Okay this is a new story; it takes place twenty years after what we have
now. Some things always change; some things however never do, such as
Hogwart's. The castle will always stand, the Defense against the Dark Arts
teacher will change every year, and there will always be one student who
can't seem to keep himself or his friends out of trouble. This
generation's student is one Zane Cobalt. He is odd, he is different. And
he is also more than a little familiar.
Zane Cobalt, the Muggle-Born Slytherin
Wizards and Mudbloods
Zane was born in the very room he now lives in. Had his parents been American, they would have been called Hippies. Zane was born with an odd birth mark on his forehead above his right eye. It is in the shape of a lightening bolt. No one can exactly remember seeing it before, but there is something familiar about it. Even his room is odd. He often hears strange noises coming from the wall that he shares with his neighbors. Yet when he asks about the noises, no one there can figure out what he means. Life at number thirteen Grimmauld Place, London, was just plain odd.
Zane was most often annoyed that strange stuff always seemed to happen to him, when he got teased for his birthmark, gusts of wind would knock over the teasers. When he was young his parents always found him talking to snakes, but he hadn't tried it in years . . . but in some memories, the snakes would actually talk back. Zane had been bored all his life, all eleven years of it.
As his last year of primary school ended, his parents began talking about what schools he should attend. Zane never considered any of this much. He would just sit in his room, and stare out the window, and dream of something more exciting. Then one day his dream came true as he watched an owl swoop down and drop something on the morning mail. When his parents called him in, they said he had a letter. Zane had no friends, especially not any who would write. As he looked at the envelope he knew no one he knew could have sent this. It was on old parchment and sealed with wax. He opened it up and began to read.
Dear Mr. Z. Cobalt;
I am proud to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwart's school of witchcraft and wizardry. Please respond by August first. Enclosed is your ticket for the Hogwart's express which leaves Platform 9 and ¾ at Charring Cross promptly at eleven A.M. enclosed is also a list of books and supplies you will need. Diagon Alley is the recommended location for your school shopping.
Thank you and congradulations
Severus Snape
Deputy Headmaster.
Zane looked at his parents with confusion. They read the letter and didn't understand it any better than he did. All three assumed that it was a prank and tossed the letter. Later Zane recovered it, for reasons he himself wasn't sure of, and saved the book list and the ticket.
Fortunately for Zane, Hogwart's is anything if not persistent. In a short amount of time, there were hundreds of letters, and the Cobalt's were trying their damnedest to find out what all this meant. It was at the beginning of the last week in July when a stranger turned up on Zane's street. The stranger he saw was a woman with bushy brown hair, and a good figure. She seemed, to Zane, to be staring right between his home and the home next to his. Then she walked up to his door and knocked.
Zane waited on the stairs and listened as his parents talked to the woman.
"Hello, my name is Prof. Granger. I am here representing Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is assumed that you don't understand what the letters mean. Is that correct?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Cobalt "IS this some sort of joke? A school for teaching children to be witches and wizards?"
"No, no, no," said the Prof. Granger, "One cannot learn how to be witch or wizard," he heard his parents sigh in relief, "You have to be born one, like your son."
It took two hours for her to convince his parents of the legitimacy of the school. Eventually she had to change a teapot into a turtle. His parents said miracle, she said third year transfigurations. In the end she said her job, aside from teaching the transfigurations class, was to meet with Muggle-borns and their families and help them to understand the wonderful opportunity that is presenting itself. She would take him through the market place, and help him to open an account in the wizard bank. Basically her job was to make him less of a stranger to the wizard world.
The words that eventually changed his parents' minds were "Aside from supplies, the school is free." The next day he was off with the strange woman into the heart of London.
She took him into a pub, which he found strange enough, but then the woman, who always acted so stately and aristocratic, was well recognized. People would tip their hats to her, or come up to shake her hand and give condolences for something. She just kept telling them, "It was almost eleven years ago, I have moved on. I am at peace with it."
She lead them through the back of the building and into the small alley way. She tapped the bricks and the entrance to a new street appeared. As Zane stepped through, she grabbed his shoulder and said, "Let's not get separated. Diagon Alley is a busy place. I especially don't want you wandering down into Knockturn Alley."
As they walked down the street he looked to her and asked, "Why were people giving you their condolences?"
