The Berensons went to Gryffindor.
When the Hat settled upon Jake's head, it saw his pureblood ancestry, his chivalry, his leadership, and his quiet determination, the way people naturally looked to him in an emergency, and his strong sense of right and wrong. It saw his desire for recognition, a desire born from years in an older sibling's shadow. It saw his bravery and his resilience, and it knew that Jake Berenson had the heart of a lion.
When the Hat came to rest on his cousin's golden head, it saw her recklessness, her spirit, and her inability to walk away when a fight was needed. It saw the way she flung herself into danger, her ability to shoulder others' burdens and her desire to protect all whom she loved. It saw the way she stood in the spotlight, and her desire for glory, the way her half-blood mother had taught her independence, and her pureblood father had taught her arrogance.
The Hat sent them both to Gryffindor without hesitation, seeing the inner strength in both of them, knowing it would emerge in very different ways.
The Berensons grew up amongst the red of Gryffindor Tower, beside the roaring fires and the rich colours, against the backdrop of brashness and noise. They reclined in overstuffed armchairs, slept in high bedrooms, pulled the heavy gold draperies aside to watch the skies. Jake comfortably slipped into leadership, shepherding first years down corridors, lest they got lost, prodding older students out of comfortable chairs to make way for younger and frailer children, gently chastising students trying to creep past the Fat Lady late at night. Ever watchful, Jake's presence filled the common room, a beacon for all to follow, a parent to those who missed home. When an unruly, black haired boy with a lightning scar appeared during their third year, Jake tried to keep a close eye on him, something in the boy's elusive nature reminding him of his friend Marco.
Rachel grew up adored, admired and somewhat feared. The older students learned fast not to mess with her, the younger students safe in the knowledge that she would protect them to extremes. Rachel walked the halls of Hogwarts like she owned the castle, an invisible spotlight on her wherever she moved. Doors automatically opened for her, stairs seemed to move at her very command, and every secret passage was found by her keen eyes. The first time Snape deducted points unfairly from her House, Rachel yelled loud enough for her voice to echo throughout the halls, standing defiant and proud, staring down the teacher with a rage he had not seen since a certain redhead broke off her friendship with him. The weeks' worth of detention Rachel received sat fine with her, if it meant she had in any way diminished a bully who took his personal bitterness out on his students.
Jake studied more than Rachel, allowing laziness to rule on occasion, but displayed a natural ability for Transfiguration, producing rare, genuine smiles from Minerva McGonagall, who never betrayed her affection for the young lad who reminded her so much of herself, teased for his responsibility, respected for his steadiness. When, during his second year, Jake transfigured his owl into a sparkling water goblet on his first try, McGonagall graced him with an unheard of twenty House points, and a shortbread biscuit after class.
Rachel excelled in practically every class, but showed a particular aptitude for Defence Against The Dark Arts, revelling in attack spells and drinking in knowledge of the creatures that haunted their world. When Lockhart came to the school, she rolled her eyes and joined her friends in secret passageways to conduct their own studies, practicing jinxes on one another, and returning to their classes with bruises and singed hair. A year later, Remus Lupin caught a glimpse of recklessness in her eyes, an over-enthusiasm for attacking the dark creatures they were studying, and was reminded of a certain black-haired, bespectacled friend, who had the same lust for danger, the same yearning for adventure. He wondered if Rachel, too, was headed for an early end.
At Quidditch matches, Jake watched his cousin from the stands, his Prefect badge shining on his robes, worrying about her crazy flying, the Beater's bat clutched in her hand, the look in her eyes ruthless and determined. When Harry fell off his broom in his third year and the Dementors closed in on the pitch, Rachel mustered every bit of inner strength she had and dove to catch the young seeker, ignoring the screaming in her head, as the Dementors invaded her mind. Harry's broom was spared, and his crush on the golden-haired beauty who saved him was a source of endless teasing from the Weasleys.
