Part 1: An American Arrival

England…I can’t say how beautiful it is. So different from the States, so much more…green. I recently came from New York, yet I never saw the city itself or much of the outside world at all during my childhood or the present. It was all so new to me. My family did this to protect me from their enemies, seeing as they served as the richest Aurors in the state. But that was long ago. My family is dead, killed by the very same wizard who killed Harry Potter’s parents. My entire family was killed by his servants the Death Eaters.

            Let me explain before I get any farther:

            My family originally came from England, descended from a long line of pureblood wiccans who came to America to heal. The wiccans were much like witches and wizards, but instead used plants and herbs for healing the mind, body, and soul. They still used magic, though, but it came from their souls, the energy it gives the body. Anyway, they came here and soon became known as Enchanters/Enchantresses, branched off from the main part of the wizarding world. We became very rich in the process of medicine and were proud of our heritage of being purebloods, though we weren’t selfish like some are. We had house elves, but instead treated them as members of the family then as slaves or servants.

            Astor, the last and oldest of our house elves and my favorite companion, walked beside me loyally as we entered London. I had disguised him as an adult so he wouldn’t appear strange to the Muggle eye. Everything passed by in a blur as I though about the past. I had been home schooled with normal Muggle subjects as well as magic. My grandma taught me the magic of herbs, my mother the use of hands for magic and wands, my father taught me Muggle studies, dance, and certain martial arts as well.

            A tear fell from my eye as my long, midnight blue cloak flowed out about me, covering my long, black leather boots and a black lace dress. I proud of my style and I believe it fits me along with my raven locks, smooth ivory skin, and silver-grey eyes with just a tint of ice-blue and specks of black flecked in it, as well as my tall height. I towered just above the normal teen.

            “Is Mistress Vela fine?” he asked, looking up at me with sympathy in his warm eyes.

            “Yes, just thinking of the past. I’m quite haunted by it,” I said as politely as possible, making my face neutral and my eyes devoid of any emotion. It was something I had practiced many times because of the many guests who attended our parties when I was younger. I was taught manners and etiquette by my great-grandmother.

            “Yes, Mistress, Astor thinks we all do these days.”

            Our elves were taught to speak freely and we never hit or abused them in anyway. I was being sent to some sort of school my mother had enrolled me in before she died. She had attended there when she was a child, loving it dearly. She had hoped I would come to love it as much as she did and I very well intended to. I always respected my parents’ wishes.

            As we walked, Astor by my side, some Muggles, mostly boys and men, turned to stare at me googgly-eyed. No wonder; I was part Veela, which meant they would be attracted to me. I had inherited from my mother’s side from her grandmother, who was full Veela. It had skipped a generation for my mother.

            My mother had constantly talked about this school, saying how proud it’d make her to see excel in all my subjects, me being an only child and A+ student and all. I wondered for the next few days if I was even going to fit in there, seeing as I’m new and all. Might as well take a personal tour of London. I’m going to be staying here for a long time, I thought as I gazed up at Big Ben towering high above me, chiming away the hour.

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            The week before attending Hogwarts, I went to this place somewhere hidden by Muggle eyes known to the wizarding world as Diagon Alley. As usual, Astor accompanied me and I got looks from fellow magic folk.

            “My,” I gasped as I entered the Alley. It was crowded with many men and women, some wore cloaks, others hats, and most, both. I, of course, was wearing my favorite and only cloak given to me by my mother before she died. It was able to change color to the shade I desired. The hood covered my features, but still, others stared as I sauntered down the street. I felt slightly nervous because I had never been around my kind before, but disguised my fear with another neutral expression. The shade of my cloak was a deep purple, as was my mood.

            I looked at the list for the things I was required to bring. First off, I had to bring a wand. No time to use my hands anymore. I entered a wand shop called, “Olivander’s.” Very nice, very…rustic. Exactly my style.

            “Hello?” I called out. “Hello?”

            Astor was shivering slightly for some unknown reason. A man on a ladder slid by, glanced at me, and smiled.

            “Ah, yes, I remember that face. Vela, right?”

            “Yes.”

            “Your mother got her first wand here. I never forget a beauty like that. Oak wand with a phoenix feather.”

