a mistake," suggested Camilia. "The paper in it had my name on it, and knew that I was in the Forbidden Forest. It even knew to tell me to run from the Amorturantulas and the werewolf."

It was this moment that Dumbledore chose to return, having left the three women at the other end of the ward. "What is sounds like to me," said Dumbledore, "and you will not understand much of this, but bear with me for a moment, my dear, is that you were placed in a position where you would inevitably find a portkey that would bring you here. Once the effects of the portkey wore off, you found the enchanted parchment. Someone knew who you were from the moment you arrived in King's Cross station. Before, even, since they'd have had to lay the trap for you. Perhaps they knew you were coming to England, or even arranged it for you so that you would come. And whoever it is, or whoever they are, more likely, it's also likely that they do not have your best interests at heart."

"Come again?" asked a bewildered Camilia.

"My dear girl, it seems we have much to discuss. Harry, if you would be so good as to return to your lessons, I believe I am fully capable of, shall we say, 'taking it from here'." And with that, he dismissed Harry with a wave of his hand.

Harry nodded, stole a final glance at Camilia, gave her a smile, sheepish smile and a slight shrug, and headed for the door. As he left the hospital wing, he thought to himself that he was grateful Dumbledore had said nothing about discussing his conversation with Camilia with his friends, because he had an awful lot to tell them.