Were it not for Cedric Diggory, the Goblet of Fire would have chosen Rachel Berenson, strong and aggressive and newly seventeen, who strode into the Great Hall, ignoring the admiring looks from the male Durmstrang students, and dropped a tiny piece of parchment with her name scrawled on it into the blue flames.
When Umbridge arrived in their final year, both Berensons joined the DA. Jake, outraged at Umbridge's wrongs, wore his Head Boy badge as a sign of defiance not compliance, ushered students into the Room of Requirement and covered for their absences, using his status to overrule the Inquisitorial Squad, and maintaining a cool, somewhat neutral front with Umbridge, as he worked tirelessly against her. When he saw the scars on Harry's hand, he plotted every way he could make Umbridge pay, and asked his girlfriend Cassie if she knew of any herbal remedies to soothe Harry's pain. Rachel, enraged by the harm and danger surrounding her school, and never entirely at ease with taking orders from a skinny kid two years younger than herself, scared the smaller students with her ferociousness, and practiced hexes whenever she could. When her Patronus burst forth from her wand and roared down the much smaller animals surrounding it, the students ran from the grizzly and the young woman who conjured it.
Marco went to Slytherin.
The Hat fell over his eyes and saw his clarity, his intelligence, his ability to see the clear, straight line from A to B. It saw his dead pureblood mother and his surviving muggle-born father, his fears of bigotry and his determination to avoid it. It saw his pragmatism, his apathy, his ruthlessness, the way he could remain emotionless and do what needed to be done. The Hat did not hesitate to sort Marco into Slytherin, knowing the young boy would prove to be a different kind of snake than the rest.
Marco grew up in the cool, underground rooms of Slytherin House, reclining against the cold, smooth tiles of the common room, lounging amongst the plush, green cushions and watching the giant squid float lazily by the windows. His years were spent resisting talks of pureblood supremacy, sarcastically standing his ground against the harsher bullies of his house, welcoming the few Slytherins who did not meet pureblood status. When an arrogant, blonde-haired boy entered the Slytherin common room as if he owned it, Marco gathered his friends and defended their varying blood statuses, staring down the punk who was two years younger, but held so much more privilege.
Marco grew up unwelcome in his House, but never second-guessed himself. His friends were loyal but few, and his own House's rejection allowed him to befriend a responsible, headstrong Gryffindor in his second year, forging a friendship which would defy House expectations.
Marco rarely studied, coasting through his classes on his natural intelligence and ability to talk his way out of trouble, displaying an uncanny aptitude for Potions. In the dark dungeon, with the heady fumes pillowing the air, Marco ignored the favouritism of his Head of House, and used his intelligence and intuition to concoct brews and liquids Snape was loathe to admit were better than his own. One day, a tall, golden-haired goddess yelled at the teacher for his unfairness, and Marco watched her in amazement and felt like he was staring at the sun.
When the person they all believed to be Moody appeared at the school, Marco's natural suspicion flared up. Barty Crouch Jr looked into the young man's eyes, and felt a flicker of unease at the mistrust reflected in them. When Harry crashed onto the field at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, one arm wrapped around Cedric's corpse and the sparkling Cup dangling from the other, Marco searched the crowds for the man thought of as Moody, and was alarmed at the way in which he ferreted Harry away from the one person who could protect him. A whisper from Marco in Dumbledore's ear sent the Headmaster and his strongest teachers to Moody's office, and Harry never knew of the Slytherin who had saved his life.
Marco was the only Slytherin to join the DA. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws skirted around him, eyeing him with distrust, uncomfortable with the green in his robes and the ruthlessness in his eyes. The Gryffindors accepted him with a grudging resignation, trusting in their Head Boy's judge of character. Marco helped younger students hide from the Inquisitorial Squad, offered sarcastic, biting excuses to Umbridge, and found it difficult to produce a memory happy enough to fuel a Patronus.
Cassie went to Hufflepuff.