            “A wand?”

            “Oh, yes!” Olivander exclaimed, snapping out of his reverie. He fumbled over to the boxes, pulled out a few and looked at them carefully.

            “Here we are. Mahogany wood with phoenix feather and…dried dragon scale of the Chinese Fireball.”

            I gave it a wave and it broke a mirror almost instantly. After a couple more, I almost gave up, but he pulled out a quite beautiful one that was lovely to my eye.

            “Black ebony wood with unicorn hair and phoenix feather. Perfectly carved at the handle with unicorns and dragons.”

            “Yes,” I said fascinated, “perfect.”

             I gave it a wave and I felt…somehow connected to this gorgeous specimen. A chill ran down my spine; a good one, though. One of pure comfort, warmth, and love. I knew this was the wand for me.

            “I’ll take it!”

 

            I paid for the wand and cradled it lovingly in my arms, careful not to snap such a masterpiece. After getting my robes, the things in Astor and mine’s arms were beginning to overflow. I whispered a spell and a bag appeared. I told Astor to place my school supplies safely in it. I placed it in his hands, the bag feeling utterly weightless. I told Astor to sit down and relax his back while I went into the bookstore called Flourish and Botts. I removed my hood from my head and placed it among my shoulders, marveling at the many books. For me, it was sheer heaven. I pushed back some loose hairs and tucked them behind my ears, savoring the feel of the leather-bound covers against my skin and the fresh, new smell that only books could carry.

            I browsed through the many books about the sixth sense, divination, and empathy. I was completely and utterly enthralled about the significant detail the books gave. I was, of course, clairvoyant and empathetic, two of the many talents passed down through the thousands of generations of my family. Just simply by touching someone, I could sense how they felt and even being near someone whose aura was very strong depending on their soul truly gave me a sense of what their personality was like. As I was glancing through a book about the sixth sense, I heard loud voices, as my ears are very sensitive.

            “…Hermione, you have got to get out a little more. Your skin seems pale.”

            “Ron, I’ve just been reading is all. What’s the harm in that?”

            “Well, look at Harry,” Ron countered; I felt an urge to turn my head but ignored it, “he has been getting out a lot lately.”

            “That’s because he has to defeat You-Know-Who every year.”

            “Ron, please, enough talk about Voldemort,” a boy’s voice said.

I was completely sure of myself this time. It was him! I had heard stories, very few, mind you, about Harry Potter. I continued on with what I was doing and minded my own business.

            I wasn’t normally a nosy person, but to me, this information was important to me. I shifted book shelves, grabbing some required books and others for leisurely reading, and listened in the conversation, pretending to read a book.

            “Alright, Harry. You’re right.”

            “Now good, you two. Let’s get the required books and leave.”

            “Do you think You-Know-Who will come to Hogwarts?” Ron asked.

            “As long as Dumbledore is there, Voldemort will steer clear of it entirely,” Harry replied, their voices drifting nearer to me. I once again shifted shelves, placing the book back in its original place. I browsed through the titles and one called The Secrets of Magic caught my eye. I paged through it, admiring the history of magic and the secrets behind it. Very interesting. I tried to listen for more voices, but failed to hear none. I placed the hood of my cloak upon my head once more, turning around to pay for my books when I accidentally tripped over someone’s foot and fell. The books in my bag poured out and scattered across the carpet.

            “Oomph!” I gasped, the wind knocked right out of me.

            “Oh, I’m sorry, here let me help you up,” said a warm voice, offering their hand to me. I grasped it willingly and pulled myself up. My jaw almost fell from sheer shock as I recognized the face in front of me.

            The warm, welcoming emerald eyes of a boy gazed into my own as I felt a light flush of embarrassment warm my cheeks. It was Harry Potter, the boy I had heard so much about, but had never actually met…until now. His black hair appeared messy. I felt something…a tingling of warmth went down my spine. I had sensed Harry’s aura and immediately knew that he was a kind, brave, loyal person with much intelligence and who was always willing to help friends in need.

            “Sorry,” I uttered, almost silently. He smiled amiably, and I couldn’t help but return the smile. I bent down to pick up the books I had so carelessly dropped. I always hated to see a book mistreated. I love them so much.

