Wait! Just hear me out! It was exam week! And the week before that was studying for exam week! So what's a poor girl like me gonna do? I promise that my next update will be much sooner.

Acknowledgments: Thank you so much for the reviews! They're very encouraging, and I'm glad you like what I've done so far. Maybe if I'm lucky you'll like this chapter too... ) And thank you to my beta SerpentsAttire and her brilliant suggestions. X)

Disclaimer: I am but a kid, who plays in the garden of J.K Rowling's imagination.

Chapter 2: The Truth About Dwarfs

"This way please, Miss," said Toby Gentil, pushing the cart forward hurriedly, trying to clear a path admist the hustle and bustle of both muggles and wizards in the train station at King's Cross. "I do believe this year we're going to miss that blasted train."

Eloise smiled and shook her head disbelievingly. "I swear you say that every single time Toby, and yet we still always manage to make it."

He looked at her in mock disbelief. "Miss! How could you? Now that you've jinxed it, we're sure to miss it! We're gonna have to make a dash for it!" He took her by the hand and ran forward, the cart rattling madly, causing people to look around and stare.

She laughed in protest, and tried her best to keep up with his long legs and the overloaded cart. For the first time in a long time, she didn't care about what the other people around her thought. She was so relieved to get out of the house, to get away from her mother's watchful glare, away from the awkward silences, away from the useless rules of being well mannered. She was finally going back to school where she could sink back into her classes, sink back to being invisible, and most of all, see Harry Potter after three whole months of waiting.

Only just realizing they had reached their destination, Toby screeched to a stop, and so did Eloise in turn, still breathless from running and laughing at the same time.

They both leaned casually against the barrier and dissapeared from sight of the undisturbed muggles.

Despite the fact that she had been doing this for four years now, Eloise still held up her hands and closed her eyes and the sight of the incoming brick wall of the barrier and only opened them when she heard the welcoming sound of the exited voices of the students, ready for the start of the new term.

The familiar black and red train was the first thing to occupy her vision, the gold letters 'Hogwarts Express' shining in the newfound light. She closed her eyes, savoring the tangeled emotions of exitement, freedom, nervousness, relief, all balled up into one tight knot at the center of her stomach.

He must already be here, she thought, as the train is about to leave, her eyes searching the crowds. There were so many people. Standing on her tiptoes, she impatiently tried to see through the groups of friends and family hugging each other goodbye.

Anxiety gripped her. What if he had been restrained from coming back from the Ministry and parents? That would mean she would never see him again! Unless she somehow managed to find out where he lived... But even that possibility was a bleak one.

"Nice dog, Harry!" called Lee Jordan, who was standing a few feet away from her.

She turned slowly in the direction that Lee's voice had been aimed at.

Her breath caught in her throat.

There he was. He was just as she had remembered him, with the exception of his face being a bit more angular, his hair a little shorter. He was wearing typical muggle attire, blue navy jeans and a loose grey sweatshirt. Around him were assembled quite a lot of people: Ron and Hermione of course, with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the infamous Fred and George, their DADA teacher from fourth year Professor Moody, their DADA teacher from third year Professor Lupin, a woman who looked to be in her early twenties with bright purple hair, and a big black bearlike dog who stuck to Harry like glue.

'Why are both of our Defense Against the Dark Arts professors with him at the station?' she wondered. 'Could it be because they are here to protect the other students from him? Will they be following him around all school year like guards?'

But her fears were quickly reconciled when everyone, with the exception of Moody, Ron and Hermione, turned to give Harry a hug goodbye. Even his dog reared up majestically on his hind legs to bid him farewell before Mrs. Weasley pushed him off.

Feeling slightly envious at the amount of people gathered there around him, she looked back at Toby who had just gotten back from loading her luggage onto the train. She smiled fondly at his black but now streaked with tufts of gray mustache, his huge muscular arms that had lifted her up in the air so many times when she was little, the small bald patch on the top of his head that everyday he applied a thick layer of sun protection salve on, even in the middle of winter.

As the conductor called for everyone to start boarding, Toby gruffly envelopped her into a hug. She pressed her nose deep into his warm woolen jacket and sighed contently. She remembered earlier that day when Ben had handed her a small bouquet of the first tulips that season, Mrs. Boulanger's tearful goodbye as she stuffed as many baked goods she could fit in her bag for the trip and all the waiters and waitresses lined up in the living room, waving frantically as she and Toby had stepped into the fireplace.

In reality, she had nothing to be envious of, she realized. Although not present, she knew all the servants of the Midgen Mansion were thinking of her now, as the clock overheard struck eleven.

Climbing onto the train, she looked back only once at Toby, who raised his hand in farewell, before turning to her usual compartment on the train.

All the upper class girls had always chose to reside in the front four compartments in the train, located closest to the refreshments and bathrooms. Several charms had been cast by some of the older girls to make these compartments considerably more comfortable and luxurious than the others. In her first year she had sat there with the others there, but after the first year had gone by, she knew they wanted her to disappear from their group as much as she did.