The Hat landed on her dark head and saw her kind Muggle parents, her compassion, her empathy, and her love for all living things. It saw her loyalty and her huge, throbbing heart, and yet it hesitated, seeing into the dark recesses of her young mind, glimpsing parts of her personality she had yet to discover herself. The Hat saw her manipulativeness, her recklessness, the ruthlessness she would one day be capable of showing, and it wondered if this caring, empathetic young woman might be better suited to the colour green. The Hat sent Cassie to Hufflepuff, seeing that her deepest desire was to do good in the world, but knowing she also could have flourished in an entirely different House.
Cassie grew up with the sun-dappled, earthy yellows of Hufflepuff. She shared large, marshmallowy couches with her fellow students, slept in soft, comfortable beds, and tended to the plants which bloomed in the windows of the common room. She had tea with Hagrid and handled her first Unicorn foal at twelve. The students of Hufflepuff knew they could go to Cassie for comfort and support, knew that the empathetic young girl would inevitably have a piece of advice tailored specifically for each individual. Everyone leaned on Cassie for support, but still she made few friends, until, towards the end of her first year, a tall, blonde Gryffindor helped her to angrily stand up to one of the many pureblood bullies, and a friendship sprang up like flowers in spring.
Cassie worked for her grades, studying in the warm greenhouses and under the low branches of the trees near Hagrid's hut. She devoted hours to the subjects which did not come naturally to her, and came to love those classes which did. She helped Hagrid plan lessons for Care of Magical Creatures, and stayed back after Herbology to ask Professor Sprout for extra credit assignments. When the Basilisk filled the school with terror during her fourth year, Cassie went to the greenhouse and spent days tending to the Mandrakes with care and determination, and Professor Sprout came to greatly respect the young Hufflepuff who covered her ears and did everything in her power to help the Mandrakes reach maturity, bringing the Petrified back from their living nightmares.
When the Dementors arrived at the school, Cassie filled her pockets with chocolate frogs and spent hours calming students whose minds had been invaded by the dark creatures. She penned angry letters in her head to the Headmaster, and questioned why such beings were allowed near innocent children.
In her final year, Cassie saw the scars on Harry's hand and the frightened eyes of students in the halls, and she joined the DA with a strong sense of conviction. When Dumbledore disappeared, she comforted students too scared to voice their fears, and took first years down to Hagrid's for tea and warmth. She snuck Butterbeers into DA meetings and made sure there was always chocolate on hand. When everyone turned on Marietta Edgecombe, Cassie asked her friend Tobias to sneak her into the Ravenclaw Tower, and she sat on Marietta's bed, and let the young girl cry about her scarred face and her fears that her mother would lose her job.
Tobias went to Ravenclaw.
The Hat dropped softly onto his fair head, and saw how his pureblood father and muggle mother had perished in the first war. The Hat saw his isolation and his open mind, how he longed for freedom and dreamed of big, open skies. The Hat saw his quiet intelligence and his natural curiosity, and it sent him to Ravenclaw with few doubts, but a piqued interest in the lion-like bravery it glimpsed in the boy's soul.
Tobias grew up in the high, blue Ravenclaw Tower, against a backdrop of quiet chatter and serenity. He sat in open windows, watched the hues of the skies change, and sipped cold water while solving riddles in his mind. He slept on satiny sheets of silver, and reclined on smooth chaises and soft, silky pillows. Tobias spent his first few years alone. He walked to class by himself, dodged bullies in the halls, and hid in the Room of Requirement. He spent hours outdoors, and made friends with the gentle giant who watched the grounds. In his fourth year, an odd, blonde-haired girl arrived in the Ravenclaw Tower, radishes hanging from her ears and a large pair of spectacles resting on her delicate nose. Most of the students in the common room gave her a wide berth, but Tobias felt an overprotective pull towards the young girl who seemed to make so few friends, and he spent the rest of his years at Hogwarts as a big brother to Luna Lovegood.