            “Here, let me help you with them,” he said, bending over to assist me. We both gathered the books and put them into my bag, Harry smiling kindly at me.

            “Thank you,” I said, getting up.

            “You’re welcome.”

            “Harry, come on!” shouted Hermione.

            “’Bye.”

            “’Bye,” I said, waving after him.

            I recovered from my flushed state, paid for my books, and left. So, Harry is in the same school as me? This should be interesting.

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            Astor and I walked around and found a quaint little place called the “Hog’s Head.” I told him to take a rest and sit down; he had some trouble reaching the chair, but managed it. As I was ordering both of us Butterbeers, a tasty beverage that was heaven in my mouth when I sipped, I noticed Harry and his friends sitting at a table and chatting amongst themselves as I read one of my books called Hogwarts: A History. Very interesting. My table was close enough to theirs that I could almost hear their conversation. When I got up to order chocolate ice cream, my favorite, for myself, I accidentally brushed against someone.

            “Oh! Sorry, so…sorry…” I trailed off as I noticed who it was.

            “That’s quite all right,” Harry reassured me. I smiled with embarrassment and tried to walk off, but Harry stopped me by saying, “Didn’t I just run into you at the bookshop?”

            “Yes.”

            “You were that girl who I tripped-”

            “…by mistake. Yeah, clumsy old me.”

            Harry laughed and I admired how when he smiled, his entire face lit up the room. I had to smile, too, remembering the look on my face. Once again, I felt a tingling sensation, but I wasn’t entirely sure where it had come from.

            “Well, I have to, uh, go.”

            “’Bye.”

            I felt myself practically glowing as I got my ice cream and sat back down. If Astor had seen my expression, he didn’t dare utter a word.

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            I read the rest of my book as Astor and I headed to our temporary flat. The book pulled me in as I read about the unique history. As I finished up the section about the House Ghosts, we arrived at the flat. I thought about Harry as I relaxed on my bed, my hands supporting my head from behind on top of the pillow. What is it about him that puzzles me? Is it the distantness he seems to carry? The overwhelming sadness I felt him give off? I knew that Harry longed for a real family. I knew the feeling. All my family was either dead or murdered by Voldemort. When I thought of my family, my mom’s face popped into my mind. Fond memories of her sweet, sweet face and kind disposition rattled me. I swallowed a lump in my throat and strived to fight back tears which I hadn’t even notice well up in my eyes. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

            I let it out. I made the demons of my haunted past to expel my body. I sobbed and sobbed until no more tears could come. I lay then on my bed for a few hours, simply staring at the beige cracked ceiling of the Muggle flat. As the sky darkened outside, Astor came in to announce dinner. He noticed my depression.

            “What troubles Mistress?”

            “Just thinking of mom.”

            “Yes, she was a good woman,” he comforted me, patting my arm. “Mistress, dinner is ready… if Mistress wants to eat, that is.”

            “Maybe later. I don’t have much of an appetite right down. Thanks anyway, Astor.”

            “Anything for Mistress Vela.”

            He quietly left me all alone in the room, the noise of London echoing down below from my open window. My eyes began to droop and I soon drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

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            The next week was murder as I had to get ready for my new year at Hogwarts. Luckily, I began to pack the day after I went to buy school supplies with Astor. All I needed left to pack was some of my necessities and I was ready to go.

 

            The day finally came when I had to leave for Hogwarts. Astor accompanied me to the station and to Platform 9/10. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, had been close to my family and promised a place for Astor to work in the kitchen, seeing as I couldn’t have him following me everywhere. Today, my cape was once again a nice shade of midnight blue, which was my most favorite color next to black. I was wearing my favorite dress which consisted of a midnight blue corset with lace and lace-up strings on the front connected to a skirt that stopped just above my knees that was midnight blue underneath and black on top. The black was partly transparent in order to see the shade of blue. I was wearing my favorite pair of black leather boots which went up to my knees. My hood covered my face and hair as I walked, Astor behind me dragging along my baggage.

