Harry Potter 1. Chapter: The girl with golden eyes

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first story. I hope you like and please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!

**The dragon and the lioness**

Chapter one: The girl with golden eyes

Grey clouds covered the sky. Rain pattered the asphalt. Despite the nasty weather people attended to their daily work. Mike pushed himself surly through the crowd. King's Cross was as busy as ever: families hurried to the trains, taking care to hold their children together. Big groups of tourists hurried outside to get in the red Sightseeing-Buses and bankers in expensive suites forced their way through the colorful crowd …

It was the typical chaos and Mike wasn't interested anymore. He already worked sixteen years as a watchman in King's Cross and after all he now was the vicarious security chief. Mike knew exactly how to handle with the stressed mothers and the arrogant bankers. He knew them all.

But today it was different. Today it was the 1st September. Every year on exactly this day _they _arrived. Mike's gaze wandered through the crowd. There were three of them. Obviously they had tried to align themselves to the normal people. The women was wearing a blue dress and an elegant coat, her husband – Mike guessed they were married – a grey shirt and beige trousers. Their son had the same drab hair like them and was wearing black jeans, a blue T-Shirt and a baseball cap. He was telling his parents something and they looked at him proudly. At first sight they seemed to be just a normal family. But at second sight you see they had instead of bags and pockets just one big, battered bag made of brown leather on their baggage car. A black owl in a cage sat on top of it. And that was anything but normal.

When you connived about this fact especially their behavior attracted attention: their motions were self confident, their posture was straight. They seemed to be so _sure_ with themselves. As if they would know their place in the world despite their patently anomalousness. Mike had an idea: maybe it was this anomalousness that let them be so self confident.

Also Mike had noticed that they all know each other. Like they would all share a big secret. A so mighty secret no normal person could preserve it. In the last sixteen years Mike had the wish - no, the drive – to know this secret. And so his eyes never left the family for a second.

The cracking of his Walkie-Talkie forced him to break his eyes away from them. The voice of his chief ordered him to the station entrance where some teenagers shattered bottles and molested passersby. _'Why the hell couldn't you charge a normal watchman with that?!'_ Mike thought. But he could answer it himself. _'Because he is afraid that I get his job!' _Mike wanted to take a last look at the family, but they had completely disappeared ...

When Mike reached the scene the teenagers had already popped off. But not without leaving a sea of broken glasses behind them. Angrily Mike wiped the sweat with a handkerchief from his forehead. "Always this young people, deem that they had to protest against everything." Mike grumbled. He ordered the cleaning crew and wanted to go in again when he noticed a halting taxi. This was not something abnormal, but he recognized the taxi driver who was running – or no, it was more a fast stumbling – around the car and opened the door with a clumsy bow for his passenger. It was Rupert Stanley. Mike knew him because they visit the same pub and sometimes shared a evening beer. Rupert was the most unfriendly, uncultivated and money-mad person he had ever met. _'Who the hell is so important that Rupert wanted to seem friendly?'_

Long, lank legs in black Ankle Boots appeared and a dainty hand held fast onto the car door searching for hold. Then she alighted full. In a flash Mike's mouth got dry. She was … _exquisite_. Her body … _ was the one of a goddess_. And even though she was very young – Mike appraised she was 15 – she was already very feminine. She was slender but muscular like a model. She was still lightly bronzed and wearing a skin tight, black mini skirt. A black top flattered her torso. Over it she was wearing a grey jacket.

But the most astonishing was her face: It was that of a elf – absolutely perfect, with high cheekbones. A hardheaded feature around her mouth disclosed her deep will. This girl gets what she wants. Her eyes attracted all attention right away on them like two lodestones. Dense, black eyelashes framed them, and they had the color of pure gold – a color Mike had never seen before and will never see again. Fine, light angular standing eyebrows signalized her eyes extra. Her hair completed the picture: wild corkscrew curls came down above her shoulders, just subdued with a slender golden hair circlet. Their dark ebony tone seemed nearly black. Also her charisma was exceptional. And that was not just because of her looks. With every pore of her body she radiated poise and supremacy. From the first moment Mike knew she belonged to _them_.

Meanwhile Rupert got an elegant, big bag out of the car boot and placed it on one baggage car. The girl with the golden eyes carried a basket with a grey cat inside. Mike had noticed a long time ago that most of _them_ had owls, but also a lot had cats. Toads were more rare represented and he could understand that very well. It seemed like they did not have other animals, always just this three species.

Now she walked fast and unerring to the station entrance. Rupert followed her with clumsy steps. All people gazed after her, unbelieving and admiring, but also envious. Mike hurried quickly to follow them, but he had to stop because of a big group of tourists. When he passed the entrance she had already disappeared with her luggage. Only Rupert was standing there, idiotic and brainless grinning, with a lot of tip in his hand. Mike decided to enquire and walked towards him. "Hey Rupert, who was that?" "Hm? Oh, Mike!It's you!" he answered. "Nope, didn't see her ever before. She just said she wanted to KC. I tried to converse but … ." He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. Disappointed, Mike let his gaze wander through the crowd, but she had disappeared.


	2. Chapter: On the Hogwarts Express

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

~ Seneca

* * *

**JOYCE POV**

The Hogwarts Express was a read steam encased engine which arose nostalgic feelings in me I walked to an entrance. An old man with an red beard promptly took me off my beg when I began to heft it up the stairs. He must have noticed my perplexed facial expression because he said: "You don't have to care about that. But that isn't new!"

