From Far Away

"Put me on and don't be shy

I'll tell you where you'll be and why:

You could be loyal Hufflepuff

Never violent or rough,

But steadfast, friendly - always kind

Ready to keep friends in line

You could be cunning Slytherin

You're always prepared to win

Persistence and craftiness

With a flair that helps impress

You could be clever Ravenclaw,

Who never pause to make a flaw,

Aptitude for every fact

Always accurate and exact

Or you'd be brave Gryffindor,

They have pride you can't ignore

Gallantry and Friendship last

When you're in this final class

I'll look inside your heart and mind

And find out which are best your kind

So just sit back and leave to me

The house that you were made to be,"

Everyone clapped at the finish of the Sorting Hat's song. Harry smiled at the sheer terror of some of the first years, remembering his own horrified demeanor back then. Harry looked at Hermione and Ron, feeling happiness for having them been there for him ever since the first train ride to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Hermione seemed a bit out of it ever since they'd first gotten off of the train, but Harry dismissed it now that the food had arrived. Brett Thomson, Luke Smith, Rene Calvin, and many other first years were now celebrating their arrival to the Gryffindor table. Harry didn't pay much attention to the new comers, but rather he ate his food appreciatively until the buttons on his trousers seemed ready to give out.

"First years, follow your house prefects, they will show you to your correct common rooms and give you the right passwords," Dumbledore raised his voice against the rumble of excitement.

Harry turned around and smacked into somebody. He quickly regained his balance, but the grimace of pain turned into a grimace of hatred as Malfoy gave his customary "Watch it Potter,"

Malfoy stalked away importantly. Harry noticed that he was going the opposite way of everyone else, but paid no attention since Hermione and Ron were pulling him forward; they were lagging behind.

Once they reached the common room, Harry couldn't help but smile. This was his home.

This was where he belonged.

*

Emily sat patiently in the Headmaster's office. There was a tray of food nearby, but Emily wasn't hungry at all - she never seemed to be anymore. That wasn't to say that she was skinny; when she did eat, most people cowered from her vehemence. Mostly she liked tea - it calmed her and it was sweet.

The door behind her opened and two people walked in. One of the people had a long, white beard and half-moon spectacles that rested on his rather large nose. The other boy was a student. He had crisp, platinum-blond hair and a rather nasty looking snarl on his face. The boy invited himself into the other chair that rested in front of the Headmaster's desk and he slouched sloppily.

"Miss Hamilton, I'd like you to meet Mr. Malfoy; he will be your guide for your stay," Professor Dumbledore said conversationally. Emily eyed Mr. Malfoy critically.

"Guide?" Malfoy asked in disgust.

"You are not to let Miss Hamilton out of your sight and you are to show her around," Dumbledore instructed kindly but firmly.

"Not to let her out of my sight? Is she even Slytherin? What's wrong with her?" This boy was much too nosy for his own good, "Why can't you get a girl?"

"Miss Parkinson will be arriving a couple of days late, but you two will share the responsibility when she arrives,"

"And she needs a protector because . . .?"

"Your job is simply to watch over her - to show her around. Help her meet a few friends. Assist her in making Hogwarts feel like home to her,"

"Professor," Emily spoke for the first time with a hopeful tone, "If he doesn't want to, he needn't - I can wait a few days until-"

"Miss Hamilton," The Headmaster cut her off with a stern, concerned voice, "If it wasn't needed, I wouldn't bother,"

"But sir, I think I'm old enough-"

"To get someone hurt if you don't go to your dormitory and take this," Dumbledore handed her a vial of gold liquid and Emily blushed. She stood obediently and snatched the potion.

Malfoy followed her out and down the spiral staircase.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked bluntly. He was extremely tactless, Emily noticed.

"Nothing," Emily said, still childishly pouting. The angrier she felt, the faster her heart beat.

"Fine then, the entrance is around that corner, the password is 'serpentine', I hope you can excuse me; I'm off to the Astronomy - er - the library," and he abruptly turned and left.

Emily walked slowly to where he pointed, thinking about her new school. She became increasingly livid with every moment. The ministry had dropped her off at the train station with no one to escort her. There were no empty compartments on the stupid train. They made her leave Ruby on the train to be taken to her dormitory. The new headmaster thought she was some sort of impediment.

She hadn't realized how worked up she'd been getting and she fell to her knees suddenly as the legs beneath her buckled. Her heart was zooming dangerously in her chest.

