Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own the characters of Harry Potter or the places created by J.K. Rowling and do not intend this little story to generate any monetary gains. This is only for the pure enjoyment I take in Harry Potter.

Chapter One: Forgetfulness

The Vienna day was drowsy and wet. It had rained in the city for nearly a week and while other children would have expressed 'What a bore!' with deep sighs and eyes looking longingly out of windows, Miss Beatrice, as everyone called her was delighted that her Mother had gone with a group of friends into the country side, "Rain be Damned!" to taste some local wines and marvel and the quaint farms and family restaurants. She was left at home, alone, and that was the way she liked it.

Her Father, long dead, so dead she could not even make up a memory of him and knew him only by the pictures her mother still kept, had left a large collection of interesting objects in a small room in the very ancient household of her Mothers. There were a great number of spell books and magical instruments to read the stars or do a great many other things she could only guess at. He also had a collection of very horrible things, like shrunken heads and vats filled with strange squirming things as well as very beautiful things, like bejeweled daggers, huge rings of all shapes and colored gems and lovely silks and clothes finely tailored.

While other children may have loved the pretty things Beatrice's Father had kept maybe less would have liked the frightful things and some less may have liked to discover the spell books, however Beatrice was not an ordinary girl, she in fact was a witch and knew it. All her family were witches or wizards and their lines traced back hundreds of years. She loved to look at the old book with all her ancestors' names and small descriptions of their lives and interesting deeds. There were many family trees painted at different times, all in huge bound books with old portraits and letters and journals.

All this history Beatrice dearly loved, she was able to escape into this world and was content to stay here for hours at a time, escaping the dreaded visits of Aunts and Cousins and her most feared enemy, her Grandmother Maris, who hated that Beatrice disliked the fancy dinners and long boring afternoons of walking through parks being told how to be a lady. Beatrice was fascinated with the Muggle world—the world of those who were not witches and wizards.

She read countless Muggle books and always tried to make friends with the children in her grammar school so she could go and watch television with them. She never complained what was on and had recently made friends with two girls and a boy older than herself who let her watch music videos from all over the world.

Her friends often found it odd she was unfamiliar with things they encountered every day, but Beatrice said her family was very old fashioned and did not allow a television in their house and did not like her reading magazines or even to be out of the house too often. She was never able to keep friends too long, her Mother or Grandmother always wanted her home and they were never polite on the phone. Some of the children she went to school with and some of the teachers found it odd she always wore rather old-fashioned dresses and always in dark colors. Some of the boys had laughed at the small cloak she wore instead of a jacket and one of the girls wanted to know, when she was five if she was Little Red Riding Hood.

Sometimes her temper would get the better of her and she'd accidentally make a vase fall off a table or cause books to snap shut. These little incidents did not afford her too many Muggle companions—However Beatrice knew that didn't matter so much, because in the fall she would be attending a proper wizarding school, and her Mother had decided on Hogwarts where her father had gone.

This news was immensely pleasing to Beatrice, she couldn't wait to go to England. She'd spent hours looking through her Father's old pictures of his days at Hogwarts. She read the inscriptions on the backs of the photos countless times and grown to love the castle. She knew the houses and had already, by begging one of her Aunts to buy the book, read Hogwarts, A History.

On this day, her mission was the get into the box where more of her Fathers pictures were kept. She'd been interrupted on her last attempt at the box, but today she went right for it. Moving a large purple armchair to the bookshelf she reached up, pulling away the false books to revel the wooden box with snakes carved all over it. On tiptoe she brought it down and collapsed with a deep sigh of satisfaction into the chair.

Inside she found a very nice picture of her Father and Mother. He had been a very handsome young man, his eyes were hazel and his hair was a sandy blond, swept back like he'd just tussled it. Her Mother looked only younger, her hair was down to her shoulders in thick black braids and her lips were very red. Looking at the picture and comparing herself, she could find only slight resemblances. Her red hair was a mystery and a curse, according to her mother. She hated how dark it was. She did have her Grandfathers grey eyes, she knew that much. She was nearly as tall as her mother now and their builds were similar, though her mother was more petite and already Beatrice hated that it seemed like she was the exaggerated body of her Mother. Her Mother's hips were slight, her waist thin and she was very developed, even at Beatrice's age, her mother delighted in telling her, she looked like a woman while Beatrice still had a lot of 'little girl' in her. If she looked at her Father in this picture she could almost see the features of her own face, rather cat-like, she fancied. Her Mother had given her the cupid bow mouth, something her Grandmother Maris also had and said repeatedly was a trademark of the French in Beatrice. Her Mother would always retort when they argued that at least Beatrice had inherited her Grandfathers German nose.

