Forgotten

Book 1 Ch 1

I raised my wand into the air in front of me. English Oak with a phoenix feather core. A full fourteen and a half inches. Incredibly easy to control, not that I needed it. My dark red hair fell over my shoulders as I moved back a few steps at the force of a spell. With a flick of my wrist, I shot back to take the offensive stance. The older witch deflected my spell just before it hit her. To say that we have been at this back-and-forth fighting for awhile would be an understatement.

"Impressive, Ms. Evans." McGonagall praised me.

Then what was I still doing at school a day before the rest of the students came back? I waited for McGonagall to tuck her wand away before pocketing my own. These spells had been seared into my brain. I knew the textbooks for the third years like the back of my hand. Better yet, I could almost recite the seventh year books off the top of my head. Staying the summers at school seemed unnecessary. Then again, where else did I have to go?

"The rest of the day is yours to spend however you like. You are aware of the schedule for tomorrow, aren't you?" McGonagall asked.

"I received your owl yesterday." I nodded.

McGonagall looked at me from over her glasses. "And you have it memorized?"

"Yes," I said, forcing back a groan. 

"Then you may go."

A large eagle owl pecked on the window behind McGonagall's desk. The feathers on the top of her head stuck up like ears. She had been one of my two pet owls, and the only company granted to me over what seemed like an eternity. McGonagall opened the window so Athena could fly to my arm. I untangled the letter tied to her leg. A smile drew across my face at the slightly sloppy handwriting on the letter.

McGonagall lowered into the seat behind her desk. "One of the Weasley boys I suppose."

"Yes, Professor."

"It has been quiet without those two around."

"Hogwarts isn't the same without them." I agreed.

I read over the letter a few times. The opportunity to ride on the Hogwarts Express to the first day of school had never been gifted to me, so I managed to live vicariously through letters. The train pulling up to King's Cross Station to collect its students, rolling through the countryside, everything seemed normal about their trip to Hogwarts. Everything except the first year entwined throughout the lines. Just small mentions of a boy, but never a name. 

My mind ran over who it could have been. First years were never much more to the twins then a way to make a quick laugh. My finger tapped along the crinkling parchment. The weight of my fingertip made the letter bulge. Stones weighted down my stomach.

"Professor?" My voice was soft, unrecognizable as it whispered back at me through the empty classroom.

"Yes, Ms. Evans."

"How many years ago were my parents killed?"

It was a silly question. No child could forget the answer. People who couldn't pick me out in a crowd could have answered. Ten years ago. It wasn't an event that someone could just forget. Harry would be eleven by now. Old enough to start his first term at Hogwarts tomorrow. Famous enough to catch attention on a train full of students who wouldn't otherwise spare a glance. Anyone with eyes and half of a brain would be able to point him out.

McGonagall placed her quill on her desk. Her eyebrows twitched slightly, but she collected herself before any other signs poked though her guise. "Ten years ago."

"Harry turned eleven this year, didn't he? Do you know how he is doing?"

It was hard to keep my fingers steady as they ran over Athena's head. The owl looked around the classroom, occasionally flicking out her wings in wait for McGonagall's response. My eyes watched McGonagall's every move from over Athena's head. She had taught me the look after all. I may as well use it for my own good.