Azkaban Chapter 1

Azkaban Episode 1
(NOTE - Disclaimer time, only this time I’m only going to say this once since this is a Harry Potter Fan Fiction site and I figure that means I only need to say this once… right? Right. Harry Potter and all related characters are the property of the one and only J.K. Rowlings (people are beginning to ask for more books, Mrs. Rowlings, please get to work). Book series is done, two movies to go (with Half Blood Prince coming in November 2008). There, I said it. Now read on.

“Alicia Spinnet” tried to be just a normal, typical girl.
She loved her free time, and enjoyed breaks whenever they presented themselves. She also dreaded the time she would be swamped in homework once again, even if the homework was abit more interesting than what “normal” kids did during their summer breaks being that she was doing the whole wizard/witchcraft in training thing.

She was not the Alicia Spinnet born and raised in this world. She was a Rogue Raven. A former Guardian between dreams and reality who was presently in hiding, and presently using the name of another (who she accidentally killed three years ago during a fight in the streets of London). The whole training thing in school was to keep up the guise of the person she replaced, who was going to start school when she died. All in all it seems things worked out for the best, except maybe for the dead girl she was impersonating… but at least it worked out well for her in anycase. One thing led to another and she ended up replacing her, something she wasn’t too comfortable with but a necessity all the same.

She didn’t want to think about it though. Thinking about it only made her moody and that wasn’t something she wanted to be right now. So she turned her attention back to her studies and went at it again. It was nearly midnight in her room located in Diagon Alley, but she didn’t feel at all sleepy. Maybe if she went back to her studies she’d feel sleepy.

As she propped herself back up onto her pillows on the bed, she drew the huge leather bound book (A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot) back up so she could look over what she was examining for reference as she dictated her essay, her magic quill keeping up with every word on the scroll set out on the table near her. The title of her scroll? “”Witch Burning” in the 14th Century -- an excuse for Muggles to behave badly.”

The quill was waiting patiently for her to recite her next thoughts as she looked over the pages, organizing her thoughts and setting her next words into motion.

“In the end, when it came down to it, Normal People (aka Muggles) suffered from an extreme paranoia over everything that they could not possibly understand, especially in areas relating to the supernatural and mysticism (magic). As a result, many Normals were killed needlessly because they were mis-labeled as Magic Folk, and that was in itself wrong. Worst, the magic community of the 14th Century did NOTHING to protect these people whose only crime were to be falsely accused of something they did not commit.”

Quickly she clears her throat before continuing, “These days the magic community is more keenly aware of the impact it has on the Normals (Muggles) that they live around, and how they have to keep an eye on them and do right by them, but in the 14th Century and beyond “witchhunts” were mostly an excuse for Muggles to behave badly, with entire villages losing it’s female populations in later years due to the barbaric and animalistic behaviors of sick, misguided men.”

‘And it always comes to blaming men in the end,’ she thought, as she sighed. She knew that her report would probably be rewritten by her professor because she always spoke her mind (her sharp, pointy ended wickedly damaging mind), and when she spoke her mind she spoke of things that weren’t terribly popular in wizarding circles. Still it was the truth and nothing could change that. Nothing.

The report was just about done, and yet she still wasn’t sleepy. She wrapped her thoughts, did her closing, and ended the report with a slight flourish letting the quill fall to rest as she ended.

Since she did not truly belong in this world she didn‘t feel any real attachment to it or the people about her with few exceptions, but this overall was just as well since she had no home to go to these days anyway (and one bad slip would mean discovery by the very people she once considered friends).

If she was forcibly driven away from this Earth she was certain that nobody who miss her. In fact she was quite dead-set in her mind that if anything happened to her, either here nor anywhere, her passing would go on without care by anyone… a sad fact that embittered her daily most certainly. So she spent her last few summers hiding out in the inn on Diagon Alley, and if anyone from school inquired why she did this she’d simply answer that she was living away from home as an independent woman and chose to live her life this way. Nothing deceitful about that to be certain. Besides, even if they tried to use a truth spell on her (which nobody ever has) they’d only learn that she was telling the truth, which she was. She was an independent woman, and chose the way she lived her life -- it was only the specific details that suffered from a lack of truth.

