Harry Potter and the Northern Star

Harry leaned against his knees, breathing raggedly. He and Sirius had run a few blocks away from Number 4 Privet Drive. Sirius stopped running, and walked near to where Harry stood, bent over, trying to catch his breath. Sirius transfigured back into a human, and he walked a few steps away, rummaging through a nearby shrub. He returned with a large sack in his hands, and in digging through it, his hand emerged with a small sandwich bag, containing a peanut butter sandwich.

"Harry, eat this. You'll need your strength," he said, offering up the sandwich.

Harry wasted no time, and snatched up the sandwich, devouring it quickly. Sirius looked down at Harry sadly.

"I should have gotten here sooner," he said, his voice heavy with remorse.

Harry swallowed the rest of the sandwich. "It wasn't your fault, nobody knew."

"Still," Sirius continued, sitting down on the sidewalk, "those Muggles are going to pay for what they've done, no doubt about that. I'll make sure that never happens again."

Harry looked up, hopeful. "Why can't I stay with you? It still isn't safe, is it?"

Sirius sighed. "I may have a full pardon, Harry, but a lot of people refuse to believe I'm innocent. There are wizards out there who are still hunting me, and I can't have you around if they catch me, you know that."

Harry nodded, sadly.

Sirius slapped his legs and stood up quickly. "Now, Harry, listen to me very carefully. I want you to take the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron, and I want you to set up a room there. I need you to stay there until I come for you again, do you understand?"

Harry nodded, and Sirius nodded to himself, assured.

"Alright, then it's settled. And I mean it, Harry. You go to the Leaky Cauldron, and no where else. Do not leave Diagon Alley while you're there, because I won't be able to find you if you need me. Clear?"

"Crystal," Harry said.

"Fine then." Sirius lifted his fingers to his lips and let out two whistles--one low and quiet, the last sharp, and as loud as a train. Harry heard a familiar horn honking in the distance, and with a blast of air that almost knocked Harry off of his feet, the Knight Bus slowed and came to a shuddering halt right in front of him. Harry turned to say goodbye, but noticed that his godfather was gone, replaced by a wagging dog tail in the distance. The squeak of the opening door brought Harry back to attention, and he found himself staring Stan Shunpike right in the eye. It had been a while, but Stan still looked the same, pimples and all.

It took Stan a minute to recognize him. "Blimey! It's you again! Neville... I mean, 'Arry Potter! What an honor to have you ridin' again wit us. Come on, up ya go," he said, offering a large hand to Harry. Harry took his hand and hoisted himself up the stairs to the bus.

Harry settled back on the small bed near the back of the bus, breathing in deeply. His stomach gurgled gratefully, having just been filled with rich, hot chocolate, courtesy of Stan. Stan and Ernie were willing to take Harry as far as he wanted, even for free. But Harry promised to pay them double for their trouble. Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes sleepily. Sleep like this was exactly what he needed. He put an arm over his eyes to block out the dull lights of the candles on the wall, and relaxed. Unconsciousness came swiftly, and Harry drifted off to sleep in a matter of moments.

The bus screeched to a halt, and with a gigantic BANG, began to shudder violently. Harry was jerked from his dreams, and in his sleepy stupor, fell off of the bed and whacked his head against the bedpost. As the bus stood still and the lights flared up, Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes and made a grab for his glasses. He picked himself off of the floor and sat down on the bed, ruefully massaging his sore forehead. Just as he was wondering what had happened, the door burst open. The driver of the bus, Ernie, came storming in, followed by Stan, who was carrying someone in his arms.

"Put 'er over here, Stanny," Ernie said, pointing to a bed to his left. Stan nodded, and lowered the girl in his arms onto the bed. A woman in a bright purple nightgown came stumbling down the stairs, asking in a groggy voice about what had just happened with the bus.

Stan rushed to the woman's side, ushering her up the stairs again. "Why, that was nothing, Mrs. Henship, jus' a bit 'o engine trouble, 'appens all the time... now, how about another cuppa 'ot chocolate, on the house..."

Ernie slapped a stack of bandages and a moist cloth at Harry. "Do me a favor, 'Arry. Patch 'er up a bit while I man the bus, there's a good lad. You could do with one yourself, by the way," he said, before rushing out the door to the driver's seat.

Harry stood still for a moment, not sure if what just happened was real. He looked at the girl on the bed, and inched forward to look. Her face was shielded by a wisp of copper hair, and Harry reached forward to brush it aside.

What he found made his heart stop.

