No One You Know

No One You Know

Chapter One: Nightmares and Beginnings

She stood on an empty plain. Everything was grey, and there was no one and no thing there save for herself. She looked up, and the full moon was there, a startling white against the grey of the sky. She found herself transfixed by it- it was no ordinary moon. There were shifting patterns twisting in a spiral motion slowly against it that said something in runic letters- in her real life, she could not read runic symbols, but in her dreamworld, she could- and she was just about to decipher it, when it shattered- the moon shattered! She heard herself gasp, as if from very far away- a strangely muffled sound. The sky was turning red, as the fragments of moon slowly seemed to melt away. She couldn't breathe- the sky was burning- smoke- choking her!

Adela Evans sat up in bed, gasping, choking, as she tried to clear smoke from her lungs that wasn't there. She was breathing heavily, and sweat was pasting tendrils of dark hair to her forehead. She looked wildly around, and then her eyes darted towards the window, almost expecting- and fearing- that she would see a burning sky and a shattered moon. But no- the sky was its normal nighttime shade of deep, dark indigo, and the moon was neither full nor shattered- it was a half-moon, and unbroken.

She shook her head, as if to clear herself of all nightmarish influences, and her breathing slowed gradually. Adela distractedly pushed back her sweaty brunette hair, and muttered to herself, "Just a dream, just a dream," yet she could not sleep for several minutes afterwards.

She slipped out of bed. Her bare feet padded noiselessly across the hardwood floors of the hallway outside of her bedroom. She paused for a moment to look at the photograph of her aunt, all laughing green eyes, just like Adela's, and cascading red hair. Her aunt looked as though the smile was meant just for whoever was looking at the photograph at the time, and Adela felt instantly comforted by the feeling that her aunt was watching her now, loving her and protecting her, even though she had been less than a month old when Aunt Lily had died, in a tragic car accident.

Adela had always regretted that she never knew her aunt- she probably would have been a lively, fun person to be around, more like a girlfriend than an aunt. She wished for a moment, rather uncharitably, that it had been her aunt Petunia who had died instead. Adela had never met this aunt either, but she had heard stories from her mother all the same, and she was sure that she would not really want to meet her. But she shook her head. There was probably a very good reason why fate had decreed that Petunia lived while Lily had died, and it was no use regretting things that had already happened.

Adela went downstairs, remembering to skip over the step that creaked. Even in her somewhat thin pajama pants and tank top, she was still sweating- it was July, and ungodly hot. She went over to the refrigerator, and got out a piece of chocolate cake and a glass of milk. Normally, she wouldn't eat this much, but her appetite was uncharacteristically large tonight, for what reason she did not know. She sat down, suddenly feeling much more tired than she had before. The adrenaline that had surged through her system as a result of the nightmare was wearing off, and after she finished her snack, she lay down on the couch in her living room, covered herself with a blanket, and fell fast asleep.

*****

"Adela, sweetie. Wake up. Wake up, honey."

Her mother's voice cut through her sleep. Groggily, still almost unconscious, Adela raised her head. Rose Evans' face swam before her, looking anxious. Adela blinked once or twice, clearing her vision.

"When I went to check on you this morning, you weren't in you bed! You scared me half to death, Adela Marie! Honestly, if you had to come down and eat last night, couldn't you at least have made it up to your bed?"

Adela blinked again. "Erm- sorry," she said.

Her mother pressed her lips into a line. "Well, you'd better hurry up, you have to pick up a few things at the grocery store and I need them as soon as possible."

"Okay," said Adela. She got up slowly, feeling slightly dizzy and sick. She wondered why, and decided that it must have been the chocolate cake last night. She went upstairs and got dressed, pulling on a T-shirt and jeans, and tying a sweatshirt around her waist. She ran a brush through her hair, and pulled it back into a no-nonsense braid going down her back. She grabbed a breakfast cereal bar and her backpack, and took the public bus to the mall- she needed to pick up the latest installment of her favorite series, Young Passions. This latest one, entitled Luck of the Irish, was about a girl named Annabella Mackenzie Jones, who, after being captured by a group of very young and hot Irish terrorists and held in ransom, falls in love with one of them, Sean McKenna. They end up eloping to Greece and eking a rugged life out in the mountains, working in an orphanage, sustained only by their love and the occasional goat or two.

It was complete drivel, and Adela was a very sensible, no-nonsense person, not really one to read trashy teenage romance novels- but they comforted her somehow, maybe because everything always turned out okay in the end, and the hot guy that the heroine fell in love with was always sweet and nice as well as being dead sexy, a combination which Adela had not yet encountered. Hotties were almost always jerks.

She was walking in the food court when she heard it- "Well, well, well, if it isn't little Miss Fashion Emergency herself."

Shit. Tiffany, she thought. Tiffany Adams was one of the most popular girls in school- long, perfect blond hair, blue eyes, slender, etc. And like many popular people, she liked to torture those who were less fortunate than herself in the looks and popularity department. Her target had been Adela ever since Adela had beat Tiffany in the annual basketball game between the two teams at Dalton high (red and gold teams), last year.

Adela forced herself to keep walking, knowing that if she let Tiffany get to her, it would only mean that Tiffany had won.

"Yes girls," said Tiffany to her little posse of fellow cheerleaders who followed her everywhere and giggled hollowly at everything she said, "Adela here must be trying to get on one of those TV shows where there are girls so ugly that they need drastic plastic surgery to lead normal lives. Oh, wait- my mistake- she doesn't even have to try."

Adela finally just couldn't take her anymore. Turning, she said, "Wow, Tiffany- I'm surprised that you even have enough brains to think up a shitty insult like that." She paused, then said in a fake valley girl voice, "So, like, see ya, girlfriend!"

She waved cheekily, and turned away, but not before Tiffany said, apropos of nothing, "I see how you look at my boyfriend. Stay away from Scott." And she swept off with her posse.

Adela leaned against a nearby column, closing her eyes. What had she done to deserve this life? What had she done to deserve Tiffany?

Adela buried herself in her latest romance novel, sighing. There was no adventure in a life like hers, nor romance- just studying, reading romance novels, and feeling lonely. No one really that she wanted to be with for the rest of her life, no places to go, nothing to do- she felt utterly trapped in her boring life. What could she do? There was no place that she could go that would be any better, even temporarily. She shut her eyes again. She wanted to run away from everything and all she once was, and the only thing that kept her from doing so was her mother. And possibly Gareth.