Speaking of a lack of truth -- while visiting Harry during the summer she ended up intercepting a rather bad phone call. Now, you might ask, how did she pull it off? She found that simply entering the Dursley’s minds before going in, and “finding” the right “buttons” to push when she knocked on the door was a good way to get into the house. She only had to turn on her “charm”, mostly faked since she never felt truly charming at any point in her life, and weasel her way through the front door and into Harry’s presence.

It was while she was in the house on one particularly “charming” visit that she happened to be near the uptight male of the house, a “Mr. Vernon Dursley”, when the phone rang. She politely excused herself and as he picked up the phone to answer she felt a chill run down her spine. Then it hit.

“HELLO? HELLO?”

At this Mr. Dursley jumped, holding the receiver a foot away from his ear with an expression of fury and alarm. Quickly, before he could react, she took the phone and covered the mouthpiece.

“CAN YOU HEAR ME?”

“Just a loon.” she told him, smiling as she did, “I’ll set him right.” (Just to insure his cooperation, she “settled” into his mind and played with his pleasure centers making him rather docile).

“I… WANT… TO… TALK… TO…”

Alicia yanked the phone up to her head and hissed “Ron shut the hell up you great big ‘git! Being home too long make you braindead?!?”

Ron - “HAR… hold on… WHO’S A…”

“NEVER MIND!!” she yelled, almost immediately realizing where she was. She quickly redoubled her efforts to “calm” Mr. Dursley, and spoke again in a quieter tone. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Are you daft?!?”

Ron - “I’m talking to the Muggle and---”

“Then talk to him for Heaven’s sake, you barn raised idiot! Don’t scream at him!!” (growls beneath her breath) “He’s a Normal, not deaf. Speak normally!!”

Ron - “A what?”

“A Normal, a Norm---“ (curses) “Forgot I’m in the Waking World… he’s a Muggle you racist bastard! Just never you mind!” she growled again, feeling the blood rush to her face turning it bright red, “Just hold on.” she motioned for Harry to take the phone as she calmed Mr. Dursley, only to realize he had fallen over with the most disturbing smile on his face. The flashback ended then, she didn’t want to think of it anymore. It made her bitter. Then again most everything about this world made her bitter. No surprises there.

“Maybe I tweaked him a little too much.” she thought bitterly to herself, thanking any deities above that she was alone with him and Harry at that moment or it would have been hard to explain the specific circumstances to his wife. In fact she still didn’t know how to
explain it even to herself, so she was just as glad when somebody from the Ministry of
Magic came to “retool” his memories. She didn’t get scolded by him, but she felt stupid for letting it get out of hand all the same. Most likely though the only reason he didn’t scold her was she used her Raven Skill (the application of her spirit into energy and form capable of great feats of power to the most skilled manipulation of the tiniest thing down to the molecular level) and thus it seemed “nothing” happened to him.

But here, in her own apartment, she had nothing to fear. One thing she did like about being out here in the world away from the school was that she was free to be herself and not constantly watch her behavior under the watchful gazes of so many. Another perk was that she could have unmonitored mail delivery, as nobody could track the letters her classmates and others sent her. Sure they could send letters, but they went to a “safe house” where a few “associates” of her’s (Magic people she saved three years ago) handled her mail as “family” and sent it to her via their own owl which was quite skilled at losing any “trackers” keeping her specific “hiding space” a secret. All for security purposes only, she reasoned.

There was, of course, no need for all this precautions since it wasn‘t like anyone was stalking her at this present time, but still it made her feel abit better (just in case that situation was ever to change in the near future). It kept the specifics of herself a secret, and yet she could enjoy mail. She didn’t get much mail, but she got a few.

