"Shall we find a compartment, then?" asked Harry.

"We're… well… Ron and I are supposed to go into the prefect carriage," said Hermione.

"Oh, right. Fine."

"Harry, it'll be alright," said Ginny. "Come on, we'll find a carriage and they can catch up."

"Yeah," said Ron. "It's not like we want to, well, we want to be prefects, but we don't want to be in that carriage instead of, well, with you. I mean, I'm not Percy."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"No one's accusing you of being a prat, Ron. Now come on, we don't want to be late."

Hermione and Ron went forward, while Harry, Ginny, and Etna went backwards into the train. Harry couldn't decide if they were staring at him, because of the Daily Prophet, or at Etna because she was, supposedly, an American. His eventual conclusion was, "maybe a little bit of both."

In the last carriage was a puffing Neville Longbottom.

"Hi Harry, Hi Ginny… err… hi," he said, looking at Etna.

"Etna de Malebolge. I'm an American transfer student from New Salem. And you are?"

"Neville. Neville Longbottom. Harry, everywhere's full, I can't find a seat."

"What about right here?" asked Ginny. "There's room here, it's only Loony Lovegood."

Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone.

"Did you say 'Lovegood?'" asked Etna.

"Yeah. She's odd, but alright. Why?"

"Ron mentioned talking with her. I've always found it interesting to meet people with interesting points of view."

Ginny was silent as she opened the door.

"Hi Luna, is it okay if we take these seats?"

She looked at the four people wishing entrance into the compartment, then nodded, her eyes finally resting on Harry.

"Had a good summer, Luna?" asked Ginny as the four of them sat down.

"Yes," said Luna, not taking her eyes off Harry. "Yes, it was quite enjoyable. You're Harry Potter."

"I know I am," said Harry.

Neville chuckled. Luna turned to him.

"I've seen you before, but I don't know who you are."

"I'm nobody," murmured Neville.

"No you're not," said Ginny. "Neville Longbottom - Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."

"Wit beyond measure is man's great treasure," said Luna in a singsong voice. She turned to Etna. "And I don't recognize you at all."

"Etna de Malebolge, American Transfer student," said Etna. "I've heard about the Lovegoods prior to this, however. Ron had interesting things to say about you."

"I imagine so," she replied. "I believe my father is interested in writing an article on you. Just why are you here?"

"My parents were English wizards who were killed in the war, but they had some muggle friends looking after me. As near as I've been able to find out, I was left to them for my own safety, and they left for America to escape the war. A few years later, they were killed in a car crash, and I was put into the American foster care system. I received my letter, started at New Salem, and took an interest in finding out who my parents really were. I got that much of the story through correspondence with the American Department of Magic and the British government, but I've hit a brick wall with the Ministry of Magic and Gringotts. They need papers signed in blood in front of witnesses and that sort of thing, so the Headmistress over at New Salem had me transferred across the pond."

"A fascinating story," said Luna. "I'm certain the Quibbler would be very interested in running an expose on the truth."

"Oh, I'm more than certain," replied Etna. She turned to Harry. "I like her. Can I keep her?"

"No," replied Harry.

"Sadly, slavery has been outlawed by Wizarding Law since 1954. Mind you, it's been outlawed by Muggle Law in the United Kingdom since 1833…" said Luna, drifting off. "One has wonder the implications of that upon a society, to be one hundred years behind another. Granted, America abolished slavery in 1865, and because of the structure of the American Department of Magic, it followed suit with only a fair bit of grumbling."

"Humph," replied Etna. With that, the door to the compartment slid open.

"Hello, Harry," said a nervous voice.

"Hi, Cho," said Harry, bolting upright.

She surveyed the compartment, with Luna staring at her upside-down quibbler, Neville looking anxious for some reason or another, Ginny eyeing her for some reason or another, and a girl she didn't recognize sitting next to Harry.

"I… I just wanted to say hello," she said. "Bye then." The door closed and she was gone.

"Interesting," said Etna, looking at Ginny.

"What?" asked Ginny.

"You can learn so much about people's reactions by looking at them," said Etna. She glanced at Luna. "You don't like that girl, do you Luna?"

"I'm afraid my house and I have differences of opinion."

"That a nice way of saying they don't like you?"

"I suppose it is," said Luna. "But, I think, the more important question is do I care whether they like me or not?"

"I definitely like you. So what's your opinion on the girl that just stopped by?"

"Cho Chang," supplied Luna. "She was very interested in Cedric, before he died." Luna cocked her head in thought for a moment, and looked at Harry. "I imagine since she came all the way to the last car, she is likewise interested in you. I do hope you don't die, you seem rather fascinating."