She shook her head, clearing her mind of the wandering thoughts of her Mother and Grandmother and returned to the photographs. There were so many of friends waving and looking happy. She wondered how everything could have been so dark and dismal when all of these pictures looked so warm. There were pictures of a picnic at the lake, most likely on one of the last days before summer holidays. There was a picture of her Father zooming around on a broomstick, nearly knocking over whoever was taking the photograph.

Halfway down, she found what she'd been looking for. It was of her Father with a boy, who seemed slightly younger than himself in one of the classrooms with a professor. The Professors arm was around the younger boy—Beatrice thought immediately that she liked the way he looked. Her Mother always complained about the pictures Beatrice hung on her walls of this rock star or that, and the one that had caused the biggest fight of a photograph of Edgar Allen Poe. Her Mother had screamed that Beatrice was morbid, and had no taste, and fancied only ugly, less than handsome men because she thought she was better than her Mother.

It wasn't that, she thought she did not look beautiful, but unusual and she liked others who were not the conventional definition of handsome of pretty.

This boy, though she imagined her mother scoffing, was rather handsome she thought. He was tall and thin with a sheet of long black hair and very dark eyes. He looked very much like an American rock star she'd read about in one of the magazines her friends had given her, he had the same high cheek bones and pouting mouth, and the same nose which she liked very much. He was only smiling slightly in this photograph though her Father was beaming with another friend she always saw in his pictures. She turned the photo over and looked for the new name.

"Sev?" she said quietly and flipped it back over, looking again into the boy's dark eyes. Yes, she liked the look of this boy very much. She could not help smiling and falling back into the day dream of being able to have wizarding friends at long last who were not of her endless parade of cousins. People she could talk to openly and not worry about seeming strange or unusual, children who knew magic, whose parents knew magic!

Beatrice could imagine nothing more wonderful than picnics with friends by that very same lake and trying to feed the giant squid.

Quickly she shook herself out of the pleasant daydream, folded the picture up, climbed up the chair and hid the box once more. She pulled the chair back and was just closing the door behind her when she heard the voice of the maid, Melinda calling out her name.

"Miss Beatrice, honestly! You'll get us both in such terrible trouble!"

"What is it?" Beatrice said annoyed.

"Where are you?"

"In the hall," she called back making her way away from her Father's room.

Melinda was there, portly with dark piggy eyes and dark hair like the rest, but rosy cheeks and small teeth, "What're you doing down here?"

Beatrice shrugged, "Nothing. What's going on?"

"Look at the state of you!" Melinda sighed, "Your Grandmother will have my head! Come on now," she said ushering Beatrice out of the hall toward her room. She commanded Beatrice to change into the violet dress her Mother had bought the previous week. She hated the look of it and of the pale green bow and stockings her mother got to go along with it. She looked like a ridiculous potted plant. She protested the ensemble but Melinda gave a stony replay of "Change or I'll tell your mother you were nosing around in Mister Rosier's room again."

Next she was shown into her Mother's large bathroom where Melinda brushed out the tangles in her long red hair, creating a sea of thick puffy hair around Beatrice's face.

"I hate it when you make my hair like this!" she whined, "I hate my hair!"

"Nonsense, you have lovely hair," Melinda said, "You need no charm for it, except maybe to get this rats nest out when you've been ferreting around in old dusty books."

Beatrice stared crossly at the mirror, "What's going on? Why do I have to get into fancy clothes?"

"You're having tea with one of your Uncles."

"I don't care."

"Nonsense," Melinda said dully and yanked rather harder than she needed at a knot in the end of the girls hair.