            There were many students gathering around and entering the train headed for Hogwarts as I passed through the barrier connected to the Muggle train station. Some were in their robes, but others still wore their clothes from home. I navigated my way through the other kids, getting some stares from boys and strange ones from girls as I made my way to the train. I ignored them, and after looking a bit, I finally found a deserted compartment in which I eagerly sat down in.

            I stared out the window and noticed that dark clouds began to gather about the sky. It began to rain lightly at first, but soon even harder. Mist creeped up on the windows. I heard voices just outside the compartment doors, but didn’t even turn to stare. I heard the door slide open and whispering voices.

            “Excuse me? Are these seats taken by any chance?” asked a quite cold boy’s voice.

            I shook my head and continued to stare out at the rain. I always loved the rain. During my home schooling years ago, I would always love it when it rained because it gave me an odd sense of comfort. I loved to read during these times before my family was murdered. I felt someone sit down next to me, obviously relaxing. He was so close that I was able to feel him; his aura, of course. Unlike Harry, this boy’s aura was cold, foreboding, and evil, yet he somehow had a soft and warm sensitive side of him. I could tell by the way he talked to his other two friends that he was top dog and very much your everyday bad boy.

            “So, are you new here? I haven’t seen you around.”

            I turned to him, making sure my face was entirely covered by my hood.

            “Yes,” I replied. I sneaked a peek at the boy. Yes, be very well fit his aura. The boy’s face was pale with ice blue eyes filled with mischief. He had slicked back bleach-blonde hair which gave him a very angelic glow. His face was perfectly chiseled and a smirk played upon his lips. They had been talking about someone meanly. He was definitely a bully.

            “I’m Draco,” he introduced himself, putting out his hand, “Draco Malfoy.”

            I took his hand in my silk black-gloved hand, which were long and stopped below the elbows and lined with the finest black lace. I shook his hand and dropped it. I turned my head once again to the misty window.

            “You didn’t give your name.”

            “You’ll know soon enough.”

            I saw from the corner of my eye Draco glance at Astor.

            “So, you have a house elf. Are you a pure-blood?”

            I shifted my head. “Yes, not that it matters.”

            “Of course it matters. Mudbloods and Half-Bloods are foul, loathsome people. They are utterly disgusting.”

            “I’ve heard of you, Draco. From where I come from we know you as one of the richest pure-blood families around.”

            “And where exactly do you come from?” he asked, voice thick with pride.

            “Why do you care?”

            “Because it’s my business to know. You’re obviously a pure-blood, so you should be sorted my house along with Crabbe and Goyle here. You’d probably make a fine Slytherin.”

            I sighed. “Doubt it. I’m not that kind of person.”

            “You can be if you want to,” he purred, placing his hand underneath my chin and turning my face towards his. I sensed lust around him. I shoved his hand away, keeping my head bent.

            “Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather not,” I said, rising from my seat. “As I said, I’m not that kind of person.”

            Astor followed me as I walked down the hallway. I suddenly bumped into the trolley lady.

            “So sorry, dear.”

            “My fault.”

            “Would you like anything?”

            “I…” I mulled over it for a second, about to answer no, but rethought it.

            I smiled happily, giving in. “Sure, why not?”

            I dug out some wizard money. “Two chocolate frogs and some Bertie Bott’s Beans.”

            She handed me the candy. “Thanks.”

            This time she smiled a comforting smile. “Anytime.”

            I walked down the hallway looking for an available compartment, enjoying the rich taste of my chocolate frog, but only one other was left. Harry Potter and his other two friends were sitting in it. I softly tapped on the door, opening it slightly.

            “Excuse me? But would you mind if I sat down in here?”

            “Sure.”

            “Not at all.”

            I opened the door wider to let in Astor. He closed it behind me. The trio stared at Astor. Hermione especially didn’t look very pleased, but she didn’t utter a word. I quietly sat next to Harry in the window seat.

            I quietly sat down and ate my candy while the trio watched me as if I were some rare bug under a microscope. When I offered some of my beans to Ron, he smiled and the other two seemed to come alive just then.

            “Thanks,” he said, mouth stuffed with beans. “I’m Ronald Weasley, Ron for short.”

            “Hermione Granger.”