Emily had a heart problem; if she got overexcited, her heart sped severely and her body couldn't habituate to such a sudden change. It was a common muggle problem, especially for young children and elders, but no potion could seem to calm the severity of her case except a mildly heavy sleeping potion. It didn't lull her to sleep, but it slowed down her senses and calmed her.

The more she thought of her problem, however, the more she became angry with herself. The vial still rested in her hands, but Emily convinced herself that she didn't need it. By the time she realized that she did, the container had crashed to the ground and so had she.

*

Hermione was acting strange indeed, Ron thought to himself. Rather that going straight away to unpack her belongings, she had joined rather generously into the festivities. No one seemed to care, they figured that she'd either loosened up over the summer or she was just really happy to be back.

Still, the gash on her forehead stood out like a scarlet scarf among the black, and yet no one had gotten the clue.

Her hair was shorter now; she said that she'd cut it over the summer due to the care that had previously been put into it. It was still to her shoulders, though and it bounced more freely as she joyously visited all of her old friends.

Ron stopped looking at Hermione and walked over to the snack table. Professor McGonagall stood nearby, chatting with some of the seventh years nostalgically. Ron took a couple of the Honeyduke's chocolate bites that rested on the table and joined back into the game of exploding snap. However, it was half-past eleven - thirty minutes past their curfew (as Professor McGonagall sternly noted) and they soon had to retire. Hermione wished Ron and Harry a pleasant sleep and applied a small kiss to each of their foreheads before heading to the girls' dormitories. A spark shot from her wand as she headed up the stairs, but no one took notice; Hermione was always practicing spells.

Ron had pulled out his pajamas and was about to put them on, when a shrill scream came from the girls' dormitories. Ron and his roommates paused and ran down (most of them only half-dressed) to see what the havoc was all about. Parvoti and Lavender (of course) were in the middle of the ruckus screaming about a boy having been in their bedroom.

Hermione suddenly came down the steps and announced that there were no boys in their dorms. She was holding a glass - probably of water - and she finished the cup nonchalantly looking at the girls with a tired face.

"But he was right there - right next to your bed, Hermione!" Lavender insisted to the slowly departing crowd. Professor McGonagall hushed the latter and urged the girls to go back into their rooms.

Yes, it was great to be back.

*

Emily awoke to a bellow of scorn. It didn't take long to realize that the bellow was half directed at Emily herself.

"You had the potion in your hands!" Dumbledore scolded then looked toward another pale face. Malfoy had a flush of guilt on his cheeks and a submissive eye contact arranged, "And you left after I specifically told you not to!"

"I didn't know! She said-"

"Yes and I said that you needed to stay with her!"

Emily turned onto her stomach in the hospital bed and covered her ears with the pillow.

"You, young lady, are lucky that someone found you almost right after your attack!" The Headmaster stated heatedly, referring to the heart attack (though it was really much milder that a regular heart attack).

Madam Pomfrey made Emily take a sedation medicine and sent her and Malfoy on their way. Dumbledore had calmed his voice, though his eyes still shone intensely.

"I only hope that Miss Parkinson can do better," he mumbled.

Malfoy still didn't realize why he was so upset; a lot of students had misfortunes thrust upon them - what made plain Hamilton so special? He looked at her. No distinguishing features except for the dark circles under her dark eyes. Her hair was a dark brown that reached to her shoulders - average length. She wore the regular vest and knee-length skirt and robe that was customary for the uniform. Her hands seemed more aged than average and he noticed a glimpse of a small scar on her left hand.

"What are you looking at?" Emily was suddenly aware of his stares. She spoke slowly, which was understandable since she had just swallowed a sedation liquid.

"You," Malfoy answered truthfully.

Emily just stared at him critically, looking him up and down. Malfoy could almost see her mentally pointing out his flaws. She was rather short and it was slightly comical to see her with her chin high as if she were above him.

"You never answered my question from earlier: what's wrong with you?"

"Not-"

"Don't you dare say nothing," Malfoy lifted an eyebrow.

"Just . . . just a heart problem, if you will," Emily charged forward, embarrassed.

"That's the least of anyone's problems around here, you shouldn't be ashamed," Malfoy decided to go easy on her - she was, nevertheless, a Slytherin, "After all, we've got The-Boy-Who-Lived-but-didn't-actually-do-anything here," He pointed out sourly.

Emily sighed as they entered the common room. Professor Snape gave Emily a sheet that told her room number and a key that opened the bedside drawer. The drawer was filled with more potions, just in case.