Speaking of the devil... "Oy! Dela! Wake UP!" said a voice very close to her ear.

Adela's eyes flew open, and she said irritably, "Good lord, Gareth, did you have to SHRIEK at me?"

His mouth curved up into an amused smile. "Men don't shriek," he replied.

"You're not a man yet," retorted Adela. "Ergo, you shrieked."

He laughed. Gareth and Adela had been friends ever since either of them could remember- indeed, there were pictures of them in their high chairs together. Both of them had other friends, but they were closest to each other. They had briefly dated in middle school- well, it couldn't even really be called dating. It was one of those "relationships" that people had in middle school that lasted for about a week. Neither of them had ever been romantically inclined towards one another in any way since. They annoyed each other occasionally, but no one knew them like they knew each other.

Adela laughed much more easily around Gareth, and he was more balanced and quiet around her. They were like yin and yang- Adela was a quiet, sensible, shy introvert, while Gareth was loud, impetuous, outgoing and extroverted. She got good grades, but was considered nerdy and teased by the other students, his grades were terrible, but he was extremely popular, although something of a delinquent and a class clown. They fit each other perfectly.

"So," said Gareth as they walked, "I see you've got another one of those trash novels."

"They're not-" Adela began to reply indignantly, then smiled ruefully. "Well, all right, I guess they are trash. But they're fun to read. Not really something you'd be interested in, though."

"Damn right I wouldn't be," said Gareth. He leaned over Adela's shoulder and read her book. "Do you really think that I want to hear about Sean's fiery kisses covering Annabella's-"

"Garry!"

"Mouth, I was going to say," said Gareth, laughing.

"Oh, shut up," said Adela, but her smile belied the harshness of her words.

"Isn't it great?" said Gareth. "Nothing but three months of rest and relaxation. No more Tiffany Adams plaguing you, no more teachers plaguing me. Oh, how I love summer."

"I'm with you," agreed Adela. "Why the hell does Tiffany plague me like this? Surely she can't still be PO'd at me because of that stupid basketball game?"

"Yes, well," said Gareth sarcastically, "Tiffany Adams was always known for her maturity."

Adela smiled. Gareth could always make her feel better about anything, no matter how badly she messed up or how badly someone treated her. He was naturally sarcastic, but rarely towards those he loved- only when they made him very angry, and he regretted it afterwards. But he did not bother to curb his tongue around people he didn't like. Tiffany was, of course, one of those people.

Adela went to the grocery store to pick up a few things for her mother, and returned home. As she was walking in the door, she realized something. Oh, she thought, I left my book at the mall! Adela rushed out the door, calling out to her mother that she would be right back. She took the bus back to the mall, and, to her relief, found her book right where she had left it. She was walking towards the exits when she heard Tiffany's shrill giggle behind her. Not AGAIN! she thought.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the geek again," said Tiffany, her voice full of soft malice. "Come back for some more, Addie darling?"

Adela snapped. "I may be a geek, but you know what I am not and what I thank God every day that I am not? A pathetic little girl whose whole life is cheerleading and who feels that it is necessary to take down anyone who is better than her at anything, because she is so insecure that she feels threatened if other people even look at her. You may torment me all you want, but I win in the end, because that is all you are, and all you'll ever be. Go to Hell, Tiffany."

She tried to turn away, but Tiffany grabbed her arm and whispered viciously into her ear, "Whatever I am, Adela, I will be better than you. Because at least I know who my father is."

Silence. There were no sounds. Then the blood began pounding in her ears- louder and louder and faster and faster until Adela thought that she would shatter with the vibrations. She seemed to be observing herself from a great distance away- she saw the red-hot, blinding fury building up inside of herself, fury that came from a year of Tiffany's form of torture, and a lifetime spent railing against her unknown father for abandoning her, fury built on grief, betrayal, anger, layered over and over until Adela thought that it was locked permanently inside. Apparently not, said the part of her brain that was still rational, a part that was disappearing fast. Then it was gone.

Adela did not even realize what had happened until it was over. The glass in every window and storefront in the mall shattered, all at once. A wind of hurricane proportions ripped through the building. Tiffany and everyone else there was screaming, but Adela was strangely calm, not at all surprised by the sudden events. Water began to seep slowly through the walls, making cracks, until the walls broke, and torrents of water came gushing through. It swirled around angrily, making 6-foot high waves that caused extreme damage to the goods for sale at the mall. Adela's eyes widened in horror as she saw the destruction that it all was causing, and she knew that it had to stop. She forced herself to calm down, and it all stopped. The water disappeared, leaving a whole bunch of wet and very shaken shoppers. Once again, there was silence. Then a woman screamed, and it erupted into pandemonium- people were running everywhere, in complete hysteria. Adela was completely bewildered. She did not understand what had happened, but suspected that her anger had had something to do with it. Her mind refused to comprehend that she could do something like that. It was- a gas explosion, a... storm, and... pipe explosion! It could have all happened simultaneously. Odder things had happened in human history, odder coincidences. Then Tiffany began to shriek, a knife-like sound which cut through Adela's thoughts.

"YOU!!!" she screamed, pointing at Adela, on the last vestiges of her sanity. "You- you- freak!!! You unnatural, evil freak!!! They'll throw you in jail for this, they'll kill you- SHE DID IT!" she screamed to a bunch of security guards, pointing at Adela. "GET HER, SHE DID IT, GET THE LITTLE BITCH!!!!"

The security guards turned, stared at Adela, and walked towards them. Blindly, not even really knowing what she was doing, Adela began to run. She ran as fast as she could, which was pretty fast. Adela was tall, but built slim, long-legged and wiry, so she could run faster than most people that she knew of. She ran through the exit doors onto the crowded sidewalk.

Several minutes later, Adela came to her door, and paused, leaning on the doorframe, panting for breath. She heard running footsteps behind her, and turned, eyes widening in horror, expecting to see a troop of security guards or worse, police, running after her. But it was Gareth. He ran up, caught her by the arm, and dragged her into her backyard.