Maris was first to arrive, dressed in a deep plum frock and orange scarf she was smoking a cigarette as Melinda ushered Beatrice into the small sitting room where Maris typically liked receiving guests. She frowned at the girl and asked, "Are you excited to start school Dear?"

"Yes," Beatrice said. She would have said more but she was annoyed already by the situation and her Grandmother actually scared her when no one else besides a maid was around.

"Where is your mother?" she said crossly darting her cigarette toward a giant glass ashtray.

"With her friends," Beatrice said airily, she knew this would upset her Grandmother.

"Madame Bergman-Rosier is away with Madame Black, Madame Dietrich and Miss Himmelriech, Madame Fontenay," Melinda said fixing the bows in Beatrice's hair. She'd done this as a compromise when Beatrice threatened to jinx it off herself.

"Typical," Maris hissed, "Well when will she be back? The Malfoys are expected at any moment. She was the one who invited them, it would be nice if she could arrive in time to receive her guests."

"Yes, Madame, I am sorry."

"Never mind that now, make sure the tea is prepared," Maris snapped. Melinda did a small curtsy and left quickly, glad no doubt as Beatrice imagined everyone was, to be away from Maris. She did her best to look completely bored but her Grandmother narrowed her eyes and dragging off her cigarette said, "You better be careful girl, you'll end up just like your mother."

Beatrice had heard this plenty over the last eleven years and found the comment completely ungrounded and unreasonable. Everyone knew she did not like her Mother and got into brilliant screaming matches with her now that she was getting older. She was thinking quiet seriously of having a row with her Grandmother but was interrupted by the butler who was ushering the Malfoy family into the room. Maris greeted Narcissa, Lucius and young Draco graciously and apologized for her daughter's absence. They all sat at the small table nestled in the corner by a large oil painting of some long dead Headmaster Bergman and were served tea.

"Well now, it has been a few years since you two have seen each other, am I right Beatrice?" Maris asked indicating Draco who looked as bored as she, but less uncomfortable in dress clothes, which were dark green and black.

"Yes," Beatrice said curtly and was giving a quick warning look by Maris.

Narcissa asked after Maris's health and Amilee's as well as a few cousins who had recently graduated school and Maris replied pleasantly asking Lucius about the Ministry in London. They soon moved into more serious conversations of the current political atmosphere, which did not really interest Beatrice as she propped her cheek against fist and stirred more sugar into her tea.

"That's enough sugar, Dearest," Maris said and gave her elbow a little tap, "And we are still at the table, let us not forget."

It was about this time, when she was leaning back in her chair her arms crossed that Amilee came in through the door, flush with the adventure she and her companions had been on.

"Dearest Daughter! Sweet Mother! And my, the Malfoy's as well! I am a blessed woman today!" She swooped into the room landing kisses on everyone, causing Draco to blush and Beatrice to whip at the lipstick left on her cheek. Her mother sat in an arm chair and was served tea and began prattling endlessly while her friends helped themselves to the brandy for their tea and giggled into their cups when Amilee said, "Why Lucius you are looking well!"

Beatrice could see her Grandmother's temper getting hotter all the while. Narcissa, sensing the growing tention sipped daintily on her tea and said in her quiet voice, "Is it true, Amilee that you have decided to send little Beatrice to Hogwarts?"

"It was her Father's wish," Amilee said waving her hand.

"She will be so far from home, you are alright with having your only child that far from you?"

"I was thinking of sending her to school in Sweden," Amilee said. Her friends were caught in another fit of giggles, "She acts like a little beasts sometimes I don't know what to do with her! I think we will like each other much better when we don't see each other," she said and began to laugh.

Narcissa's eyes feel pityingly on Beatrice but to shock the girl stood up and said, "It's true. I can't wait to get away from her and her stupid friends, I can't wait to be somewhere where I can learn something besides how to be an awful prat!" She trew down her napkin and stormed out of the room.

Amilee sighed, "She is spoiled. It will do her good, the little brat. I spoil her though, I am the one to blame you know. I try to give her everything I did not. Freedom for one thing," her eyes feel on Maris.