            “I’m Harry Potter,” he said. There was silence; it seemed as if they suspected some big reaction, but I just simply nodded. The three looked confused for a moment, especially Harry, but they eventually recovered.

            “So, who are you?” asked Harry.

            “You’ll find out soon enough.”

            “Why in the world do you have a house elf?! They’re creatures, too!”  Hermione burst. shooting up from her seat.

            “Hermione, calm down, would you?” said Ron, his hand on her shoulder forcing her down onto the seat.

            “Are you one of those people like the Malfoys?” Harry inquired, cocking his head.

            “If you’re talking about Draco, no way. I just met him and he seemed so stuck up and against anyone different from him.”

            They all grimaced when I said his name.

            “Why do you have a house elf?”

            “My family is-was-what you would call ‘pure-blood.’ It meant nothing to my family. We were rich like the Malfoys, but certainly not as stuck up as they are. And besides,” I explained, gesturing to Astor in front of me, “Astor, like the other house elves that were apart of my family, were treated as equals. Astor was the oldest of them all. All of my family’s house elves weren’t ever treated like slaves or servants. We just didn’t believe in it.”

            “What do you mean ‘was?’” asked Hermione, eyes wide. I was silent and refused to answer. It was too painful.

            Instead of giving an answer, I turned towards the window and stared at the endless mist. this is why I don’t like people butting into my personal life. The questions surrounding my family’s tragic death were just too painful to bear. I knew that someday I had to spill my secrets whether or not I wanted it. They accepted it, obviously sensing the displeasure around the subject.

            “So, where are you from?” asked Hermione, looking at her feet. “Your accent is…different.”

            “Yes, as is noticed. I’d rather not answer that yet. But, I can tell you this: my family had a special connection with Prof. Dumbledore. He will possibly be telling the whole school about me. That’s why I would love it if you waited.”

            “Ah,” she said, nodding, “now I understand. You want to keep it a surprise, don’t you?”

            “Yes. Quite. Suspense is best.” I looked at her hands and noticed that she was holding a book with a raven on it.

             “What’s that?” I inquired, motioning to Hermione’s book.

            “Oh, it’s nothing. Just something I’ve been reading the past few days for leisure.”

            “May I see it?”

            “Sure.” She handed me the book. The cover read The Tales of Edgar Allan Poe.

            “Ah, yes, I remember reading this!”

            “You’ve read it?”

            “Yes! And I absolutely loved how spooky all of it was! The deep emotion of his words pulled me right into it!”

            “What else have you read?” she asked me, excited. I could sense that Hermione was a very intelligent person, very kind and brave, too. A lot like Harry, but quite different.

            “Well, let’s see…Shakespeare, C.S. Lewis, um…J.R.R. Tolkein, most of the classics…” I continued on. Hermione seemed very interested. We chatted on about books and debated on who was better and/or worse. Ron was bored out of his mind and instead be was fiddling with his clothes. All the time we were talking, I sensed that Harry was looking at me. He probably knew that I was different from any witch or wizard he met, besides my unusual bloodline. We talked until a prefect came and told them to get their robes on. I, on the other hand, had orders not to.

            The train eventually lurched to a stop and I noticed that it was dark outside. The stars shone like diamonds, though quite dim under the lights of the station. A man taller than a man was asking for 1^st years.

            “That’s Hagrid,” said Harry, voice filled with fondness and warmth, answering the question that was probably plastered all over my face. I somehow knew that Hogwarts seemed like a second home for Harry. Since my family’s death, I never really felt like I had a home. My old one was blown to smithereens by the Death Eaters. All that was left of it was some charred remains and the dust and burned bones of my family. I, too, hoped this would feel like home to me. I was already beginning to like this place.

__________________________________

 

            We were lead to coaches that were to take us straight to the castle by road. I learned that the 1^st years would be taking boats across the Black Lake. The coaches were all black, nothing special about them. I looked to the front of the coach to see if a horse was leading. You never knew in the wizarding world.