I disliked his peeved intonation. What occurs him to talk to me in this way? Was that the manner which expected me in Hogwarts? If yes, I will leave right away.

Still offended took my cat carrier and entered.

It was the hell, to put it into simple words.

Bursting full, and the others were bumping me with their cages with cheeping owls, or whatever you call this annoying sound, and the hissing cats. All pupils jostled to reach a empty section, screaming something to their friends over the other heads. The pure chaos.

Nearly at the end of the train I found an empty section. I felt relieved, closed the slide door, put down the cat carrier and sinked on a seat next to the window. Just in the moment I leaned back the the slide door opened again.

A 14-year old girl with long, disheveled blond hair and lightly bulging eyes entered. She was wearing unshapely glasses in form of two hearts, a chain made of butterbeer corks and her wand plugged behind her left ear. Also she kept a paper named _The Quibbler _clutched and stared at me unembarrassed. After closing the door quickly, she sat down across me without asking if she was allowed to.

"My name's Luna. Luna Lovegood.", she introduced herself.

"I'm Joyce. Nice to meet you."

And I really meant it. Despite her … well, yes, crazy appearance I liked her in a way. She was definitely abnormal, even under us magical persons; but at the same time she seemed to be very refreshing. And she reminded me of a coltish puppy.

"I haven't seen you before. Where do you come from?", Luna asked me.

"My parents have to travel a lot 'cause of their jobs. So they decided I should move to London to live at my aunt's house so I have someone around in case of and illness or if I should have some problems.", I explained.

It was right, my parents are more in foreign countries than at home. And to be exactly, they even feel more at home at their workplace in Egypt or Mexico or however they are than at our old house in Sweden. I hardly see them for more than three months a year. But the real reason for my move to London was the death of my grandmother only a few weeks ago.

Luna looked at me. "I think you will be in Gryffindor."

"How do you want to know?"

"Just a feeling. You won't be an Hufflepuff. And Ravenclaw doesn't fit with you. The colors don't fit with you. Gryffindor has your colors!"

I had to laugh. Luna was not only refreshing, but also funny and intelligent.

The blond girl gave me a inquiring look towards the cat carrier, and when I nodded she open it in a second and hold my cat in her arms while sitting back. "She's a cutie, isn't she?"

When I wanted to comment on this, the slide door was opened by a red-haired girl

"Hi Luna. How was your summer?", she greeted and nodded to me friendly. "I am Ginny. Can we sit with you two?"

Luna just nodded without answering the question about her summer holiday; she was too busy to read _The Quibbler_ up side down. Obviously this was normal for her because the red-haired girl didn't seem to mind and sat down next to her. A boy with a round face appeared slowly in the door case, pushed more or less voluntarily by a black-haired boy with glasses.

"Don't be silly, Neville! Come in, please.", Ginny said.

Neville muttered something about _I don't want to disturb anyone_ and pressed himself on the seat next to her. The other boy entered and sat down beside me. It was Harry Potter, and for a split second I was speechless. Which was quite similar to his reaction when he looked at me: his mouth stayed open and he eyed me with blatant interest. Ginny cleared her throat and the moment was over. I could see that her eyes got a little bit darker.

The engine started with a jerk; Harry picked up courage finally and introduced himself and also Neville. I followed his example.

"You are new, aren't you?", Harry asked friendly.

I told him what I had told Luna before. "And which school did you visit?", he went into it.

"Durmstrang.", I answered.

Ginny and Neville looked at me open-mouthed, Harry with shock in his eyes. Only Luna still concentrated on her reading.

"And do you … Did you learn … eh, dark arts? Well, I … ", stammered Neville and gave Harry a helpless glance, who thought about his question more carefully, not wanting to say anything … _false_.

"We didn't see you last year. You know, at the Triwizard Tournament."

"Just because Karkaroff didn't want us girls to go with them. He wanted to represent Durmstrang as strong and thought the presence of female students would reduce this.", I replied.

I didn't had the intention to tell more, so I took _The Daily Prophet_ out of my purse and immersed myself in it to signalize this.

The countryside changed; a soft extensive, hilly landscape has given way to deep forests and pure blue lakes. The engine crossed a bridge when the slide door was opened again. I looked up and saw a read-haired boy with lots of freckles, who had to be Ginny's brother, and a girl with bushy brown hair entering the section. They sat down and looked at me curious.

"I'm Joyce."

"Ron and Hermione.", the girl said.

Both still looked at me, but Harry shook his head impalpably. He had understood I didn't want to talk. So Hermione and Ron told him all about the other prefects. First I listened but when their conversation turned to their holiday I began to read an interesting seeming article and only listened with half an ear.  
When the slide door was opened the third time, I didn't look up anymore.

"So, who's there?", a cold voice asked.

"What do you want, Malfoy?", Harry asked aggressive.

"Not so cheeky! Well, Potter, how does it feel when you are second best behind Weasley and a mudblood?"

I looked up. And saw the sexiest guy I have had ever seen. He had slickly blond hair and was wearing a black suit. His skin was bright and his gray eyes looked estimating at Harry and his friends.

In my opinion, Purebloods have a higher standing than descents from muggles, even if they are just half half. But your blood-background doesn't influence your magical talent immensely. And I didn't find it okay – absolutely not – to call someone a mudblood. I got up and threw back my dark curls. Malfoy looked at me in amazement.


End file.

Harry Potter, Adventure, Romance