Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Facing It Alone ❯ One ( Chapter 1 )

She stepped onto the smoky platform, her battered suitcase in hand. She surveyed the bustling station. Looking up, she saw the two station numbers, mocking her. Nine, and then, right next to it, ten; separated by a short brick wall.

“Now you, dear, go in.”

Misha swiveled her head, taking in the sight of a pack of redheads. The smallest, a young girl, was looking slightly nervous, pushed her cart towards the brick wall. Misha was just about to call out a warning, when suddenly, the girl disappeared. She watched as each of the redheaded family followed suit, until only the plump woman and a tall, skinny boy were remaining. The boy was very obviously not part of the family, his hair was jet black. Misha, knowing that these people must be wizards; they were disappearing into walls for heavens sake, strode up to the pair.

“Are you headed for Hogwarts?” she asked the boy. His head jerked up.

“Yes,” he said slowly. “And you are?” He held out his hand, and Misha shook it.

“I'm Misha. I'm here as an exchange student. I'm from Maiestas, it's in Iowa.” She replied. “Is that how you get on the train?” she asked, jerking her thumb at the innocent looking brick wall. The boy nodded.

“Is that a magic school? The one you mentioned?” he asked. Misha nodded, barely listening. She picked her suitcase up from where she had set it at her feet. She started walking towards the brick wall. She heard the boy say goodbye to the dumpy woman, and catch up with her.

“I'm Harry.” He said earnestly. “Harry Potter.”

The name sparked a memory in Misha's mind; she had heard the name a hundred times before. She didn't let her surprise register on her face, however. She walked through the barrier without responding. As Harry tumbled in after her, she said: “I'm in fifth year. Yourself?”

“Same.” He told her, grinning. His smile was charming, and Misha felt the first rumble of attraction deep in her belly. “Will you sit in my compartment?” he asked, helping her shove her suitcase in the luggage carriers that ran along the train's ceilings. Misha smiled.

“Sure, why not?”

The compartment was nearly empty when Harry and Misha arrived. Only a small redheaded girl sat in the corner, flicking through a magazine. “Hullo Harry,” she said, not looking up.

“Ginny, hi.” Harry said, slipping down onto the empty seat. Misha sat down beside him. Ginny looked up, a question on her face. “This is Misha. She's from America.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows and waved her silent greeting. Misha grinned. “Actually, no.” she corrected Harry. He looked up at her, puzzled. “I go to school in America. I'm a pure-bred Canadian.”

Ginny nodded her head absently; Misha could tell she didn't care. Harry was listening though, and he sent rapid-fire questions her way.

“So, what are you?” He asked, after she had told him all her favorite things, her best subjects, and a bit about her history. “Pure blood? Muggle born?”

Misha narrowed her eyes, her expression going cold. She sniffed back a sarcastic retort. Instead, she stood up. “And here I thought that the famous Harry Potter wouldn't give a damn about blood.”

She was just about to swirl out when two more people entered the compartment. “Harry!” they said at once, then looked at Misha, puzzled.

Harry ignored them; instead he tugged at Misha's elbow. “Hey, come back.” He whispered, his mouth deliciously close to her ear. Misha pulled herself away, spinning to face him, her eyes defiant. Hermione and Ron watched, looking to Ginny for an explanation. She gave them none, rolling her eyes instead. “I didn't mean it like that,” Harry said quietly. “I was just wondering.”

Misha stared at him, her eyes unfathomable, for a full minute before she nodded stiffly, sitting back down, across from Hermione and Ron. “To answer your question,” she said, after a few awkward moments. “I've got no idea. My parents aren't my birth parents.” Harry made a sympathetic noise, before introducing Misha to Ron and Hermione.

“So, Misha, are you going to be here for the full year?” Hermione asked. “Or is it just for a month? I've no idea how any of the other wizarding schools work, it sounds fascinating!” Misha grinned at Hermione's exuberance.

“I'll be here all year, and if I'm a good little girl, I get to come back next year also.” Misha replied. She had pulled her wand from her pocket and was playing absently. She flicked it silently, giggling to herself as she made the compartment door slide open and close.

“You can do non-verbals?” Hermione asked, astounded and more then a tad jealous. “We don't start learning those until sixth year, I think!”

“Yea, same for us, but I usually spend my summers trying out new spells.” Misha replied, bored with her wand now. She pulled her long dark hair into a high ponytail, exposing a long scar on her neck. Hermione stifled a gasp and Ron choked on the jelly bean he was eating. The scar ran across her throat, as if it had been slit, and was dark and ugly. Harry was amazed that he hadn't spotted it before. Misha made no move to explain, instead opening the magazine the Ginny had discarded. When Ron opened his mouth to ask, Hermione kicked him in the shin and he stifled his yelp of pain.

