Something About That Girl

Something about that girl

Snape sat in his office, correcting a pile of Potions parchments. Three months had passed since that fateful January morning when the inhabitants of Hogwarts had been awakened by the screams of a tall, blond girl. Not just any tall, blonde girl though. Snape sighed and walked to the window. At that precise moment, a large amount of what looked suspiciously like dragon dung splattered all over the glass with a loud "WHACK" five inches from his nose. Snape did not turn a hair. He just watched with his usual cross look as the slimy substance slid slowly down the glass.

Oh how he despised children...

Elizabeth had settled down at Hogwarts; she almost never lost her way in the corridors anymore and had learnt the names of many students now, mostly Gryffindors.

She slept in the seventh year girls' dormitory. This evening she sat alone on the windowsill there. Alone by choice; while she had no problems finding company, she has trouble avoiding it. In the beginning she was thankful for their anxiety to help her, but she dreaded their questions.

"Hey Eliza, where are you from?"

"How did you find Hogwarts?"

"Why were you screaming that night?"

Elizabeth and Dumbledore had made a plan for what to tell the students when they asked the inevitable questions:

"Your name is Elizabeth Parker, you were born in Eastbourne and you found Hogwarts by accident."

"Right. But what about the screaming?"

"You were screaming because of your fever, and when they ask why you ran away from home, tell them that you have never known your parents and you didn't like the orphanage. Whatever you say, don't-tell-the-truth. It's very important."

"Right. Yes sir."

She learned that liars have to have a very good memory, or they lose control. So whenever people asked her questions that put her in an awkward position, she just repeated the same phrases over and over, until they got tired of asking.

Elizabeth had never in her life used a wand, and knew very little about magic so she couldn't take classes with the other students at her age. Dumbledore had arranged private lessons for her with the staff so she could learn all the basics. Dumbledore had given Elizabeth her first wand, and she knew that forgetting the sensation that went through her the first time she held it would be impossible. A golden ray of light came from the tip of it and she had felt warmth spread all over her body from where her fingertips touched the wand. It really was magic. All her life, even the word "magic" had been banned, so feeling it running through her veins was indescribable. A thousand images then suddenly went through her inner eye so fast that she couldn't hold on to them: sparks in every colour, a laughing child, wonderful music, the sun, a drop of rain, a gathering of cheering people, a spring flower, tears of joy and a rainbow.

Dumbledore noticed her reaction but said nothing.

Elizabeth liked the professors in general, though Professor Snape scared her in the beginning. He had a funny way of watching her, like she was a bomb that could go off at any second. But Elizabeth was not easily intimidated and when she had grown used to his rough ways, she began to enjoy his lessons. At least he was very honest and she had great respect for that. She found the other teachers were generally very nice; she liked especially Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout and she had no troubles learning either Charms or Herbology. Elizabeth really admired Professor McGonagall and her subject and could easily talk to her. But her favourite subject was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps it was because of the teacher, though he, in fact, was not a professor at all; Harry Potter had received the task of teaching Elizabeth the basics of the subject, because the real Professor Moody, who had taken over the infamous Umbridge's job, also had to work for the Order.

Elizabeth liked Harry and his two friends very much, as they were also the only ones who never asked any embarrassing questions. Especially Harry seemed to understand that she wanted anonymity and respected that. In return, Elizabeth didn't ask him personal questions either.

Elizabeth sat down at the Gryffindor table one morning.

"Good morning Eliza, you're looking fresh," Hermione said with a great smile.

"Good morning Eliza, you're looking fine," Ginny said with a wry smile.

"Good morning Eliza, you're looking, um, well," Harry said with a shy smile.

"Good morning," Elizabeth said with a great lump in her throat. Having friends was new to her and she could get confused about how to act among them: she sometimes felt awkward and deliberately kept them at a distance: merely because she was really afraid that she would lose them. The smallest things like a letter or just a smile from one of them touched her very much and made her so happy she sometimes had to hide her tears of joy.

In the beginning she was a little afraid of walking in the castle alone, and for good reason: she had great troubles finding her way through the corridors. One day she was headed for the library, but the staircases had changed positions and she got lost. After wandering around for almost two hours, she finally gave in and sat down on the foot of a tall statue in armour. There wasn't a single portrait to ask for directions. Though common sense told her that someone eventually would come and find her, she was afraid. The walls of stone were only dimly lit and it was cold. Even the statues looked unfriendly. She was fighting the urge to start crying, when she suddenly heard footsteps.