Once there, where they were hidden from view from the street, he turned to her and hissed, "Adela, what the hell is going on? I go down to the first floor exit at the mall because I hear a commotion. I see water and broken glass everywhere, and everything is knocked down or broken. I got there just in time to see Tiffany Adams screaming "she did it!" and pointing at you, and you go running off like a bat out of hell! What did you do, Evans?"

Adela stared back at him out of glazed eyes. She was so tired... This had to be some kind of nightmare. But in her heart, she knew that it wasn't.

She took a deep breath, and replied, "I- I don't know, Garry, all I know is that Tiffany came along and said something really bad to me, and I got all angry, and the next thing I know, all the windows are breaking, wind is coming from nowhere, water is shooting out of the walls, and everyone seems to think that I did it!"

Adela broke into hysterical sobbing. "I swear," she gasped, "I didn't mean to do anything, I didn't do it on purpose, I never meant to hurt anyone!" She collapsed against the wall, sitting down hard, still sobbing spasmodically, her head in her hands.

Gareth was shocked by her outburst. Adela had never been one to show her emotions like this- years of teasing had taught her to keep her feelings well hidden. She usually didn't react to anything like this, in fact. He didn't really know what he should do, so he sidled over, and sort of patted her awkwardly on the head. When the sobbing didn't stop, he sighed, rolled his eyes heavenward with the air of one long suffering, and slid down to sit next to her. He put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned against his shoulder, still crying with her hands over her face.

"Look, Dela," he said gently, "There is no way that you could have made all of that happen, okay? It's just not logically possible. It was just a coincidence. No matter how pissed off you were at Tiffany, you couldn't have done any of that. So don't blame yourself."

Adela looked up. "You don't understand, Gareth," she said, her eyes sparkling angrily. "I did do that. I realize that now. I got very, very mad, then something just shifted inside of me, and then all the glass broke, and I wasn't even scared, or surprised; it was like it was completely normal for me! I did something to cause that to happen; I know it. What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing's wrong with you, Adela," he said seriously. "Got that? It is not possible, it was just a coincidence, okay? I know you're still a little shocked by all of this, but I really wouldn't have thought you would act like this, I mean, thinking all that was your fault? It just can't happen."

Adela stood up very quickly. "Why don't you believe me?" she demanded, furious. When he said nothing in reply, she snapped at him, "Oh, just piss off, then!"

He stood up. His blue-green eyes bored into her emerald ones for a moment, then he abruptly turned and left.

Adela stared after him. Then she ran inside her house.

Bloody hell, she thought angrily. Why doesn't he believe me? He's treating me like a 5-year-old who just had a nightmare and now thinks that there are monsters in the closet! Asshole, if he was there, then he would have known- I did something, whether he wants to accept it or not.

Still fuming, Adela walked down the hallway. Then she heard her mother's voice, and anger was chased away by panic.

"Adela?" called her mother. "Is that you? Can you come here for a moment?"

Oh dear, she thought. She went inside her mother's office. The feeling of panic increased as she regarded her mother- her face was paper-white, her green eyes snapping, her red hair in disarray, which only added somehow to the scariness of her mother's anger.

"Adela Marie, what the hell is going on?!" yelled her mother. Adela flinched. The seriousness of the situation was even more apparent suddenly, because her mother hardly ever swore, unless it was something mild, like "dang" or "crap" which hardly even counted as a curse word. "Hell" most definitely did, at least used in this context.

"I get a call from Tiffany Adams' mother, saying that she's calling the police because her daughter said that you set a bomb off at the mall. What in the world did you do? Why is she saying that you would do something like that? You didn't, did you?" When Adela did not reply, she repeated, in a more hysterical tone, "You didn't, did you?!?"

Adela took a deep breath, and repeated to her mother what had happened. When she finished, her mother had gone white again, though obviously from a different emotion than anger, what, Adela couldn't tell.

"Oh God," she whispered. "Oh God, Addie, I prayed that it wouldn't happen to you, that I wouldn't lose you to it too, and I thought, that when no letter came, it was okay- that you would never have to even know about it. The summer that you turned 11 was the worst time of my life- the whole time, I did nothing but worry, and pray, and when the letter didn't come, I thought it was all right, that you didn't have it- Oh God!"

Adela was shocked- she had expected fury in unthinkable amounts from her mother, not this weepy clinginess. "I didn't have what?" she demanded.

Her mother looked up at her with red, swollen eyes. "Magic," she said dully. "Your aunt had it. And it killed her. I lost my sister when she was only 11. I was 13. She got the letter, and off she went, without a thought for any of us, and I hardly ever saw her again. She never really liked this world- her thoughts were always with them and their world."

Adela's first thought was that Adela was not the crazy one in the room. "Mom," she said as gently as she could while freaking out that she'd be sent to live with Petunia when the men in white coats took her ranting mother away, "what in the world are you talking about?"

Her mother laughed shakily. "I suppose I'd better start from the beginning, hadn't I?" she said. "Dela, there's a whole community of people, all over the world, who have magic. They're kept secret from Muggles- that's non-magic people. There are magic schools all over- one in Salem, one in Scotland, in France, and many more. Your aunt Lily was born a Muggle in England, but found to have magic. So Hogwarts- that's the English magic school- sent her a letter inviting her to attend. And now- now I see you have it too. What's puzzling me is that you haven't shown it until now- if you had magic, one of the magic schools surely would have sent you a letter inviting you to attend."

Adela's mouth had dropped open in surprise. "I have magic?" she said. "What the-"

"Yes, you do," said her mother. "I can only comfort myself that I've had you for a few extra years. Now they'll all be wanting you to come to their academies and I'll hardly see you at all."

"Wait a second," said Adela. "I'm not going anywhere before I find out more about this. What do you mean, Aunt Lily had magic? And she was killed by it? There was no car accident? Why did you lie to me all of this time? Why-"

Her mother cut her off. "Yes," she said sadly, "my sister Lily had magic, and she went off to Hogwarts, like I said. The magic itself didn't kill her, per say, but she was murdered by a Dark Wizard, called Voldemort. I'm sorry I lied to you, but I thought you didn't have the magic, so that you wouldn't really need to know."

"She was murdered?" whispered Adela. She sat down, hard, on a chair. "My God," she said. "Wow. So, is there anything else I should know about?"

Rose seemed to hesitate for a moment before replying, "Yes. Addie- you have a cousin."