Eloise went immediately to compartment 5, careful to make sure to keep the doors from banging shut so as to not attract the unwanted attention of others. The compartment, due to a Weasley experiment gone awry, hadn't been occupied for quite some time, and she had been going there ever since second year. True, it did smell rather strongly of burnt cabbage, and there was a slight blue tinge to the windows, but it was a place to obtain the invisibility in which she so desperately sought.

She reclined gratefully on the compartment seat, propping her back up against the wall and looked outside at the fast passing lush green hills of the english countryside and the cows grazing peacefully on them. The bright sun streamed through the windows, making her eyes droop, and her body relax.

"... my mother was gone to Italy all summer, no doubt having affairs with lots of handsome italian men." Laughter sounded within the adjoining compartment.

"Well, my mother spends all of her time at the Ministry. She's very close to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," came the voice of Prissy Andrews.

Eloise sat up straighter, her curiosity aroused. Prissy knew who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was? What strange and unusual teacher would it be this year to take the so called cursed job? She pressed her ear harder against the wall.

"So... you know who it will be then?" squeaked a voice she didn't recognize, undoubtedly someone in the younger years.

"Of course I do," Prissy said in her superior voice. "I've even met her on more than one occasion."

Silence ensued, and Eloise could almost feel the heightening suspense. After what seemed like forever, Anne said, "Well... who is it?"

More silence, and she could almost see Prissy leaning back, smiling contently, enjoying her power over her audience of girls.

"Her name is Dolores Umbridge, but most people know her as the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."

Several people gasped. "The Senior Undersecretary to the Minister as our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor? But... But..." said Rebecca, shocked.

"But what?" replied Prissy. "Do you honestly think that Dumbledore will be Headmaster at the school much longer? Or that stupid idiot of a gamekeeper? Sooner or later the school will be under the rightful control of the Ministry. Now is the time to show where our true loyalties lie."

"She's right," said the voice of Marietta Edgecomb. "My parents said we should do all we can to help Professor Umbridge feel welcome at Hogwarts. She will be staying there for what the Ministry hopes to be quite a while. If we cooperate, then we may be able to get placed somewhere important in the Ministry to maintain the family status."

Murmurs errupted, only to stop when Jasmine Ashe said loudly, "I don't believe that after this long Professor Dumbledore will just step aside and let the Ministry take over. And what about Harry Potter? Yes, supposedly he's gone mental, but he's still the wizarding world's hero isn't he? The Ministry can't overule that."

Prissy Andrews laughed, a high pitched girly shriek. "Harry Potter? I'd give it a week before he's shipped off to St. Mungos." Another laugh.

"Indefinitely."

Eloise shivered, and pulled her dark red jacket over her shoulders. Suddenly, there seemed to be no more sun shinning through the windows, only ominous gray clouds. Removing her ear from the wall, she quickly got up to move to the other side of the compartment. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the sound of their inchoative chatter and instead mull over the information she had just received.

'Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister is to become the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?!' she thought in shock.

She had heard the name often enough at the dining room table, her mother never failed to sing her praises should the right moment arise. But it had been quite some time since her last encounter with the woman... Six years in fact...

"I'm so glad you had the time to join us, Dolores. You must be so busy at the Ministry these days," simpered Mrs. Midgen.

"Thank you Dorithea," replied Umbridge. "Things have been rather rough it's true, but I simply had to attend one of your monthly knitting meetings, I do so enjoy the activity. Why," she said, putting down her teacup and gesturing to the pink wooly cardigan she had on, "I just made this myself about three weeks ago."

All the women immediately flocked to her side, examining it while endless complements flowed from their mouths.

"It's so elaborate," observed Mrs. Lavish. "So carefully woven together! And of course you look simply ravishing in it."

There were many words that came to mind, looking at Umbridge in her pink cardigan, but ravishing was definitely not one of them. She reminded Eloise more of a gigantic salmon, her large beady eyes darting around until they found an appropriate subject, which then they would fix themselves on unblinkingly.

She noticed with a start, that those eyes had found hers, and she was being intensly scrutinized by the salmo- Umbridge. It made her feel on the whole, rather sick.

Quickly she looked away, and tried instead to focus on the blue violet colored mittens that were magically being knitted by one of the other women seated beside her on the couch imprinted with hydrangea flowers.

Albert Nain came forward, his small figure almost toppling over under the big tea tray bearing more cups and a fresh pitcher of mango tea. Following tradition, he went straight over to the guest of honor, Umbridge, to offer her the first refill.

At first she did not notice him, as he barely reached the top of the table. But when the other womens' gazes were averted, she looked down too. Upon seeing his miniscule form holding up the porcelain glass she smiled widely, so you could see every single one of her perfectly white teeth glisten in the sun, before accepting it.

Albert went around the table refilling everyone's glass, stopping last at Eloise, with her being the youngest. Trying to cheer her up from her obvious boredom he whispered, "Tonight's story will be 'The Truth About Being a Mermaid', just in case you wanted to know."

"What's it about?" she whispered back, trying to contain her excitement.

He winked, and disappeared through one of the endless doors leading out of the room.

The Truth About Being a Mermaid? Did an actual mermaid write it, or was it just another one of those books by wizards to make you sympathize more with another species? Or maybe it was a metaphorical title like that time when-

"Eloise," said her mother through clenched teeth. "I believe Dolores is asking you a question."