Colin, the formerly annoying little ‘git from last year, wrote her once. Just once. But it was the letter she was anticipating. After his petrification and revival, she had struck a deal with him. In exchange for helping him with his “Harry Potter” photo album, she only asked that he’d take some photos of Hermione for her and send them during the break (so she wasn’t caught taking them off of him during school).

When the letter arrived it seemed heavier than she anticipated, so she thought he sent her some of his favorite “Potter” pics with Hermione in them. She was shocked to find that EVERY picture was of Hermione. “Damn,” she muttered as she flipped through the moving pictures, “Twit rates on “Stalker” level the way he takes pics.”

True to word, he did as she asked, and each picture looked like he was an expert -- at stalking people. She decided not to ask again this year for his help since his idea of “a few” pictures bordered on obsessive compulsive behavior which didn’t sit well with her.
“There’s a career in tabloid journalism here for the freak.” she noted with disdain.

Still, the pictures were nice and they all went into an album so Alicia could stare at them whenever she felt like it. Still, she did feel a little bad about the pictures whenever she thought about Hermione, but they were one of her prized possessions.

Another person she heard from was Oliver Wood, who spent the entire summer talking NOTHING but Quidditch tactics, sending her moving diagrams and so forth to “improve” her skills as a Chaser. She just chalked it up to his obsession for winning and the fact that he had yet to nail the big prize at the end of the year in Quidditch (the Quidditch Cup).
Made sense, though, if one would think about it. After all it was his last year at Hogwarts so it was now or never.

Still, with her mind more focused on love than Quidditch she wished she could ditch on the team and focus on Hermione. But it was too late. She was in for the long haul whether she wanted it or not, and nothing was going to stop them this year from winning.

With that said all in all she wished Wood was on for one more year so he wouldn’t bother
her THIS year with his trophy obsession.

There was also Hadgrid, of course, and the parade of students and fellow Quidditch players she knew who mailed her one and all. Then there was the one more on her list (just recent) who gave her quite abit of amusement to have on her mailing list.
The former Professor Lockhart.

When he lost his memory beneath Hogwarts during the entire Chamber of Secrets incident none could have been happier than one Ronald Wesley, who didn’t like him in the least.
And it would seem that was that for him, memory wise at least, because while that was happening Alicia had her own difficulties locating a lost treasure of her own dimension, a Darke Raven’s “Heart” (the source of a Raven/Darke Raven’s power, the crystal “heart” which contained the abilities for Ravens to tap into their great power levels) which was located in a second darker chamber beneath the chamber made by Slytherin. There she fought the “ghost” of the heart’s former owner, a Darke Raven named Reavus.

The heart itself turned out to be unusable. The heart contained too much evil to be kept by her, so in the end she turned it over to Professor Dumbledore to be disposed of. She did, however, gain a pure Raven’s heart (to replace the shards of her old “heart” which she had left after she lost her original Raven’s heart in the battle that killed the original “Alicia Spinnet”), and along with that she gained a new Familyar Cloak and armor.

Thus it was in her now present jovial mood that she decided to help the “good” Professor when she heard of his problems, even if she hated him as much as Ron did.

She came to him while they were deciding what mental facility to lock him away in, and “reinvented him”. As far as he knew now? He was the heir of the world’s greatest line of magical hair care potions, and was now even more popular than he was as a self serving braggart because he apparently had some real skill in the art of hair care (who would have thought it?) He was now one of the greatest of hair fashion experts in the magical world.

Still, to think how long that source of pure evil laid untapped -- the Darke Raven power hidden beneath Hogwarts -- it was lucky that it didn’t fall into the wrong hands. Though at times she wonders if she hadn’t unleashed a worst evil upon the world the day she made Gilderoy Lockhart the king of hair care potions.

Suddenly she felt something brush against the back of her mind. Chii was home.