"Yah- Mum, I know about Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley, okay? I've heard enough stories about the lot of them to know I want to stay as far away from them as possible-"

"No," said her mother. "You have another cousin. Lily's son. His name is Harry Potter, and he has magic also."

"WHAT?!" yelled Adela. The whole magic thing had unnerved her enough as it was- to find out she had a cousin was the last straw, and any control she had had over her nerves evaporated. "I have a BLOODY COUSIN? WHAT THE FUCK ELSE SHOULD I KNOW ABOUT? DO YOU HAVE AN ILLEGITIMATE CHILD SOMEWHERE??? ARE YOU A BLOODY DRUG DEALER??? AM I PART DEMON OR SOMETHING???!!!"

Rose, to Adela's extreme annoyance, was laughing. "Half-demon?" she said. "Highly unlikely. I do have some standards, after all."

Adela's anger disappeared. She smiled grudgingly. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just a lot to hear, all at once."

"You're right," said Rose. "I'm sorry, too, for not telling you all of this sooner."

"It's okay," assured Adela. "I just want to know what will happen next, now that we really do know that I have magic. Will I go to one of those schools?"

"Undoubtedly," said Rose. "An untrained witch or wizard is a hell of a dangerous individual."

Adela sighed. "So," she said. "Tell me about my cousin. What's he like?"

"I honestly don't know," said Rose. "All I know is that his name is Harry Potter, he's 15 and just finished his 5^th year at Hogwarts. Lily married a man named James Potter very soon after they graduated. They had Harry a year before I had you. And when he was only 1, they were murdered by Voldemort. I don't really know why he killed them. No one but Harry, and possibly Albus Dumbledore, really knows why. But the important thing is that Voldemort- quite possibly the most powerful wizard at that time- tried to kill Harry, who was but a baby, but his curse rebounded on him, and reduced him to almost nothing. He could not die, but could not live. Harry lived, though; the reason for that is also a mystery. But just a year ago, when Harry was 14, Voldemort returned, and will soon become the terror of the wizarding world, just as he was 15 years ago."

"Dang!" said Adela. "I can't believe that no one ever discovered this. I mean, an evil wizard terrorizing thousands of people, and no one in our world ever finds out? How blind are we?"

"There are very ancient and powerful spells which keep the magical community hidden from Muggles."

"Hmm," said Adela. Her life had suddenly shifted completely, and she was still in a state of shock. What would happen to her now?

"Where will I go to school?" she asked.

"I'm not really sure," said Rose. "Professor Dumbledore may wish for you to attend Hogwarts, in order for you to meet Harry. I'm sure you'll love England." She tried to sound cheery, but the words came out strained and false.

Adela looked at her mother, and felt sad. She knew that she would desperately miss her mother, and Gareth, as mad as she had been at him before. They were the only people in the whole world that she loved, after all- she couldn't be expected to just move to the other side of the world and not feel something! "Look, Mum," she said. "I'll be back here for summer vacation, and stuff. It's not like I'm suddenly going to vanish from your life, after all. I'll write- I'll write tons, I promise!"

Adela's mother laughed slightly. "It's all right, Adela. I just want you to be safe and happy, and magic school would certainly be the best place for you. I have to go make a phone call- I'll be right back."

Adela felt an overwhelming rush of affection for her mother- she knew that this must be hard on her, yet she was being so selfless. She waited a few minutes for her mother to return, which she did.

"Well," said her mother. "I just spoke to Dumbledore, and he says that you will be put on an intensive study course this summer, and attend your fifth year of Hogwarts in the fall. Do you want to go?"

Adela considered this. It would be a whole new life, full of adventure and excitement, nothing like her boring one. But, she would be leaving everything behind. Then again, she could always write...

"Definitely," she said, a gleam in her eyes.

"All right, then," said her mother. "You'd better get studying, my girl- the books are being sent to us now."

"Okay," said Adela. She turned to go, then paused. "One more thing, Mom- who is Albus Bumbledore?"

Fall

Adela stood at King's Cross. She knew she had gotten the right day and time for the arrival of the train, but where in the hell was Platform 9 ¾? She stared around for some sign of someone who could help her, but everyone looked to her like an ordinary Muggle- one who would surely call security if she asked them where it was.

She stared again at the space between platforms 9 and 10, as hough looking at it hard enough could cause the right platform to appear magically- which, she thought wryly, perhaps was not all that implausible.

Then she saw a short, slender, pretty girl detach herself from the crowd and come to stand near Adela. She had large hazel eyes and curly brunette hair which was pulled tightly back into a sensible braid. She pushed a cart with an antique-looking trunk on it similar to Adela's own. The most unusual thing about her luggage was a large, long-haired cat with ginger-orange fur and a slightly squashed face, which was regarding her sulkily from its seat in a wicker basket. Something about the way this girl stared purposefully at the space between the platforms said to Adela, 'witch', so Adela decided to take a chance.

She walked up to the girl, and shyly asked, "Excuse me, could you tell me where Platform 9 ¾ is?"

The girl turned to look at her. She had to look up at her, because Adela was very tall for her age. "Are you new at Hogwarts?" she asked in a friendly voice. "You seem sort of- well..."

"Old?" said Adela with a laugh. "I'm Muggle-born, and my magic showed itself kind of late. I'm fifteen years old."

The girl smiled. "You know, I'm Muggle- born, also. Hermione Granger," she said, holding out her hand to be shaken.

"Adela Evans," replied Adela, shaking Hermione's hand and smiling in return.

Hermione stared at this girl. Did she just say that her last name was Evans? As in Lily Evans, the mother of Hermione's best friend, Harry Potter? Hermione shook her head. Evans was a common name. Surely there was no connection.

"Anyway," she said to Adela, "I'll show you how to get on to the platform..."

A few minutes later, Hermione was seated across from Adela on the train. They were chatting amicably about how they had found out about magic. Adela was telling Hermione all about the study program that she had gone through over the summer in order to catch up to 5^th-year level- Hermione, being herself, was very interested in that sort of thing.