In order not to appear rude the Malfoys stayed and finished their tea with the woman making very painful small talk until Lucius rose, thanking Amilee and Maris and insisting that they must come to London for a visit.

"Perhaps before the Christmas Holidays you could come and stay a few days and Beatrice might come from school to our home?"

"Oh that sounds lovely," one of Amilee's friends slurred, now very drunk on the tea and brandy.

Amilee stood, "That does sound nice, thank you Lucius," she kissed Narcissa on both cheeks and added, "I do apologize for the rudeness of my daughter, she is a child after all."

"No, it's quite alright, I suspect she was just tired."

Amilee smiled, wide and almost with disgust at the life she believed Narcissa to have, "Yes of course, she must be. But we all are, so I will bid you adieu."

On September the first Beatrice arrived at Kings Cross station with her Uncle Alfred and Mother after spending the last week of the holidays in his London flat. Earlier that week Alfred had bought a huge black cat named Tibolt for his niece largely against Amilee's wishes, she hated cats and this one whose head nearly came to her knees did nothing to sway her judgment on the animals as a whole.

Beatrice was fascinated at all the families on the platform, all the sounds of the animals, the hiss of the steam engine and calls of 'Hello' or 'Goodbye' made between everyone.

"Well," Amilee said finally, "Do write once in awhile, won't you?" There was a look in her mother's face she had seldom seen, some emotion that was foreign to her and made her uncomfortable. She could remember it when a few years ago she had ventured to ask about what her Grandfather had been like, and then once again at six when she'd curled up in a cupboard to take a nap after she'd been scolded for eating cakes before supper and her mother had thought she'd run away.

"Of course," Beatrice said shifting Tibolt from one arm to the other.

"And make sure you are staying out of trouble, young lady," her uncle said, "I do not want Howlers from your professors telling me that you are being wild and unladylike."

"No, of course not. I'll behave," Beatrice assured.

"And try and spend some time with your cousins, the gods know you have enough of them there," Amilee said attempting to return to her usual cold self.

"Yes, Mother."

Each kissed her and rushed her toward the train. Once inside she looked into each compartment she passed, hoping to find an empty one, but finding her cousin Draco inside with some of this friends.

"Hello," she said, a little embarrassed about the last time she had seen him at her home.

"Oh that's right, your Mother did say you were coming here. So she remembered to send you?"

Beatrice felt a cold chill pass through her stomach, "I guess she did," she sighed sitting next to the open window seat with her cat in her lap.

"What is that? A bear?" someone asked.

"This is Tibolt," Beatrice said, "He's a cat."

"Well of course it's a cat, but what ever did you feed him to make him that big?"

"He must be one of them Giant's cats, you've heard of them right?" someone else said and started to laugh.

Beatrice grumbled shooting her cousin a dirty look and then pulled out a book from her satchel and began to read.

One of the girls in the compartment gasped, "What are you reading?"

Beatrice peeked over the top of her book, amused. It was called, Bright Darkness: A beginner's guild to the dark arts, she smiled.

"You better put that away, you could get into a lot of trouble," one of the older boys said.

"Well then you tell me if someone comes by and I'll hid it," she said dropping her eyes again.

It was few minutes before the first boy asked, "Do you know any hexes?"

Beatrice shrugged, "One or two."

"Cool," the second said, "What can you do?"

"Sangiuo Nasus," Beatrice said, with a shrug.

"What's that?"

"Gives you a nose bleed."

They were awed for a moment before Draco asked, "What was that again?"

"Want me to show you?"

The boy sitting on his left laughed and Draco scowled. Beatrice, feeling content went back to her book a small smile on her face as she turned to chapter four.

She had fallen asleep; she knew she was tired and dreading the long weekend ahead of her alone with only the company of the other Slytherins who on the whole did not like her. The two girls in her dorm Pansy and her best friend Elisa were quick to dislike her though she did not know why and the others, Harriet and Cassandra seemed to think that talking openly to her would cause Pansy and Elisa to snub them aswell for association. It made sleeping in the dorm hard, but she hadn't expected to fall asleep in the library.

Attempting to rouse herself quickly and apologize to the librarian Beatrice almost couldn't take in the girl standing next to her, "It's okay," she said, "I just thought you'd want to finish your homework. I'd want someone to wake me up too."