Chii, her Raven familyar she used for message delivery, was wandering out while she was doing her homework. With a slight wave of her hand she popped open the window for Chii to let herself in, only to realize that Chii wasn’t alone. There were more “life forces” with her, and they were all following closely behind. Before she could react they all flew in together, three owls (two of them holding the third) flew right up to her and dropped the third owl practically on her lap much to her disagreement. Almost immediately she recognized the owl as Errol, the owl that belonged to the Weasleys.

“Aren’t you worst for wear today.” she muttered, untying the cords around the owl’s legs, removing the parcel, then carrying Errol to Chii’s resting area so he could drink some water and catch it’s breath.

“Next time bring home a boyfriend, not a half dead associate.” Alicia grumbled, turning her attention to the other owls. The two were handsome tawny owls. One was there just for help (apparently recruited enroute), the other however had a package and a letter bearing the official Hogwarts insignia so it wasn’t a great stretch of the imagination to guess who sent that one. When Alicia relieved this owl of it’s burden, it gave an air of great importance (ruffling it’s feathers), stretched it’s wings, and took off through the window with the other owl following right behind it. Just as well since Alicia wasn’t very fond of owls as companions to begin with.

“Why must everything be delivered by owl? I know the Postal Service is a pain but REALLY!!” she grumbled, turning her attention back to the packages (noticing that Chii had dropped a Gem Tesseract gem on the bed meaning it was carrying mail of it’s own). First things first, the mail that almost sent Errol to bird heaven.

She carefully removed the paper, finding a present wrapped in gold and a birthday card. Alicia sighed, remembering that she told people her birthday was in the Summer (another truth, if only in a sense) mostly because she’d figured nobody would remember it while on holiday. Her mistake.

She mildly popped open the card with little interest, only to find two pieces of paper within. One was a letter, the other a newspaper clipping. The clipping came from The Daily Prophet and the picture was moving (as all the pictures in the Prophet did). She read the clipping.

MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE

“Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.

A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, “We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank.”

The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.”

The picture was rather quaint by Alicia’s standards. It was a moving photo of all nine of the Weasleys waving furiously at her, standing in front of a large pyramid. Quaint. For laughs she flipped it over to read the back of the page.

ROGUE ANIMAGIUS ESCAPES FROM AZKABAN

“Authorities are stymied as to how it occurred, but during the escape of now wanted fugitive Sirius Black, an unknown Animagius (identity unknown) escaped from Azkaban Fortress.

The Animagius, whose transformed form baffled members of the Ministry of Magic, seemed to have been some sort of throwback to the dinosaurs but yet different. Enhanced with Muggle technology of a type never seen before, this strange entity was only identified by the Ministery of Magic as “a being of particular interest” and nothing more.

While it’s present whereabouts are unknown, authorities assured the press that it seemed to rather enjoy it’s solitary confinement at Azkaban and didn’t seem interested in being near anyone (wizard or Muggle). This, assures the Ministry of Magic means most likely the missing Animagius went into hiding in seclusion. Further information on it seems…”

“No picture?” she sighed, wishing Ron had just mailed the entire page instead of the clipping. Too late, and since the paper was abit old it was unlikely she’d ever find the paper in question with the rest of the article (which might have contained a picture).
The letter, of course, was from Ron.

Dear Licca, Happy Birthday!
(Alicia frowned whenever Ron insisted on calling her “Licca”).

“Thanks for smoothing things out with the Muggles earlier. I asked Dad, and he reckons I shouldn’t have shouted.”

(‘No duh!’)

“It’s amazing here in Egypt. Bill’s taken us around all the tombs and you wouldn’t believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Mum wouldn’t let Ginny come in the last one. There were all these mutant skeletons in there, of Muggles who’d broken in and grown extra heads and stuff.”

“I couldn’t believe it when Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred galleons! Most of it’s gone on this trip, but they’re going to buy me a new wand for next year.”

“Thank god.” Alicia sighed, hoping that they’d replace that deathtrap of a wand Ron had last year. If they didn’t, she was since she didn’t want to place her life in the hands of a person with such a faulty wand!

“We’ll be back about a week before term starts and we’ll be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you there?”