Then they heard a voice from behind Adela, and Hermione's face lit up. "Hey, 'Mione!" chorused two boys. Adela turned, and looked at them. One of them was a very tall, rather attractive boy with a mop of red hair and freckles, but the one who drew Adela's attention was the shorter of the two. He was slender, but not skinny. His hair was jet-black, and stuck up at crazy angles all over his head. His skin was somewhat pale, and there was a thin red scar in the shape of a lighting bolt on his head, but even his unusual scar was not what drew Adela's focus. It was the fact that his eyes, framed by glasses, were the very same shade of bright green as Adela's own. Her suspicions concerning him were all but confirmed when Hermione cried, "Harry! Ron!"

Hermione was thrilled. She hadn't seen either of her two best friends since the end of the term last summer, and had been missing them both very much- particularly Harry, though she would rather die than say as much. Though she smiled quite genuinely on the outside, inside, she sighed. She hated being in love with Harry Potter, knowing that were she ever to tell him that she felt this way, it would ruin their friendship forever. She was all but certain he did not reciprocate. So she scooted over to make room for him, smiling at him in a friendly manner, all the while wanting to snog him senseless. This last image almost made her start giggling, but she made herself snap out of it.

"Hey," said Harry, smiling down at Hermione. She looked so pretty and happy, smiling at him in a manner that made his vision go blurry, and his head feel strangely hollow, and disconnected from the rest of his body. How was it that she had gotten more beautiful over the summer? He shook himself out of such thoughts. Hermione was his best friend, and to say what he felt for her would surely destroy everything that they had had for the past 5 years. For he was fairly certain that she did not feel the same about him. It would be mortifying to confess, and to have to endure her pity. He shook himself out of it, suddenly aware that Hermione was speaking to him.

"-is Adela, she's Muggle-born," Hermione was saying, gesturing to the girl seated across from her. "Adela, meet Ron Weasley, and Harry- Harry Potter." She looked up at him, and stared, eyes wide. Inwardly, he groaned. Not more of this Oh my gosh, are you really THE Harry Potter?!?! He was so sick of being accosted by people in the magical world, and had thought that perhaps at least on the Hogwarts Express he would get some relief. Apparently not.

Adela stared at the black-haired boy. Hearing his name from Hermione- at last, she knew. This boy was her long-lost cousin. She fought down a ridiculous urge to laugh- her life was suddenly sounding like a very bad soap opera. She knew from her mother that he was famous, and wondered suddenly whether he would believe her when she told him that she was his cousin. She forced herself to speak, smiling and standing up at the same time. "Hi," she said, shaking his hand. He smiled somewhat weakly at her, and suddenly she realized that she had been staring at him a moment before. Great, now he'll definitely think I'm one of those publicity-hungry groupie-type girls, she thought.

"So," said Hermione to fill the suddenly awkward silence, "what house do you think you'll be sorted into, Adela?"

"I really don't know," she replied. "I did some research about the houses and their founders, and Hufflepuff sounds all right, but I'd really like to be in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Slytherin sounds sort of iffy, I mean, all those dark wizards came from there. Voldemort came from that house-"

She was interrupted by the red-headed boy, whom she assumed must be Ron. "Don't say his name!" he said, shuddering.

"Oh, Ron, don't be so ridiculous," scolded Hermione. "Harry says his name, why shouldn't Adela be able to also? Really, you'll have to get used to it, what with him being back and all-"

She suddenly stopped, and they all turned and looked at Adela. She tried not to laugh at the almost stricken looks on their faces. "It's all right, I already know all about Voldemort," she said. A brief shadow passed over her face as she said without really thinking, "My aunt-" She stopped, realizing with a jolt that she was talking about Harry Potter's mother, and that it would be a very bad way of informing him that they were cousins, to blurt it out like that.

"Oh," said Hermione, sympathetically. She felt terrible for the poor thing. Her aunt had obviously been murdered by Voldemort, and she still quite apparently felt terrible about it. She put an arm around Adela's shoulders. "It's all right, you don't have to say anything," she said comfortingly.

"It's okay," said Adela. "She died when I was a month old, so I never really knew her." Hermione noted that she glanced in Harry's direction as she said this, a quick, odd sort of glance. Hermione frowned. That was odd...

Ron was only half-listening to the conversation. His eyes were on the girl's face, his mouth slightly open. She was, with the exception of Fleur Delacour, the prettiest young woman he had ever seen. She had shiny, straight brunette hair which tumbled down several inches past her collar, and a nice figure, but the thing which he was most attracted to was her eyes, which were an amazing shade of green, and were somehow oddly familiar- he realized with a jolt that they were exactly like Harry's eyes. This discomforted him greatly- why did she have eyes so like his? Were they related somehow? But surely Harry would have said something if he had a long-lost sister or cousin! He frowned slightly, and caught his bottom lip in his teeth, scrutinizing this Adela girl. She looked at him suddenly, and smiled. He felt a wave of heat wash over him, and he looked away, acutely embarrassed.

Adela's glance shifted from Harry to Ron. He had his bottom lip caught in his teeth in a very cute manner, and he was staring at her with a rather assessing gaze. Something prompted her to smile at him- he was very sweet and vulnerable-looking. For some reason, he blushed and looked away, which only made him seem somehow cuter. She shook her head, and returned her focus to her present problem- which was how to tell Harry about their being related.

They chatted for a while about various things, laughing and eating snacks from the cart. Adela found them very easy to be around- they were talkative and friendly, and seemed only too willing to answer any questions she had about the magical world. Hermione liked Adela at once, finding in her a kindred spirit- someone who liked studying, and logic. Harry, though his initial impression of her wasn't favorable, grew to like her as the ride went on, and thought that she was a pretty decent sort, for a girl who was not Hermione. She reminded him a lot of Hermione, how she spoke and acted, though. And Ron was rather besotted with Adela- she was beautiful, and seemed clever and likeable enough.

Finally, they reached the Hogwarts stop in Hogsmeade (which Adela had also researched), and began to walk to the castle. As they walked, Adela fought an inner battle. She knew that she had to tell Harry, before it was too late, for she knew that he would detest her if she withheld the information from him, but at the same time, she was unwilling to disturb the little friendship that they had. Finally, she reached a decision. She walked up to Harry, and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, a look of polite inquiry on his face.

"Harry," she began, "I have something I need to tell you..."