Beatrice looked up at the girl. She had very wild brown hair and eyes flecked with gold and a very pleasant face.

"Oh, thank you," Beatrice said relaxing, "My name's Beatrice," she extended her hand to the girl who took it and smiled back more widely revealing a set of very white and straight teeth albeit a little bucktoothed.

"Hermione Granger," she said, "We're in the same potions class."

"Oh, so you're in Gryffindor then?"

She nodded, "What were you looking up?"

"Something for Transfiguration, I'm afraid I'm not as good at it as I'd hoped to be, although it has been hard with," she paused a moment, "things the way they are."

Hermione gave her a quizzical look.

"Er, nevermind,"

"No, I think I understand. I don't fit in so well around here either, I think it's because I want to do so well. There are these two boys I talked to and they looked all shocked when I could do a simple repairing spell on the train, and they haven't even read Hogwarts A History or the first chapter of our charms book yet."

"Really? I made my Auntie buy me Hogwarts about a year ago because I knew this is where I wanted to come to school and I already knew some spells too, but for some reason this girl Pansy doesn't like me and everyone is so afraid of her that no one will talk to me in my house."

"Oh that's horrible! I'm friends with a prefect in our house but, I can tell some of the time she just is because she feels it's her duty."

From a bookcase somewhere behind them the girls heard Mrs. Pinse cough loudly as if the remind them that it was a library and the rules applied even if they were the only two at lunch time. Hermione checked behind her then set her bag down and sat down next to Beatrice.

"I thought it would be different here because we all can do magic. At home I was always keeping everything I could do a secret from my Muggle friends," Beatrice whispered, "I thought maybe people wouldn't care who my Mum and Dad where or if I were Pureblood or not but some of the kids in my house are as bloody mad as my family for it."

"So you're family are all magical too? Where do you live, here in London?"

"No, I live in Vienna, well my Mother's family does. My dad was British and I used to spend a lot of time in London when I was very little. We're supposed to be related to King Author too by this son he had with his half sister."

"Really?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. She had come to believe in certain things now in the magical world she felt she might have scoffed at otherwise.

Beatrice shrugged, "I don't know really, I just know they go on and on about it if you ask them. There's supposed to be this old book that shows it, but I haven't found it yet. I just found one that had a note at the bottom that said the matriarch was his great-great-granddaughter."

Hermione had pulled out her transfigurations homework and was flipping through her notes quietly, "I'd love to know so much about my family," she said.

"It's okay, it's just some of them were really terrible."

"Did they practice the Dark Arts?" Hermione asked.

Beatrice hesitated for a moment, "My father was Evan Rosier; he was a supporter of...The Dark Lord and died in his service," she paused taking in the shocked look on Hermione's face but continued on, "A lot of my family think he died a hero's death, fighting the Aurors and remaining faithful."

Hermione could not keep her mouth from dropping a little. She covered it quickly but returned Beatrice's gaze until she brought her eyes back to the book she'd been reading, "Bleeding stupid thing to be proud of if you ask me," she said in a mumble, "I don't remember him at all except in photographs and my Mother is insane because of it. She tramps around like a great child and has left me to nurses and my Grandmother, who hates me and hates that I want to come here instead of some school where all they want to teach me is how to be a nice wife or something," Beatrice could feel a hot sting in her eyes and her face going red. She wiped prematurely at her eyes and cleared her throat.

"That's awful," Hermione said but seeing that Beatrice took this to mean she thought she was awful she amended, "I mean it's awful that they think that and don't respect your choices and ideas."

Beatrice took in a breath and hardened her expression, "They all think they're so clever just because they're Pureblood but they don't know anything."

Hermione smiled, "Do you feel like going to get something from the Great Hall?"

Beatrice gave one final wipe to her eyes, "Yeah, I think I might like a cup of tea if there is any."

The two girls gathered up their books and slung their bags over their shoulders and went into the Great Hall together. Hardly anyone seemed to notice them even when they sat down together at the end of the Gryffindor table. They made plans to meet back in the library before dinner and work on their homework together.