(‘Of course since I’m already here.’ she thought to herself.)

“Don’t worry, I won’t make the same mistake twice with the Muggles.

See you at Diagon Alley, (signed Ron)

P.S. Percy’s Head Boy. He got the letter last week.”

“Must mean he’s the most insufferable jerk in the world right now.” Alicia concluded, putting the letter aside. Sure enough the photo from Egypt showed he was wearing his “Head Boy” badge already (atop the fez he wore on his head). With that Alicia turned to the present and unwrapped it. Inside was the casing of an old style pocket watch (large and a full handful), with another note from Ron beneath it.

“Licca -- here’s the old thing you wanted. I don’t know why you’d want such a thing as a birthday present, but here it is. Bye. (signed Ron)”

Alicia smiled as she took her new Raven’s “Heart” from a secret tesseract pouch in her Raven costume (which she kept hung up in her room as a piece of decoration since she presently was “off duty” during her summer holiday) and placed the crystal against the case. It slowly phased into the metal, changing the watch into a Raven’s Mantle Amulet, which she attached to her uniform. The watch began ticking the moment the Heart went into place, clicking softly as Alicia put it away.

There, she now had a proper Raven’s Amulet to go with her uniform and new Familyar Cloak. She was now, once again, an “official” Raven in spirit at least though she was still in exile. Still, it was the small victories that mattered these days so she was happy.

But it was the next package that really made her happy, mostly because it was from Hermione. It was held within the tesseract gem that Chii brought, and she remembered that she gave Harry, Ron and Hermione a few each for just such an occasion.

For the longest time she held onto it, feeling rather giddy and chipper as she hugged her package and wouldn’t let go. Finally she managed to pry it loose from her own grip so she could open the card (cute) and letter that came with it.

Dear Alicia,

“Ron wrote to me and told me about his phone call to Harry’s Uncle Vernon, I’m glad you were there to straighten things out.

I’m on holiday in France at the moment and I didn’t know how I was going to send this and Harry’s present --- what if they went and opened it at Customs? --- but thankfully Hedwig & Chii turned up! I bought your present in person before leaving for France from a friend, who is into the same things you are, but only had a chance to mail it to you just now. Sorry about that!”

‘Aw! How sweet!’

“Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago? I bet he’s learning loads. I’m really jealous --- the ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating.”

‘There she goes with the Mr. Spock talk again.’ Alicia thought to herself.

“There’s some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I’ve rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I’ve found out. I hope it’s not too long --- it’s two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for.”

‘Oh, sure, give Binns a heartattack with your essay. Hope he’s got his wand set to kick start his heart the minute he sees your scrollwork!!’

“Ron says he’s going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it?”

‘Would I miss seeing you again? No. So there.’

“I really hope you can make it. If not, I’ll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September the 1st. Don’t forget.

Love from (signed Hermione)”

Alicia takes a deep breath, and nearly smothers the letter. “If only she knew how much I’d wish she’d tell me that she loved ME---” (Warning - Alicia’s beginning to act all giddy and stuff! So much so that she doesn’t even read the PS on the letter, she’s too hot on the
“love” part.)

As she puts the letter aside (around 1AM in the morning) and picked up the present, she felt it had abit of weight on it. Knowing “Hermione-chan” (which was Alicia’s pet name for her, but NEVER to her face) it was probably a mega huge book of high level spells --- but it wasn’t. Alicia nearly jumped up as she pulled the paper back to reveal a case filled with a dozen metal spheres --- “Viewing Spheres” to be precise. Alicia had a whole bunch of these, which were sort of the magical version of DVD discs since (in a place like Hogwarts) normal human stuff like DVD Players couldn’t be used properly. Her entire sphere collection was all Anime, so she knew that Hermione had scored her another dozen Anime spheres (which she did).

It was, in the end, a cute present from a cute girl, so that really made Alicia’s day.