Elizabeth jumped to her feet and was about to yell, but she didn't have the time before a tall, pale boy emerged from around the corner. He stopped in surprise and looked at her with great suspicion. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Elizabeth was trembling with relief and couldn't control her voice when she said, "I was l-lost and didn't k-know where to go." A traitorous tear ran down her cheek. She hurriedly brushed it away while carefully avoiding the eyes of the boy.

A couple of moments went by in silence. Then he said, "Well, I reckon you'd like to get back?"

She finally pulled herself together and faced him with a small smile. "Yes, thank you."

They walked back together without saying anything. Elizabeth was a little embarrassed. How could she have let him see her cry! She was sure that he now thought she was only a little whimpering girl who couldn't do anything without getting lost. She shot him a sideways glance: her first impression was that he looked very handsome, though severe. Now she noticed how sad he looked.

They finally reached the portrait.

"Well, here we are. I'm Draco Malfoy by the way. I know who you are of course," he said politely and held out his hand. There was a strange spark in his eyes. She took his hand with a wry smile. "Do you often wander around the corridors and save innocent maidens or am I just lucky?" She said, smiling and hating herself for saying such a stupid cliché. But Draco Malfoy smiled back, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth.

"Draco! What are you doing?" a posh voice said from behind Elizabeth. She noticed how Draco's smile vanished. Elizabeth turned around and saw a pretty brunette standing with her hands on her hips and an accusing look on her face. Draco's girlfriend, she thought to herself when the prety girl's look turned into sheer disgust as she noticed Elizabeth.

Elizabeth realized what it might look like and said politely in a casual voice, "Hi, I'm Elizabeth. You must be Draco's girlfriend?" Draco let out a soft swearword that only Elizabeth noticed. What was this about?

The portrait hole swung open and three Gryffindors came out: Harry, Hermione and Ron.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked Draco briskly. Elizabeth noticed the tension between the Gryffindors and Draco Malfoy. They sent him loathing looks but he didn't return them. He just looked very tired and sad.

But the posh brunette maliciously said, "Well, Granger, still can't control that bush on top of your head?" All the colour in Hermione's face disappeared but Ron and Harry turned red.

"Nick off, Pansy," Harry growled.

"Come on Draco, lets get away from this rat pack..." Pansy said and dragged in Draco's sleeve. He gave them all a tired glance before striding away.

Elizabeth looked out of the window. It was a warm day in April, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team had spent most of the day on the pitch. The final game between Ravenclaw and the defending champion, Gryffindor, wasn't far away. The team was now headed back, cheerfully talking. Harry and Ron walked behind the others. Ron seemed to have somewhere he had to be, Elizabeth saw him pat his friend's back and say, "See ya," before running off in the other direction. Then Harry suddenly looked up, and Elizabeth blushed when he smiled to her and waved. She waved back and watched him enter the castle. Then she found a pencil and some paper: she felt an urge to draw. She had always drawn; it was a way for her to get rid of negative emotions but also an attempt to capture a moment of joy or something that fascinated her.

She put the tip of the pencil to the paper. First she drew the line of the face; a strong chin and a chiselled jaw line. Then the hair: dark, slightly too long and bushy. Then the nose: it was not too big or too small. Then she drew the soft but masculine upper and under lip followed by the eyebrows. Then followed the mysterious scar on the forehead. She enjoyed it immensely. But the best part was when she reached the eyes: almond shaped, a bit large and very expressive. Harry Potter had appeared on her paper. She gave him a happy and relaxed look. He was finished.

Then she took a new piece of paper and sharpened the pencil. Again, she put the tip of the pencil to the paper and this time a pale but handsome boy grew out of it, like magic. She gave Draco Malfoy the sad look she remembered. Then she compared the two images; both boys were handsome and mysterious. They both seemed to have a curse on them that alienated them from ordinary society. Draco had obviously chosen to let his sadness out by being mean, Harry by being quiet. They were sort of the same and yet so different.

Suddenly Hermione and Ginny stepped into the room merrily chatting. For some reason Elizabeth hid the drawings from them.

His friends, Crabbe and Goyle, with Pansy Parkinson and a couple other Slytherins who adored him, surrounded Draco in the Slytherin dungeon.