Tobias took endless notes during classes, often forgot to do his homework, and developed a fondness for Charms. He learned to conjure birds from his wand, enchanted inanimate objects and added bubbles to water, earning approving squeaks and House points from Flitwick. He hauled books from class to class, perched in trees and read for hours, and surrounded himself with knowledge, but soon discovered that his true passion lay outside the classroom.
At Quidditch matches, Luna would watch Tobias from the stands, as he flew overheard with a natural ease and grace befitting his position as Seeker. When he dove for the tiny golden Snitch, Luna felt no fear watching him plummet towards the ground, safe in the knowledge that flying was what Tobias truly loved and excelled at. She clapped from the sidelines and met him in the library after matches to help him research his own personal project, knowing she was the only person he trusted enough to confide in.
In his sixth year, amidst the rowdiness of the Triwizard Tournament and the blues and reds of the visiting students, Tobias took advantage of the chaos and distraction to complete his project, and for the next two years, a hawk circled the Hogwarts grounds for hours at a time, ever watchful, always careful not to fly too close to the Headmaster's window. Once, he transformed back on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and a tall, golden-haired young woman stepped out from behind one of the trees, and looked him up and down, a gleam of approval and admiration in her eyes.
During his final year, Tobias watched Luna make new friends, and joined the DA mainly to keep an eye on her. He helped students through the theory of hexes, sat in the corners of the Room of Requirement with his books, exchanged smiles with Rachel when her Patronus roared down the room, and made sure Luna had chocolate in her pockets at all times. In the evening he circled the school, landed near hiding students, and led them to the safety of common rooms, and away from the watchful eyes of Umbridge. At the end of the year, when Luna went with the others to the Ministry of Magic, a hawk flew alongside the invisible Thestrals, and Tobias shielded his little sister in the undergrounds of the Ministry, and shot hexes at the Death Eaters who tried to harm her.
In this story, in this world, these five children made Hogwarts their sanctuary. They attended classes in the drafty rooms, ate their fill at the yearly feasts, competed for House points against one another, and still found each other amongst the throngs of children. Jake and Cassie held hands in between classes, Tobias watched Rachel rule the school and stole the occasional kiss on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and Marco stood loyally behind his best friend, despite the way green clashed with red. In this world, these children grew up safe, protected by the walls of their school, and two years after graduating, all five returned to Hogwarts for the final battle. Rachel and Jake returned to a place of admiration and glory. Marco returned to a place where he had never truly felt accepted. Cassie returned to warm memories and feelings of comfort. Tobias returned to the first place he had called home. They came when their DA coins glowed gold, each returning to defend their school, their homes, their people. In this story, too, they went to war.
But in this story, Jake was not a general, forced to use his friends, and make unthinkable choices. Rachel had never tasted blood on her lips or experienced the thrill of violence. Marco did not need to plot the line from A to B, and Cassie had never had to use her empathy for anything other than good. In this story, Tobias had never felt one minute of torture. In this story, in this war, they were not leaders. In this war, they were not children.
Rachel shot hexes and protected those smaller than herself. Jake followed behind older generals and directed the younger soldiers. Marco slipped through the crowds, whispered curses and shot silent spells. Cassie tended to the wounded and calmed frightened children cowering in dark corners. Tobias circled overhead, and landed alongside Luna, shielding her from harm, as he always had. Harry died in the Forest, and they watched as his body was returned. Rachel saw Molly Weasley strike down Bellatrix Lestrange, and felt a shiver of adrenaline course through her veins. Jake found his brother amongst the rubble, and pulled him to safety. Marco watched the young Gryffindor he had once saved now save them all. Cassie cried on Hagrid's shoulder and Tobias flew overheard, seeking out any hidden children, and reassuring them that they were safe. Tom Riddle's body was taken away.
In this story, the war did not destroy these five children. In this world, amidst the magic and the excitement, in their high towers and underground commons rooms, amongst their peers and their House colours, in this world, these five children were saved.