She swallowed, and turned her attention to Umbridge the salmon, who had again put on her hideous and nerve wracking smile.

"I said dear, what did that servant say to you? I noticed that you were talking."

'Just exhale, and answer her question. You weren't doing anything wrong. Don't act like you just got caught with murder or something.'

"I... we... we were just talking about the story he's going to read to me tonight."

"Oh, how darling. Bedtime stories!," exclaimed Umbridge, as all the other women laughed. "Do you play together too? He is about your height. Why I believe my house elf is taller!" More laughter sounded throughout the room, as the women tried to contain themselves for fear of tea coming out of their noses.

Eloise didn't know what was pinker, her face or Umbridge's cardigan. Why did she have to make bedtime stories sound so infantile? It wasn't as though she couldn't read, she just liked hearing Albert's calm and reassuring voice before falling asleep. And so what if Albert was small? That was only because-

"Albert," she said, emphasizing the name Albert and not servant, "is only short because he's half dwarf."

Umbridge gasped, as if Eloise had uttered the most vile and rude word known to mankind, before turning to Mrs. Midgen.

"Is this true?" she asked, her eyes rapidly approaching the size of goose eggs.

For once, Eloise's mother seemed confused.

"That the servant is part dwarf?" she inquired. Dorithea nodded her head. "Why... yes, it is true."

Umbridge's eyes were now the size of ferris wheels and her jaw hang loosely by a thread.

"But... but... my dear, do you not know how dangerous dwarfs are?"

Dorithea's hand now covered her mouth, and she shook her head.

"Yes, oh yes. I wish you had consulted me first before hiring him. Why it was just last week at the Ministry where a couple adopted a dwarf orphan from an asylum and he set fire to their house. On purpose. Burnt them to a crisp in their beds."

"No!" exclaimed the others.

"And there was another case six months ago, over in Canada where a dwarf put a venomous tentacula in the well and an entire family died in agony before Ministry officials arrived."

"Well...," said Mrs. Midgen, now very flustered, "I've always had my qualms about hiring him of course, but he's a good worker and since he's so small he's able to do a lot of things other can't, like crawling underneath the dresser to dust off the floor but I never even imagined-" She was getting more and more agitated, picking up her cup several times only to put it back on the coaster without taking a sip.

"It's quite all right Dorithea, you simply didn't know. No one blames you," said Dolores Umbridge, patting her hand reassuringly. "It's not your fault he's a half breed. You simply dismiss him and there's no harm done."

"NO!"

Everyone looked up, surprised to see Eloise standing, almost as if they had forgotten she was there. She was shaking slightly, and her hands were clenched into small fists.

"Albert would never do such a thing! Ever! How can you judge an entire race on what one or two have done?! That's like saying all witches and wizards are mass murders like Sirius Black and You-Know-Who!"

Everyone gasped, and there was a sound of breaking china as Mrs. Edgecomb's teacup slipped from her hands at the mention of You-Know-Who.

"Eloise!" said Mrs. Midgen, scandalized, "Apologize to Dolores at once!"

Eloise felt dizzy. She almost always obeyed her mother and she never, ever, embarrassed her in public. That was the number one rule as far as her mother was concerned. Always maintain a respectable figure to society. And she had just broken it.

"No," she replied, surprised that her voice was even, despite the fact that her body was shaking like the hawaiian girl on the dashboard of Toby's muggle car.

"What did you say?" Dorithea hissed.

"I said NO!" yelled Eloise, and ran out the door, up the stairs two at a time, and into her room.

Not only had she slammed the door closed and took a couple deep breath did she calm down enough to walk over and sit on her bed.

She was going to get it, that was for sure. She could hardly imagine what sort of punishment she would receive for an outburst as big as that one, and in front of all her mother's high society friends no less. And that Umbridge woman. She would undoubtedly be confined to her room for the rest of the month and receive silent treatment from everyone, even the servants on her mother's request. Damn.

"But I don't regret it," she whispered. "Not for one second."

She stopped as a flash of silver caught her eye. A knitting needle slowly came from under the crack of her door to hover magically beside her. She stared, transfixed as it lowered herself until it was level with her hand, before plunging itself into the tip of her middle finger.

Eloise bit back a shriek as it sunk deeper and deeper, the blood dripping from it onto her clean white sheet.

Finally, it wrenched itself out and went back the way it came. She slowly got up from the bed and opened her door just in time to see fly into Umbridge's outstretched hand.

Eloise opened her eyes at the sound of the frantic running around, all the students hurriedly trying to to get their luggage assembled. She glanced down at her watch. They were due to arrive soon, and it was definitely time to start changing before turning to get her baggage ready.

She lifted up her right hand to pull on her robes, unable to help but to glance at the small, circle-shaped white scar on the tip of her finger.

A/N: House points to whoever can find the Anne of Green Gables quote and who said it! Albert Nain's last name means dwarf in french, and for Toby Gentil, 'gentil' is french for nice. And for those you don't already know, the name Dolores comes from the french root 'douleur', which means pain.

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