It was too late however to watch any, she’d just have to do it tomorrow. With that she checked to make sure they were bound with indestructible charms to make them sturdy, which they were, before she put them into her huge collection with the rest of her spheres.

The last parcel had untidy scrawling on it, which meant it was from Hadgrid (bless his soul). She tore off the top layer of paper and saw something green and leathery --- now here’s an odd twist. Hermione-chan, the bookworm, sends her fun spheres with Anime on them. While Hadgrid, the fun guy, sends her a book? Must be opposites day.

However before she could explore this further, the parcel quivered and snapped loudly --- Alicia looked at the package oddly. “A joke book?” (it did seem to snap) “---I didn’t think Hadgrid was that type of person---”

Well, then again Hadgrid did have a bit of an odd idea of what was “safe”, having had such dubious friends as giant flesh eating spiders and huge three headed dogs with a fondness for classical music.

She poked at the package with her fingers, only for it to snap again. Finally she simply tore the paper off and dropped onto her bed --- a book. That is all she could register before the book flipped onto it’s edge and tried to scuttle sideways along the bed like a weird looking
crab --- if she didn’t scream “HOLD IT!!” which brought it to a stop.

She grabbed the book, which struggled in her grip. It did indeed have “teeth”, and it was abit vicious, but it was soft too. The book was made of a soft leather which felt comfortable in the hands. Alicia forcefully rubbed it against her face (spine first) which, suddenly, had a strange effect over it. The book stopped struggling and began to calm. Taking this as a hint she rubbed it’s spine over and over again until the book opened, calmed.

With a slight grin on her face she flipped the now confused book over on it’s face and kept rubbing, bringing shrill little shrieks from it, at last finishing by leaning over and using her tongue on the spine to bring the book to a shuddering fit of shakes and cries before it fell
silent, docile and tamed, in her hands.

She then cast a “Forever Repeat” spell on the book. The book stopped noticing the outside world then and lived forever in that “pleasure” of the last few minutes which gripped it and excited slash soothed it forever and ever. Now she could safely open the book and read it at her leisure --- maybe tomorrow.

The letter was simple enough.

“Dear Licca,” (as hypocritical as it sounds, she only allows Hadgrid to call her Licca)

“Happy Birthday!

Think you’ll find this useful for next year. Won’t say no more here. Tell you when I see you.

Oh, before I forget! Professor Dumbledore wanted me to tell you that he destroyed that “thing” you gave him last year, so you shouldn’t worry about that anymore. I don’t know what he meant, but I’m sure you’ll tell me one day.

All the best, (signed Hadgrid)”

Somehow the thought of a biting book which had a fetish for people tickling it (and a real turn on for licking) being useful kind of escaped Alicia at this moment, but she took Hadgrid’s word that it would be useful and left it at that. After she put all the cards
together she just had to deal with the letter from Hogwarts last.

This was rather thicker than usual, so she was abit worried. As she pulled out the first page she read the following---

“Dear Miss Spinnet

Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave for King’s Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o’clock.

Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parents or guardian to sign.

A List of books for next year is enclosed.

Yours sincerely, (signed Professor M. McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress)”

Sure enough, there WAS a Hogsmeade permission form here.

And thus there was also a problem as well.

As much as the idea of traipsing off into town on the weekends sounded rather jolly (give Alicia more time to find gifts of affection for Hermione-chan), it also proved to be a task because she had no parents or guardians to sign this paper. Sure, she had people PRETENDING to be her folks, but if she allowed them to sign this they would be putting themselves under the microscope of scrutiny, scrutiny she didn’t want shined on them even if it was for her sake. So having them sign was definitely not do-able.

She looked over at the clock in her room, which showed it was now 2AM in the morning.

She finally gave up the ghost and went to bed, deciding that her problems might not look so big if she had a good sleep and tackled it with her morning breakfast.

But, for the first time in her life since she came here, she was glad she decided to tell people that she had a “birthday”. If only today, at least, she was glad.

To Be Continued this coming Sunday (and every Sunday thereafter)