A/N: Okay, that was Chapter One. Love it? Like it? Hate, detest and abhor it with all of your being? Please, please review (whether it's complementary or not)- this is my first fanfic, and I honestly have no idea if it's good or not, so I need you guys to tell me!!! I know that this chapter was mostly about Adela, but she is a main character, after all, and needs more introduction than the rest. From now on, there will be more H, Hr and R. Next chapter- how does Harry react to the news? The Trio gets to know Adela better, Adela is sorted, and Ginny Weasley makes a very impressive entrance (Did you really think I would leave her out? I'm a HUGE Ginny fan). Please Review!!! Chapter 2 already posted.

Chapter 2: The Magic Life

"Harry," she said tentatively, "I have something I need to tell you."

He looked at her, curiosity on his face. He barely knew Adela. What would she have to tell him that would merit this kind of serious tone?

She looked at him for a moment, biting her lip, hesitating to tell him. At last she spoke. "Harry, you're probably not going to believe what I have to tell you, and with your publicized life, I can hardly blame you." She stopped again, and he stared at her, confused.

"What are you talking about?" he said.

She sighed. "Might as well be blunt, I guess," she said, half to herself. Then she looked at him. "Harry, I'm your cousin," she said.

He stared at her for a moment. "You don't think that anyone has ever tried that one with me before?" he asked sardonically. "It's just another fabulous side affect of fame."

She sighed again, this time in an exasperated manner. "I'm telling the truth!" she said. "My mother is Rose Evans. Her sister was your mother, Lily Potter, also sister to Petunia Dursley. Petunia probably never told you about my mother, probably because they hate each other. What can I say to get you to believe me?!"

Harry shoved his hair out of his eyes, about to tell her off for such outrageous deceit. How dare she say such a thing, involving his mother in her lies?! He was very, very angry. But then he realized something- his Sneakoscope, tucked away in his coat pocket, had not gone off.

He hastily dug it out, and held it in the palm of his hand. "Repeat what you just told me," he said, somewhat breathlessly.

She gave him an odd look, but said, "I, Adela Evans, am the cousin of Harry Potter. My mother is named Rose Evans, and she is the full sister of Lily Potter and Petunia Dursley."

The Sneakoscope did not go off. Harry stared at Adela in amazement. It was true. All this time, he'd had a cousin, and an aunt, and never known anything about them. He couldn't believe it. "You're telling the truth," he said in an oddly constrained voice.

Adela smiled weakly. "Took you long enough," she said. "I'm sorry you never knew, but I just found out a few months ago myself."

"Huh," said Harry. He looked so bewildered and helpless that Adela had to give him a hug. He stiffened, then awkwardly put his arms around her. "I really am sorry," she said.

"It's okay," Harry replied automatically. "Um- s'pose we'd better tell the others."

Adela broke away. "Yep," she said. "Wonder how they'll take it." A slight smile quirked her lips as she thought of their reactions. She didn't know either of them all that well, but she knew that they would be completely nackered. She looked over at Harry, and saw to her surprise that he was smiling too. She looked at him inquiringly, and he said, "I was just thinking about how my life is like a very bad soap opera- long lost relatives, a psycho trying to kill me- all I need is a cheating girlfriend who's sleeping with my best friend."

She laughed. "You know, I was thinking that myself recently," she said. "Except for the psycho murderer part, of course. Unless I have a stalker I don't know about."

He snorted. "Ron was looking pretty-" and broke off.

"Pretty what?" asked Adela.

Harry blushed slightly, horrified that he had nearly humiliated his best friend. If Adela didn't see how Ron had been looking at her (in an obsessive, bordering on stalker-ish manner), it probably meant that she wasn't attracted to him in the same way, and it would probably make her pity him, and completely embarrass his friend. "Erm- nothing," he said. She raised one eyebrow, but said nothing.

Hermione watched Adela and Harry walking back towards them, feeling miserable. She had watched her drag him off, and they had talked in low voices for a few moments- then she had hugged him, and he had hugged her back. They obviously knew each other, and liked each other, although why Harry had said nothing about knowing her before, she did not know. Then a horrifying thought came to her- what if Harry knew Hermione liked him, and had not told her about his new girlfriend for fear of making her unhappy, or jealous? Oh, that was too horrible to think about, but she could think of no other explanation of why they had not admitted to knowing each other. She felt tears begin to sting her eyes, and she wiped her hand across her face, feeling ashamed of herself for becoming so emotional over a boy. But Harry wasn't just any boy. He was her best friend, the boy she had loved ever since she had watched him come out of a maze with Cedric Diggory's dead body- not a romantic situation, to be sure, but she had looked at his face, and seen the terrible grief and vulnerability in those eyes, and had felt her heart go out to him and want to protect him, and in that moment, she had known that she loved him. Perhaps she had loved him ever since she had known him, and only realized it then. She didn't know. So she watched them come back together, looking apprehensive- obviously, they were going to say something about their relationship- and she felt her heart clench up, she felt so brittle and cold.

Harry looked at Hermione, wondering how she would take the news that their new friend was actually his cousin. Then he realized from the odd look in her eyes how it must have seemed, Adela and him embracing. Oh dear, he thought. He desperately wanted to set things right, for he didn't want her thinking for a moment that he was anything but hers. Though he never would have said so- he privately thought that he would rather eat a fully grown, live Blast-Ended Skrewt. It occurred to him that it would probably be the Skrewt doing the eating of him. He would even rather that happen than admit to liking Hermione.

Adela and Harry walked up to Ron and Hermione. No one said anything for a very awkward moment, then Adela spoke. "Harry and I have something to tell you both," she said.

Ron stared at them both. He was mortified- he had obviously been staring for the whole train ride at his best friend's secret girlfriend. Then he became angry. Why the hell did Harry always have to get everything- all the attention, all the fame, all the Quidditch talent, and all- all- of the girls?

Adela stared at their faces, surprised by the shocked looks that had appeared before she had even told them the truth. Then something occurred to her, and she started laughing. They stared at her, even more shocked. "Ha- ha-" she gasped, "You should see your faces! Harry-" she laughed, "Harry- they think we're dating!" And she collapsed in spasms of mirth.

Harry also got a good look at their faces, and suddenly the humor of the situation dawned on him also, and he began to laugh, as well.

"You mean- you're not dating?" said Hermione. A seed of hope sprouted in her mind.

