Prologue
"Three weeks. They have been gone for three weeks. What do you have to say for yourselves?" Bellatrix asked the two men seated before her. The Dark Lord had been growing impatient with the undesirable situation and his mood had begun to take a toll on the wellbeing of his followers. Bellatrix ignored the searing pain beneath her arm that acted as a reminder.
"It's a bit of a double edged sword isn't it?" Dominic Valentina replied coldly an amused smirk flitting across his lips as the imposing figure to his right spoke up.
"You have the audacity to tell me how to find my own daughter?" Ulysses Tuppence growled at the witch. His chair screeched along the wooden floors as he rose in anger. Bellatrix resisted the urge to spit back a retort out of respect for her long time affiliate.
"No disrespect intended," Dominic drawled watching the exchange between the two other occupants of the room "but evidence would suggest a new outlook would prove beneficial to the current circumstances."
Ulysses collected himself and sat back down, Dominic was right he was going to get his daughter back regardless of the questionable means of doing so.
Chapter one
Kennedy POV
There was nothing but countryside for miles. It was surreal like a painting. So perfect like a dream before the subconscious can taint the image with unsettling thoughts.
The fields were lush and green; the river running parallel to the train was a rich blue that sparkled under the sunlight. Red and brown leaves served as a blanket to the ground, the warm colours protecting the grass from the crisp air. Tall trees lined each paddock basking in the sun revealing their almost bare branches under the blue skies.
Realising I hadn't managed to read more than three lines in the past half hour I closed my hardcover copy of Hogwarts A History and looked up to my best friend who sat across from me.
Juliet's ebony hair was in a single braid that fell just below her shoulder onto her robes. Her head was resting against the window sill with her eyes closed. She was murmuring lightly to herself, her soft unintelligible words the only sound accompanying the steady sounds of the train moving along the tracks. Feeling my eyelids getting heavy I let the steady sounds serve as my lullaby and play me off to sleep.
"Kennedy."
"Kennedy!"
Opening my eyes I saw Juliet standing over me her hand gently shaking my shoulder.
"We're here. Get up," she said in a curt tone.
Sluggishly I stood up and stretched my arms up towards the ceiling while Juliet grabbed my book and placed it delicately on top of our luggage.
"Will someone collect this for us?" she asked gesturing to our bags.
"Yeah, Dumbledore said it will be taken care of when he wrote."
"Do you think they want to search through our things?"
"Wouldn't be surprised."
Screwing up her face Juliet turned and led the way out of the compartment. Stepping off the train we were rewarded by a slight breeze causing my hair to blow across my face as I turned to face the figure speaking to our right.
"Ms Valentina, Ms Tuppence," she spoke in a clipped tone addressing the both of us. I cringed inwardly at the use of our names, our father's names. Moving my hair out of my line of vision I could finally see the women now standing in front of me.
She had grey hair tightly wound into a knot at the back of her head, a pair of reading glasses rested on the bridge of her nose and she was dressed in a long emerald green cloak that emphasised her pale skin.
"Pleasure to meet you…" I said in an even tone drifting off towards the end
"Professor McGonagall, I'm the transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts."
"Pleasure," I said not missing her watchful and untrusting gaze.
Juliet merely nodded and walked off to the carriage behind Professor McGonagall. It was gorgeous, the wood was polished and intricate carvings decorated each side. Two horse like animals were grazing, their black leather reins attached to the front of the carriage. Noticing my curious gaze I saw a glimpse of pity in the woman's eyes,
"Kestrels," she said softly.
"Excuse me?' I asked turning to face her.
"The animals leading the carriage are called Kestrels."
Nodding absently I ignored the animals and sat next to Juliet in the carriage. The carriage ride was silent and all and all a little uncomfortable. By the time we arrived at the large double door entrance to the castle night had begun to fall and the setting sun, while beautiful, cast a long shadow across the ground on which we stood darkening the old building and doing little to settle my nerves.
Clasping my hands together to stop them from shaking I walked in step with Juliet as we followed the aged witch through the doors past the gazes of curious students up to a large staircase. Refusing to make eye contact with any of the other students I stared at my feet watching every step I took as we made our way up the labyrinth of marble staircases.
Soon we found ourselves walking down a deserted corridor, looking up I noticed that the entire left side was lined with gargoyles each placed roughly four meters after the one before. The other side of the corridor however was heavily decorated with various portraits of witches and wizards snoring softly in their golden frames. The occasional tapestry either red, green, blue or yellow would act as a curtain between several of the larger portraits. No colour appearing to be used any more than another.