"I like your new robes, Draco," Pansy said in an oily voice while playing with his hair in a flirtatious way. He didn't answer. Crabbe and Goyle were trying to find out if toads could talk by holding one in the flame of a candle. But they were disappointed; it just made some spastic movements and Goyle dropped it on the floor and he didn't catch it before it had sprinted away from its tormentors. The others didn't say much: they were all a little afraid of Draco, most likely because of his father, Lucius Malfoy.

Only Pansy kept talking to the absentminded Draco, who totally ignored her while looking into the flames in the fireplace. He felt her presence like strangulation. He knew that he was expected to marry someone like Pansy in the future, and that Lucius Malfoy wouldn't mind if it was Pansy herself; he was a good friend of her father, but most importantly of all, she was a rich pureblood, respected in the dark society.

He watched her closely as she turned away for a moment to talk to one of the others. She was not ugly; she was actually very pretty, if it hadn't been for that superior expression in her face and the heavy layer of make-up. Draco felt that he might have been attracted to her if she hadn't been so fawning. But most of all he absolutely detested the way she seemed to think he was already a possession of hers. She gave him nausea.

He thought about his father. He would never accept a no from Draco if a marriage to Pansy was discussed. Lucius Malfoy was a man very few people dared to refuse anything. As a child, Draco had adored his father and worshipped him like a hero. His father was a special man, he admitted to himself: his pride and ruthlessness had taken him far on the dark side. Draco knew the same thing was expected from him as well.

"Would you like me to get you some ginger beer or something, Draco?" Pansy whispered in his ear. Draco sprang up from his chair and turned to the window: she had startled him but he didn't want to show it.

"No," he said in his usual voice.

"Oh, okay", Pansy said, slightly offended and turned away.

"I don't want anything from you," he added in a much lower voice.

Elizabeth always looked forward to Mondays and Thursdays because those were the days she had D.A.D.A. lessons. She learned the spells Harry showed her quickly so at the end of most lessons they just sat and talked cheerfully.

By this time, Elizabeth had reached the level of a second year student in all subjects apart from D.A.D.A.: here she had learned as much as a forth year. Harry was very impressed and decided to test her talent by showing her the Patronus. He decided not to tell her that it was very difficult magic that not even the seventh years were learning it. Professor Moody was coming to check on their progress and Harry thought it would be great if he could teach Elizabeth the charm so Moody could see it.

The following Monday, they met as usual in an empty classroom.

"Today, dear student," Harry said in a voice that greatly resembled professor Flitwick, making Elizabeth laugh, "we are going to learn the Patronus charm." He explained to her the use of it and the theory behind.

"So all you do is think of something happy and say the words? That sounds too easy." she said.

"Well, imagine doing it before a tall, hooded creature that lives on people's happy thoughts and wants to suck the soul out your mouth, then it's a bit more complicated," Harry said, looking very serious. Elizabeth understood and was about to ask whether he had done that, when she remembered the unwritten rule between them: no personal questions. He sensed her thoughts and quickly moved on.

"I'll show you how it's done, then you try afterwards, okay?" She nodded and watched carefully as he closed his eyes and gracefully flicked his wand.

"Expecto patronum", he said. A beautiful silver stag floated out of Harry's wand and pranced around the room. Then it stopped and gave them a mild look before it fading away.

"Wow," Elizabeth whispered, amazed.

"Now you try," Harry said.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and searched for a happy thought. She had been dreading this, but tried hard to find something. Then she remembered a birthday a long time ago when she had been a normal, happy girl, with a normal and happy family. It had been a very good day. Then she started chanting, "Expecto patronum." She opened her eyes slightly. Vague, silvery smoke appeared from her wand, but no stag. She closed her eyes again and focused harder on the memory: she remembered the feeling of her father's warm embrace, her mother's gentle voice when reading to her at night. Still nothing happened.

"Focus harder Elizabeth," Harry's voice said from far away. She had not been able to recall their faces for a long, long time, but suddenly, with a great flash of light, they appeared for her inner eye. It came as a shock to her: she had been repressing the memory of their faces for so long. She was shocked and overwhelmed. At the same time as great happiness and great pain made her tremble and open her eyes wide, a great, silver puma sprang from her wand. Harry jumped backwards and starred at the beautiful and slender cat, that also prowled once around the room before stopping to watch them with great dignity and slowly fading away. Elizabeth breathed heavily. Then she met Harry's eyes and saw that he was shocked too, but with amazement.

"Are you alright?" he asked. She gazed at him for a moment. Then she shook her head. He stepped towards her to comfort her, but she stopped him.

"Don't," she said.

Then she slowly turned around and walked away.

(End of chapter two)