"I'll try not to," replied Harry, looking at his hands.

There was silence in the car, as Ginny glared at Etna, Luna raised her magazine once more, and Neville sat and looked confused.

"So… Neville was it?," said Etna, getting a feel for her cabin mates. "I'm trapped here with you for the next few hours, tell me about yourself."

"Buh?"

"I said 'tell me about yourself.' That means say something about yourself. Especially when a girl does it. This is an important life skill for a boy, so get some practice!"

"I'm good with plants?"

"Nevermind," said Etna.

An hour passed in silence and discomfort, broken only by the food cart.

The door opened again, this time Hermione and Ron stepping inside. Ron flopped onto the bench between Harry and Etna, while Hermione sat next to Luna, but with as much distance between them as possible.

"I'm starving," said Ron, biting off the head of a chocolate frog. With a quick discussion of the merits of the various new prefects and the Quibbler (which amused both Ginny and Etna to no end), the door opened a third time to reveal a boy with blonde hair, flanked by two half-trolls.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention. You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"This is Malfeasance, or whatever his name is?" asked Etna.

"It's Malfoy. And just who are you?"

"Etna de Malebolge, proud owner of a far more awesome last name than you."

"The American," spat Malfoy. "I imagine we'll be running into each other a fair bit as well, no matter what house you wind up in."

"Careful now, or I'll end up in yours. What'll you do then?"

"Like you could ever meet the standards to be in my house."

Etna leaned forward, looking at the two boys behind Draco.

"You sure about that? Because I'm amazed those two can stand upright, let alone get an education."

"The purity of their blood is the standard they are held to," replied Draco.

"Oh, so it's a matter of inbreeding," said Etna. "That just makes me even happier that I'm an orphan. Run along before I have an actual urge to hurt you."

"Do you have any idea who my father is?"

"Nope," replied Etna, glancing at her finger nails. She breathed on them, and buffed them on her shirt. "I'm very sorry, but I am from America, which means I am an uncouth barbarian. The names and faces of high society are beyond me. As I recall, we Americans attempted to outlaw foreign titles for our citizens in order to tell people such as yourself to fuck off and die."

"I should have you in detention for a month for that insult," said Draco.

"Insult you? I insulted you? Why would I need to? You're an insult to your species as it is. Telling you that is a public service," said Etna, not looking up.

Draco started drawing his wand, only to find Etna's under his nose.

"You keep drawing, and they'll be scraping you off the walls."

"I'll teach you your place, bitch."

Etna grinned.

"I welcome you to try."

Draco stepped back, and looked at Harry.

"And I'll be dogging your steps all year long, Potter. You can be sure of that." With that, he escaped back up the train.

"Were you trying to provoke him?" asked Luna, glancing over the top of her quibbler.

"Yeah. I was hoping for something to ease the boredom, but I guess I'm losing my touch."

"Hmm. Given Draco's temper, I would likely blame Uksprogs. They cause a calming affect to prevent injury to their natural habitat."

"And just what is their 'natural habitat'?" asked Hermione.

"Hair with to much product in it. I imagine he got the infestation from his father."

Ron giggled at that.

"How'd the twins describe Lucius? A French Pornographer?" asked Ginny.

"His dad's name is Lucius?" asked Etna. "No wonder the kid's got problems."

"Trust me Harry, you aren't crazy. Only special people can see the zombie horses."

"Well now, it's not often I find a demon under my brim."

Aw, I'm not your first?

The Hat chuckled.

"No, a rather memorable succubus was my first, back in the 1300s. I sorted her into Gryffindor. You on the other hand… hmm, no, you don't have the right insanity for Gryffindor. I'm not even going to consider Ravenclaw, but Slytherin… oh, you have ambition and cunning to spare, young lady."

That obvious, huh?

"Oh, yes. You'll backstab and double-cross just about anyone to get what you want. Everyone except the ones you trust. You'll stand by them until the end, won't you? Sorry, no Slytherin for you. Besides, you have to admit, no one expects the demon to be in HUFFLEPUFF!"

"How did you get sorted into Hufflepuff?" asked Hermione in the hallways. "I expected you to be in Slytherin."

"I think the hat didn't want a bloodbath."

"Pity," said Ron. "So it dumped you in Hufflepuff?"

"Nah, the hat just thought I wasn't crazy enough to be in Gryffindor."

"What?" asked Hermione.

"Sorry, I'll tell you later," and walked past Hermione and Ron, and onwards into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Once there, she sat with Susan Bones. Silence reigned until everyone was seated.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said.

"Good afternoon" was the half-hearted reply.