"Good Lord, no!" cried Adela. "We just met for the first time on the train. We would never go out with each other- Hermione, we're cousins!"

Relief washed over Hermione, then shock. "WHAT!" she yelled. She turned to Harry angrily. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US?!?"

"Because," said Harry, and she was furious to find that he was still laughing, "I just found out now. Adela's mother is my mother's sister. She didn't know herself until a few months ago."

They all turned to Adela. She had stopped laughing, and had a serious expression. "I'm sorry," she said. "I wasn't trying to hide things from Harry. I only found out about this whole world 3 months ago. It's all really different for me, and finding out I had a cousin- I'm still scarcely less shocked than Harry, I mean, it's really weird, you know?"

Hermione smiled. "Yeah," she said. "I remember being completely lost and miserable for the first few months of school- I still couldn't adjust my mind to all of the magical things I saw! Honestly, I was terrified half the time- well, you have us to teach you about this world, so your school experience should be easier then mine."

Adela smiled gratefully. It was really nice to have new friends right away like this- she wouldn't have to worry about making friends at the school now, because she had them already.

They reached the castle a few minutes later, using carriages that seemed to move on their own. Adela was hardly surprised- she was getting used to odd things now. They walked inside. Adela gazed around in amazement at the Great Hall- the rows of long tables, the ceiling enchanted to look like the sky, the many students already there in their black robes. "Wow," she breathed. Ron heard her, and grinned at her. "Pretty cool, huh?" he said.

"Yeah," she said fervently.

Suddenly a sharp voice said behind her, "Excuse me, Miss Evans, but would you please come to my office for a moment?" She turned to see a tall woman with graying black hair and a sharp nose gazing down at her sternly. "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, if you will excuse us?" They left.

"Miss Evans, I am Professor McGonagall. I am the head of Gryffindor house. Welcome to Hogwarts. If you could come to my office, we can get you sorted privately, as the Headmaster thought it best that you not have to have the embarrassment of being so obviously older than all of the first years."

They had reached Professor McGonagall's office. "If you'll just wait here for a few minutes, the hat will be available soon." She closed the door, and Adela sat down in a poufy chair. She wondered vaguely how she would be sorted- she had obviously heard of the 4 houses of Hogwarts, but not how each student was put into a particular house.

Professor McGonagall returned a few moments later. "Here is the sorting hat," she said, handing an old, tattered, pointed hat out to Adela. Adela stared at her, not sure what to do. "Well, don't just stand there and gape, girl," snapped McGonagall. "Put it on!"

Adela did so, and almost fell off of her chair when the hat started talking. "Well, well, well, Adela Evans," it said. "I waited for you a long time. You were supposed to be here 4 years ago. Ah well, better late than never. Hmmm, let's see. Plenty of brains- good candidate for Ravenclaw, I'm sure. Bravery too- plenty of it. Lots of common sense, loyalty to your friends- an open heart, open to loving, but easily hurt. I think- let's see... Yes. GRYFFINDOR!!!" shouted the hat.

Adela took the hat off, smiling broadly. She would get to be in a house with Harry, Hermione and Ron! She was very happy that she would have friends in her house.

"Welcome to Gryffindor," said McGonagall, with a trace of a smile. "You may go down to the feast now."

"All right," said Adela. She went down to the great hall, and walked over to the Gryffindor table.

"Adela!" cried Hermione. "You're in our house!"

"Congratulations," said Harry, smiling at her quietly.

"Good on you," said Ron. "We'd of had to ignore you if you'd've gone to Slytherin." At the look on Adela's face, he hastily said, "Joking! Just kidding!"

Albus Dumbledore stood up and said, "Welcome, one and all, to Hogwarts! We have a new student in the fifth year this term, everyone, please welcome Miss Adela Evans, newly of Gryffindor house!"

Hermione nudged Adela to stand up, which she did, her face burning. They all clapped politely for her, save the Slytherin table, who were quite obviously Gryffindor rivals. Adela sat down quickly. Dumbledore continued, "Might I remind you all, particularly the first years, that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden for two very good reasons? The first being detention, the second being giant spiders." He smiled mischievously as a frightened murmur spread through the first years. "I know you all are hungry, so I won't go on. Let's eat!"

Food magically appeared in front of them- a veritable feast! Adela dug in- she was starving. Suddenly someone yelled, "Look! Here comes Ginny Weasley!"

"Please, God, no," moaned Ron, as most of the school left their seats and ran to the door, crowding to see.

A black motorcycle with a slim rider dressed all in black, wearing a helmet, was speeding up the path to the school, going as fast as possible. Running behind the motorcycle was about 50 reporters and camera crews, flashbulbs snapping frantically. Adela shoved past some of the people, fascinated. Ginny Weasley was the name of a famous supermodel in the Muggle world! Did she attend Hogwarts, too?

The motorcycle zoomed up, the paparazzi following close behind. The rider was looking behind at the reporters, and did not see the loose stone until the motorcycle hit it and went flying. It did a 360-degree flip and landed perfectly on the ground. People oohed and aahed, and burst into spontaneous applause. Professor Dumbledore came out, and cast a spell which built a wall between the reporters and the rider.

The motorcycle came to a stop in front of the school, and the rider hopped lithely off. The crowds parted to let her through, and Adela walked over to her seat. The rider stopped in front of the tables, where the entire student body was staring at her, opened mouthed. Ginny Weasley reached up and took her helmet off. Golden red hair tumbled down to frame a pale oval face. Almond-shaped violet eyes glittered as they gazed around, arched eyebrows raised, and full red lips twisted in a wry smile as she saw that she was being stared at. She tossed her flaming hair over her shoulder, and strode confidently up to Professor Dumbledore, who was waiting, arms crossed over his chest, a slightly sardonic expression on his face.

"Might I ask why you did not choose to use the train, Miss Weasley?" he inquired, raising one eyebrow.

Her eyes fell. "I'm very sorry I caused a disturbance, Professor," she said in a light, lilting voice. "The reporters made it impossible for me to even get on the train in time, so I used the only means of transportation available to me at the time. I hope I didn't inconvenience you too much."

"It's quite all right," he assured her. "Do sit down and join the feast."

She sat down at the Gryffindor table, as inconspicuously as possible. "Hi, all," she said. Nobody replied, busy as they were continuing to stare at her.