            “Oh!” I gasped. There standing was a dark, dark creature. It was a skeleton that harbored giant leathery wings and white eyes that shone in the dark. Flashes of my mansion home burning to the ground and my family burned and murdered appeared in my mind. I could feel the flames licking at my feet and the heat prickling my skin

            “What’s wrong?” asked Harry, coming over to me. I immediately snapped out of my reverie. He realized what I was looking at. Harry’s face went from confusion to sadness.

            “Oh…you can see them, can’t you?”

            “Yes,” I answered breathlessly. “What are they?”

            “Thestrals. Creatures of death. It is said that one can only see them if one saw death. Hagrid taught us about these last year in Care of Magical Creatures.”

            “And you can see them?”

            “Yes. If you didn’t already know, I saw my parents killed by-” Harry immediately stopped talking, looking very downcast. “Anyway, you know. Come on, let’s get in.”

            So, Harry knew that I had seen death. Astor and I got into the coach and we were off. All the time during the ride, Harry was silent, just simply looking out the window. My empathy told me he was melancholy. I left him alone to think, as did Ron and Hermione. The entire ride was quiet. Nobody said a word. When the coaches finally stopped we all got out. We walked to the castle the rest of the way.

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            As we neared Hogwarts, I literally stopped in my tracks. The castle was the most beautiful place I had ever seen. Even more elegant than my previous mansion home.

            “My,” I breathed. I knew I was going to like this place. The stars above could be seen clearly and the moon was full and so round and bright. It reflected in the lake. There seemed to be no sign left that it had been raining except for the damp grass. Everything was just so…beautiful. As we entered the castle, I was pulled aside by what looked like one of the teachers.

            “I am Prof. McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor house. Now, the headmaster wishes that you stay aside for a bit. He is going to announce you to the school and you are to enter through the doors of the Great Hall and you are to be sorted. Any questions?”

            “No, ma’am. Thank you so much for informing me.”

            “Very well. Good luck.”

            McGonagall left me standing there with Astor by my side. I have to say that I was feeling very nervous. I had never been with other kids, my age or not. I wasn’t even sure if I would be used to it. Well, we would see. I listened carefully at the doors, waiting the time for my entrance.

             “…The Dark Forest is strictly off limits…those of you who would not like to get lost, please steer clear of it for it is filled with dangerous creatures that not even the likes of I have seen…Now, we have some new faces this year, including one who has transferred here from the States…May I introduce to you all, Miss Drea Vela!”

            I backed away as the doors opened to reveal a most magnificent hall filled with all the students that attended Hogwarts. I began to tread my way slowly into the brightly lit hall.

Reviews

[KisuKimmi]

I'm just going to make a few suggestions as I read through this, it doesn't mean I don't like it, I'm just going to help grammar/punctuation wise, it's easy to make lots of mistakes when you're on a roll soo:
In paragraph 4: "A tear fell from my eye as my long, midnight blue cloak flowed out about me, covering my long, black leather boots and a black lace dress." it may be good to change one of the "longs" it sounds a bit repetitive having the word long twice in the description of what she is wearing. I also do not think that the 1st comma in that sentence is necessary.

In the very next sentence "I proud of my style and I believe it fits me along with my raven locks, smooth ivory skin, and silver-grey eyes with just a tint of ice-blue and specks of black flecked in it, as well as my tall height." I believe you meant to say "I'm"

Paragraph 9: "My mother had constantly talked about this school, saying how proud it’d make her to see excel in all my subjects, me being an only child and A+ student and all." I think it would sound a little better flow-wise if you wrote out "it would" rather than shortening it and then add the word "me" after "see."

Right after she sneaks a peek at Draco after he sat next to her "Yes, be very well fit his aura." I think you meant "it" rather than "be."

This sentence sounds kind of odd after you're describing Hermione and Vela discuss books: "Ron was bored out of his mind and instead be was fiddling with his clothes." The use of "instead" should be contrasting something else... Maybe it could be re-worded: "Ron was fiddling with his clothes, clearly bored out of his mind."

Good start =)

[E.V. Black]

Just so you know, this story was written back when I started writing. All such errors have been ironed out since then. However, I appreciate that you have been reading my writing. I very much appreciate it!

[KisuKimmi]

Okay ^_^ I'm just used to editing writing that my cousin's do.