He was looking down at what he thought was the most beautiful face he had ever seen. The girl below him had delicate features, like a china doll, and she was just as pale. Her cheekbones were sharply cut, and her eyelashes were long and lush. All of this was completed with a set of full lips, cherry pink and parted to expose pure white, even teeth. Harry couldn't speak, couldn't think; his eyes couldn't be torn away from the sight before him, until he saw the smear of blood on her forehead. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the wet cloth and dabbed gently at her wound. As the blood came away, Harry's breath caught in his throat again, only this time it was from shock.

The girl had a lightning shaped scar on her forehead.

Harry's heart began to beat faster, as if he were afraid. A rush of pain swept down his own scar, but before he could cry out, the feeling was replaced by a healing warmth that ran slowly down his body.

"Oh my god," he whispered.

The girl shivered suddenly, and began to make small crying sounds, as if locked in a terrible dream. Harry looked down at her, pressing the cool cloth to her forehead. But her movements became more frantic; her brow furrowed in fret and her eyes clenched tight.

"...mmm.... no... I won't let you do this...."

Harry couldn't do anything but watch.

"...no.... Voldemort...."

Harry's eyes leapt open wide at the sound of his name. He sprang away from the girl as she continued to speak in her dreams, her voice quickly turning into a scream.

"....regalio reflect....REGALIO REFLECT!.....oh God!!"

The girl snapped upright in the bed and screamed, her eyes locked shut in terror. The scar on her forehead began to burn, and smoke coiled from the bangs of her hair. The scar was glowing a bright green, and just as soon as it had started, the girl fell back onto the pillow, silent. The glow and the smoke was gone, and the room still rang from the echo of her screams.

The sound of thumping footsteps caught Harry's attention next, and he looked over to the stairs. Stan came walking in, wiping sweat from his brow.

"What's going on now, 'arry?" he asked, walking toward the girl. Harry thought fast, and walked to Stan, walking him up the stairs as Stan had done to the woman in the nightgown.

"Nothing really, but the driver told me to tell you that you need to stay up there and keep the passengers asleep, just in case."

Stan thought a moment, and Harry thought he could see through the lie. But then, Stan nodded. "Yeah, you're right, somebody needs to keep the people calm. Okay." Stan turned around and walked back up the stairs.

Harry looked back at the girl, his heart almost jumping out of his chest. His breath came in fearful gasps, as if he had just seen a hideous monster. He inched closer, and sat down carefully on the bed, hoping not to awaken the girl. She was motionless, except for the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Her face was no longer contorted in fear or pain; she slept silently.

The driver's door opened again, and Ernie came in, mopping his bald head with a handkerchief. Harry saw him, and with a deft motion of his hand, brushed the girl's bangs over her forehead, hiding the scar. Ernie didn't notice; he was too busy dragging a large trunk and a broomstick behind him. He slid the trunk under the girl's bed.

Ernie smiled at Harry and sat down on the opposite bed next to them. "Now you don't see that everyday," he said with a smile.

"Who is this?" Harry asked, perhaps a tad too earnestly, "What happened to the bus?"

"I dunno what happened to the bus, Harry. The bus don't stop like that for anybody, not even the Minister of Magic himself," Ernie wiped his forehead again. "I just heard somefing crash into the side of the bus, and when I stopped and got out to see, I see this girl lying by the bus wid this trunk and broom," he motioned under the bed, "and you could tell it was 'er that crashed into the bus. Gonna take 'er to the Leaky Cauldron, get 'er some medical help, too."

Ernie stood up, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out an envelope of thick yellow parchment, and Harry immediately recognized the Hogwarts stamp. "This one's 'eaded for 'Ogwarts this year, just like you," he said, handing the envelope to Harry. Harry turned it over, and saw the name in Hogwart's usual shimmering green ink:

Nerissa Polaris

The Danshon Street Orphanage

Last Room to the Left

London

Harry looked back up at Ernie. "She's an orphan," he said, trying to swallow the rest of his fear.

Ernie nodded sadly. "Aye. Poor little thing," he said, and he grabbed a bandage from Harry and moved in, brushing the hair off of Nerissa's head.

"No, don't!" Harry said, but it was too late. He looked down, and Harry's pulse jumped again when he realized the scar had disappeared. Ernie looked at him quizzically, then smiled.

"Kinda jumpy there, aren't we, 'Arry?" he laughed, and applied the bandage to Harry's head, where a large goose-egg had formed from his fall. Harry said nothing. He just looked down at the girl, this Nerissa Polaris, and wondering if he were going crazy or not.