"Ron," said Adela quietly, "Is Ginny Weasley your sister?"

He looked resentful. "Yes," he muttered. "My sister, the supermodel. No one even knew she existed until this summer, when she went and got all dolled-up, and turned into Cindy Crawford. Now suddenly, everyone's all 'Ginny! Ginny! Ginny!' Lord, it's enough to make a guy go crazy."

"Wow," said Adela, who had barely heard a word of that speech past 'yes'. "You do know that she's also one of the most famous models in the Muggle world, too?"

"It'd be hard to miss the huge billboard they have of her in London right over Diagon Alley, so yes, I was aware of that," said Ron sarcastically.

Adela smiled, unperturbed by his tone. Hermione, meanwhile, had struck up a conversation with Ginny, as though everything was completely normal. From listening to them talk, Adela gathered that Ginny and Hermione were good friends, and had been corresponding over the summer as Ginny underwent her transformation. Ginny was in Adela's year. Adela wondered if she had any classes with her. Then Hermione had turned to Adela, and said, "Ginny, I'd like you to meet someone. This is Adela Evans. Adela, Ginny Weasley."

"Hi," Adela said, smiling and shaking Ginny's hand. "I'm Harry's cousin."

"What?!" said Ginny, her dark eyes wide. "How come-"

"You didn't know about this before?" interjected Adela gently. "I didn't even know I had a cousin until a few months ago, and Harry just found out about an hour and a half ago."

"Wow," said Ginny. "This was the last thing I expected."

"You expected?" queried Adela with a laugh. "I'm Muggle-born, I didn't even know I had magic until a few months ago. Suddenly I have this whole new world foisted upon me, and a cousin I never knew about! You're surprised?"

Ginny laughed. Hermione said thoughtfully, "Adela, you never told us how you found out about being a witch. Could you tell us now? We've got plenty of time."

"All right," agreed Adela. She related the story of her various adventures to the girls. When she finished, Ginny stared.

"Wow," she said. "You made all that happen simultaneously, just because you got angry? You must be a really powerful witch!"

"Really?" said Adela. "I didn't really think of it that way. I suppose I might be. I think I was just really, really PO'd."

Ginny and Hermione smiled in a knowing way. "Maybe," said Ginny. They then changed the subject, Hermione comparing schedules with Ron and Harry, and Ginny with Adela. Adela found that Ginny was in almost all of her classes, and was obscurely pleased. The other girl, despite being a supermodel, was the most down-to-earth person that Adela had ever met, and extremely nice besides. The two girls chatted for a while, becoming fast friends. Ginny introduced Adela to several of her friends in Gryffindor. Adela chatted with this new circle of acquaintances for the remainder of the feast.

Adela went to bed that night feeling that maybe she might survive this new world after all. Over the next few weeks, she adjusted to her new life- classes using quills and ink rather than pencils and pens, and spellbooks rather than textbooks. She wasn't exactly fond of the uniform, but it was a small price to pay for all the amazing new things she was learning. Experimenting with magic with only her mother to guide her was certainly not nearly the same as doing magic with an actual magic teacher and a room full of people her own age learning the same things. She had most of her classes with Ginny, and became better and better friends with her, as well as Harry, Ron and Hermione. It was awfully strange, getting to know a cousin who was a complete stranger, but they made the best of it, chatting and joking, and sitting together at the lunch table.

Adela was walking with them one day, on her way to Charms, when she heard a low, sneering voice drawl, "Well, well, well, if we don't have another little Mudblood. And hanging out with Potty and the Weasel, too! Trying to see just how low you can fall, little Muggle?" The speaker seemed to spit out the word 'Muggle' as if a Muggle was equal, on the hierarchy of life, to a wad of cow shit.

Adela, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny turned to see a tall, slender boy with silver-blond hair falling into metallic gray eyes leaning languidly against a wall, sneering, as two huge, hulking boys and a pretty blonde girl with vacant blue eyes practically laughed their heads off.

"Oh great, Malfoy," gritted Ginny. He really set her teeth on edge, that pompous bastard, thinking he was so superior, just because he had tons of money and was pureblood. Some of her best friends, including Hermione, were Muggles, and much better people than he would ever be. And now he was picking on Adela. Could he just LEAVE THEM ALONE, FOR ONCE?

Adela turned coldly towards this boy. She was used to dealing with verbal bullies, after a year of Tiffany's torment. The most important thing was to keep her cool and not get angry, a lesson she had obviously learned the hard way. She looked straight into his almond-shaped, slightly slanted silver eyes, and said indifferently, "Who are you?"

He flushed very slightly, the pale skin on his cheekbones turning pink. "I'm Draco Malfoy, of course," he said in the same superior tone. "Not that you even deserve to know, Mudblood."

"Stop calling her that!" Ginny finally yelled. She couldn't take it anymore- she was so sick of his pettiness and taunts. "Why don't you just tie a concrete block to your ankles and throw yourself in the lake, Malfoy? Make everyone happy, Malfoy!"

His mouth curled up in a disdainful smile. "What would you do if I didn't stop, Weasley? Try to burn me to death with one of your hairdryers? Oooh, look at me, scary little supermodel!" His cronies laughed again.

Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but Hermione gently grabbed her shoulder to stop her. "Just leave it be, Ginny," she whispered. "He's not worth it."

Adela, meanwhile, smiled maddeningly at this Malfoy character. "Nice name," she said sarcastically. "Not that it means anything to me, of course. You know, because I'm such a bloody stupid Muggle."

He looked at her lazily through the hair hanging over his face. "My ancestors were creating magic while yours were still swinging in trees," he said.

She raised one eyebrow, finally fed up. "You're not worth reacting to. You're not worth responding to. You're not even worth spitting on. Now get out of my way," she spat at him. Then she walked away, the others following behind.

"Not bad for a rookie," Harry said, grinning at Adela. She only smiled.

Draco, meanwhile, stood behind in the hallway, with his cronies behind him. He smiled, not in the least perturbed by her parting remark, though it had unsettled him for a moment. "I may have just found a worthy antagonist," he thought to himself.

A/N: Yes, the supermodel Ginny thing is extremely weird, but it will be important later. Yes, Draco is going to be an über-hottie. Those of you who are not Draco fans should stop reading now. Once again, please review!