"Tut, tut. That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," most chanted back at her. Etna remained silent.

"There, now. That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

Etna pulled out a purple fountain pen with platinum trimmings.

Professor Umbridge tapped her own short wand against the blackboard, and began to lecture them on the deficiencies of their previous professors. Etna began to write out the passage with the pen.

"Excuse me, what is your name, miss?"

"Etna de Malebolge," said Etna, placing her pen back on her desk as she finished.

"I said quills out, Miss de Malebolge."

"Is there a problem with me using a fountain pen?" asked Etna. "I apologize, but as an American student, I never learned to use a quill."

Umbridge made a humph noise. Susan furrowed her brow. She recalled Etna using a quill in potions not an hour before.

"I suppose in your ignorance, I can excuse you this once. Endeavor to learn how to use a quill, Miss de Malebolge. Fountain pens will not be allowed on the OWLs. Please borrow one from a neighbor. I will be taking your pen," said Professor Umbridg with a smile..

"I am quite capable of putting away a pen," said Etna, capping it and placing it in her bag.

"No, dear. I said I will be taking your pen," Professor Umbridge replied, her smile getting only wider.

"And I said I'm putting it away, because I don't want to lose it."

"Are you suggesting I will lose your possession?" Umbridge's head leaned to one side.

"Suggesting? No. I just don't trust you."

"I am a Professor of this institution. Why wouldn't you trust me?"

"Because I don't trust anybody with it, except the person who gave it to me."

" Accio Pen," said Umbridge with a wave of her wand. " Accio Bag, " she said again, and found that not even the strap of the bag moved.

"Anti-summoning charm," supplied Etna with practiced ease.

Professor Umbridge narrowed her eyes, and walked up to Etna's desk, picking up the bag.

"I wouldn't," said Etna, leaning back in her seat, with her hands behind her head.

Umbridge touched the clasp of the bag. Terror - raw, bowel-loosening, run-the-fuck-away-screaming terror took hold of Umbridge as she threw the bag across the room and ran screaming out the door.

"What did you do?" asked Susan, as Etna flicked her wand, and a burst of wind threw her bag back across the room.

"Terror ward on the clasp," replied Etna, opening her bag. "I just ignore it." She picked through the contents, and examined the pen in question. She returned it to its place, and then closed the bag. "Stupid bitch didn't even realize it was there until it hit her."

"Terror ward? You aren't even in ancient runes."

"That's cause you guys learn Norse and Celt. There's more languages than those two, and I don't feel like learning a new one. Besides, every Dark Arts teacher I've had before knew my bag was warded from the first day."

"She should have?" asked Ernie, a seat in front of them.

"If she was any good, yeah. Snape noticed it when I walked into potions."

"Was that why he held you after class?" asked Susan. "I thought it was because you were a friend of Harry's."

Etna shrugged.

"He asked me a few questions about it. McGonagall was annoyed by it, and Flitwick was fascinated by it, too."

"So… you're a friend of Harry's, right?" asked Ernie.

"I guess."

"Do you know anything about what happened at the end of last year?"

"What, the whole Voldemort thing?" She smiled as the others flinched at the name, but nodded. "Yeah, I asked Harry about it. Cedric was killed with a killing curse from Voldemort. Voldemort underwent a ritual to bring back his body, then summoned his Death Eaters and tried to duel Harry. Instead of sticking around to be killed, Harry grabbed Cedric's body and ran for it."

"So you believe him?" asked Ernie.

"That portkey had to go somewhere, and people don't just drop dead of an Avada Kedava of their own volition. You have a better explanation?" Etna looked at each of her new housemates in turn. "I didn't think so."

"You know, Albus warned us about you," said Pomona Sprout. "Told us you were a demon and how you were summoned to kill… to kill… you-know-who."

Etna was seated across from her, hands clasped on her lap, looking moderately innocent. Pomona had a half-empty bottle of vodka sitting on her desk, and a half-full glass in her hand.

"He said you would likely be source of headaches, no matter what house you wound up in."

"I imagine I'm source for him, as well," said Etna, almost trying to be helpful. Pomona stared at Etna for a moment, and then emptied the glass.

"The amount of trouble you have caused…" Pomona closed her eyes and took a depth breath. When she opened them, she poured herself another glass. "You're been given a detention for the rest of the week. That bitch isn't someone to just annoy."

"I wasn't going to give up my pen."

"Your pen?"

"It was given to me by my lord. He signed my contract as his vassal with it, and gave me that pen."

"He's the reason you're in my house, isn't it? Your loyalty to him."

"That's what the hat said."

"I just hope some of that loyalty goes over to Potter. Merlin knows he needs it."