Harry, however, was entranced. Here was a girl, an American, no less, who had a similar history to his, and seemed unimpressed by Harry's fame. Misha yawned suddenly, smiling in embarrassment at her jaw snapped shut. “It's been a long day,” she explained. “I've only just got off the plane.” She curled herself into the corner, her head resting on the window, and fell asleep quickly.

As soon as she was sure the other girl was asleep, Hermione caught Harry's attention. “Where do you think she got a scar like that?” she hissed. Harry shrugged.

“I dunno,” Ron put in. He looked a tad dejected. “But it looks recent, it's all red.”

Hermione nodded, thinking intensely. Harry was wondering a few things as well. “I wonder if she'll be sorted?' he mused. “I hope she gets Gryffindor.”

“Of course you do,” Ginny said scathingly, just entering the conversation. “You've been falling all over her ever since you walked in here. It's not like she's Veela!”

“Maybe she is?” Ron suggested while Harry stared indignantly at Ginny. What had gotten into her?

“Don't be stupid, Ron.” Ginny snapped. “Look at her. I've never seen a Veela with brown hair.”

Ron still looked unsure, until Hermione added: “Plus, she's nothing like Fleur, so…”

Ron's eyes glazed over at the mention of the French Veela. Like every boy at Hogwarts, Ron nursed a small soft spot for the attractive TriWizard contestant.

“Point is,” Harry said. “I was wondering what house she'll be in, or if they'll even sort her at all. Do they even have houses in…” he struggled to remember the name of Misha's school.

“Maiestas!” Hermione piped up. “It's the only wizarding school in the Americas! They've published a book on it, I've never gotten around to reading it. I think it's Memoirs of Maiestas. I should pick it up, now that we've got an exchange student.”

“That's great.” Ron said absently. “She'd have to pretty smart though, to be an exchange student. She's probably in Ravenclaw."

Hermione nodded her agreement. “Good point,” she conceded, and Ron turned pink.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Ten Sickles says she's a Hufflepuff.”

-----

Misha sat, curled up, listening to the four friends discuss her. She could tell that the Ginny girl did not like her one bit, and Hermione was too nosy for her own good. Ron was a decent sort, obviously enamored with Hermione, though they did not seem to be dating. Unrequited love then. Amusing. Harry, however, was just as she had predicted. Brave, if a bit rash, thinking more with his heart than anything else. She almost pitied him.

But thinking of Harry Potter led her to thinking of Maiestas, and that, she didn't want to do. The school was in ruins, it was taking thousands of wizards to put it right. And Misha? She was deported, sent to the nearest wizarding school, where her identity would be kept secret. There would be plenty of dark wizards looking to getting their hands on a power like Misha, and her adoptive parents had been eager to send her to the safest school in the world.

What nobody understood, Misha thought angrily, was that it wasn't her fault! It had been an accident, and now every wizard in North America blamed her for ruining their pride and joy! Misha wished she could make it so it had never happened, but that was impossible.

Misha was jolted from her sleepy contemplation by a new arrival to the compartment. She opened her eyes a crack and focused on a pale, blonde haired boy, flanked by two beefy boys. The pale boy's cold eyes swept over the room, stopping at Misha. She shut her eyes quickly. “What's this?” he heard him sneer, and she felt a great dislike for him rise in her belly. “Taking in strays now, Potter? Got a thing for Mudbloods, eh?”

Misha leapt to her feet before anyone else in the train could react. The blazing fury in her eyes startled Malfoy, and he back up a step. Misha had already whipped out her wand, and sparks were flying from the tip. She was breathing hard and she drew a large breath before screaming the curse. “Eternus vereor!” Hermione gasped as Malfoy went flying, crashing into the wall of the compartment. He was still conscious when Goyle and Crabbe picked him up, but he was gibbering incoherently.

“You're a Malfoy,” Misha spat at him as she blocked his path out of the compartment. “I could smell the hate on you.” She moved away, letting Goyle drag Malfoy away. It took a while for Misha to calm down, she sat, staring out the window, her face a mask of anger. Finally, when she sighed and pocketed the wand she'd been fidgeting with, Hermione burst out.

“That was a fear spell!” she accused, her eyes shining. Misha shrugged.

“He deserved it.” She replied simply.

“That's not the point! They don't even teach those at Hogwarts! I've never met anyone who can do them!” Hermione look indignant that someone knew more about something than her. “Could you teach me?” she asked finally, and Misha grinned.

“Sure, but not now. We've gotta change into to school uniforms. I can see the castle in the distance. That is Hogwarts, right?”

Harry looked, and nodded. “Yea, we'll go change.” He agreed.

Misha watched as they all left the compartment, going where ever they wished. She waved her wand at herself once she thought they had left, changing her clothes easily. She watched as Hogwarts sped closer and closer.

A new beginning. Could she trust herself not to mess it all up?

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