Professor McGonagall came to an abrupt stop in front of one of the many gargoyles lining the corridor.
"Ginger Newt," she said in a clear voice and I felt my own lips twitch at the absurdity. To my surprise the gargoyle proceeded to turn back into the stone wall revealing the entrance to a narrow stairwell. Glancing back at Juliet whose face was masked of all expression I followed McGonagall up the short winding path into the most peculiar room I had ever laid eyes on.
The room itself was circular and there wasn't a single section of wall that had been left untouched. Book shelves and portraits covered just about every inch of stone with the exception of the three windows on the tower's walls. All kinds of noises were sounding from around the room, each as untraceable as the last. The immensely large number of objects cluttering the various surfaces in the room were as foreign to me as the merchandise at the muggle department store me and Juliet briefly visited last week. A golden bird cage sat empty on the long desk resting in the middle of the room. Behind the desk stood an elderly man with long silver hair and a long silver beard to match, a man whose eyes glistened beneath his half-moon spectacles. Albus Dumbledore himself.
The feeling that overwhelmed me was as confusing as it was indescribable I couldn't form a single coherent thought about the situation and couldn't help but fall silent before the man who was causing me so much confliction.
"Ms Valentina, Ms Tuppence," he greeted us with a gentle smile.
Taken aback my voice came off frustratingly softer than I had intended, "Professor Dumbledore."
Juliet's voice, however was more firm, "Professor Dumbledore."
"Minerva," He greeted the woman who had entirely slipped my mind since we had entered his office. McGonagall had opened her mouth to speak when a fifth person entered the room.
"Ah Severus, please come and meet our guests," Dumbledore spoke with such kindness you could've mistaken myself and Juliet for long lost relatives of his.
"Tuppence, Valentina," he said in a cold drawl.
"Severus" Juliet replied mimicking the man's tone.
"You will refer to me as Professor Snape," he spat.
"You ca-" Juliet was cut off by Dumbledore
"Why don't we go over how your stay at Hogwarts will advance, I'm sure you girls are very hungry and tired and would want to retire to your dorms with a full stomach as soon as possible."
"What about the sorting?" Professor Snape asked.
"Surely you will not allow these girls to be sorted Albus? They should be separated and placed in one of the houses exempting Slytherin," Professor McGonagall asked sharply.
"Like every student before them and every student to come after they will undergo the sorting process."
Feeling myself get nervous I couldn't help all the unnerving thoughts that shot through my mind at what could be meant by sorting process. Duelling and occlumency were the last two things to resound in my mind as I shook the ridiculous thoughts from my head. Rationally the test couldn't be too hard if it was designed for eleven year olds and it couldn't be too long or it would hugely inconvenience the school by having to conduct a lengthy test on each first year. My strongest bet was that it was some kind of mental test. Cursing myself for not persevering with Hogwarts A History on the train my name being called drew me from my inner turmoil.
"Ms Tuppence please take a seat," it was Dumbledore who had spoken; he stood to the side to reveal an ordinary wooden stool. Confused I obliged and walked over and took a seat, perched on the edge I left my legs to hang limply above the marble floor. With my hands tightly gripping each side of the stool in anticipation my gaze followed Dumbledore as he walked across the room to a shelf built in to the circular walls where it appeared mainly books resided. However it wasn't a book he held in both of his hands as he turned back to face me, it was a worn black hat, the kind my mother wouldn't have dared to be caught dead in.
Perplexed I watched as Dumbledore approached me hat in hand, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he proceeded to place the material neatly on top of my head I began to question the sanity of the people around me. I was just about to ask what was happening when I heard it, when I heard the hat laugh.
"It has been years since I have had to tell the story," the voice drawled.
"Pardon?" I asked after a small pause, my brain faltering at the bizarreness of my situation no doubt.
At my question Juliet shot me a concerned look quirking an eyebrow. Even more confused I turned my attention back to the evasive voice.
"They cannot hear me Kennedy, and do try not to worry so much."
A story? The test is a story?
"Very few need to be told the story in order to have their house determined," the voice responded.
Gasping I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Can you hear what I'm thinking? I thought feeling ridiculous when a couple seconds of silence passed both in my mind and in the room.
"There's nowhere to hide in your mind. Secrets are kept and told with words."
Ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach I continued my internal conversation with the hat praying for my sanity. You're going to tell me a story?