"My fiancé died almost eleven years ago, he was very famous. I guess my intending to marry him made me famous by association. Actually," she said a little brighter than he expected on this topic, "it will be eleven years ago this Wednesday. It would also have been his thirty-seventh birthday."
"He died on his birthday?" Zane asked.
"Mm hmm. It was planned that way by a very evil man. Luckily for the world, that man died that day too."
"And his birthday would have been Wednesday?"
"Yes, why?"
"Wednesday is my eleventh birthday." He didn't know if this was something she really cared to know, but it seemed to soften her expression.
"Well, isn't that something. You know, my fiancé made his first trip down here around his birthday too."
"Was he muddie-bord?"
"That's Muggle-Born, and no, but he was raised by Muggles."
"Here we are, the first stop of the day." They had stopped in front of a large marble building. "This is Gringott's, the Wizard's bank. The goblins inside will help you set up an account and change the Muggle money your folks gave ya." After half an hour, they came back out with a bag full of coins.
"Next stop," she said gesturing to the large shop in front of her. the sign had only the name on it, "Olivander's".
Here we will pick up your wand. Er . . . why don't you go a head, he knows what he's doing. I will meet up with you when you come out." with that she disappeared around a corner.
He walked in and heard the bell ring. The old man who must run the place saw him and said, "First year at Hogwart's? Need your first Wand?"
"Yes sir," Zane said. He jumped as a set of tape-measures came flying at him. They began to measure his entire body. Even some parts he really thought didn't need to be measured. After a while, Mr. Olivander came back with a small stack of boxes. He pulled wands out and handed them to Zane, he waved each once, and something detonated. Zane would have thought that that was a good sign, but apparently not. They must have gone through fifty, and then Mr. Olivander said, "Stay here, I will go look in the back."
Zane looked around the store. The only wands to be outside of the shelves, aside from those he had been trying, were two red ones on a display stand. The sign said, "The tools of light and dark." He picked up one and looked it over. It definitely looked like it had been through a bit of a work out, the other one too. When he picked up the second wand, something filled him with warmth.
He held it and waved it around, but nothing blew up. Zane wondered if that was a good sign. He also wondered if these would be more expensive since they were obviously special. Mr. Olivander came in and saw what he was holding and promptly dropped all the boxes of wands he had been carrying. "Oh dear!" he squeaked.
Zane put the wand back on its stand and thought he was about to be chucked out. "Young man," said Mr. Olivander, "Pick up that wand again."
Zane picked it up, more carefully this time. Mr. Olivander scribbled something down on a scrap of paper and gave it to him and said, "Point the wand and say this."
Zane pointed the wand at a pile of boxes and said, "Lumos." A shaft of light shot from the end of the wand. Zane was afraid it was going to catch something on fire. He fumbled it, and the light went out. he held it close to his chest and was about to set it down again when Mr. Olivander spoke again, "Never in my life have I seen such a thing."
"What thing," Zane asked.
"I have never seen a wand re-cycle itself. I have never seen a wand choose a second owner." Zane looked down at the wand he had held. So it was second hand. That explained all the wear and tear. "The owners of those two wands did great things with them . . . one of them did terrible things . . . but great things. I have said this only once before; I believe we can expect great things from you sir."
"Er . . . um, how much do I owe you for the wand. I expect its expensive." Zane was afraid of how much it might cost.
"Well, I seem to recall that in other businesses, when a product is used and sold again, the second time it is sold it is actually cheaper. This is the first time I have ever sold a wand again. So I think to mark this incredible occasion . . . the wand is yours, take it."
Zane, while he did grow up loved, hadn't met a person this generous ever. "Thank you Mr. Olivander."
The old man simply smiled and shooed him out the door. That was where he bumped into Prof. Granger. "He I was wondering if you were done yet. It took me three hours to find a good wand."
Zane looked down and saw she was carrying a bird cage. "Happy birthday," she said. Inside the cage was a small black bird. It cawed and looked right at Zane, as if asking, "Are you the one in charge?"
"It's a raven," he said.
"Yes. You struck me as different. she may not be able to handle large packages, but she can get mail around no problem."
"Mail?" Zane still hadn't figured out why those owls had been visiting his home.
"In the wizarding world, we have owls deliver mail usually, but really any bird will do." Zane opened the cage and held his hand out to the small creature. It jumped on to his hand and climbed up his shoulder. "What are you going to name her?"
Zane thought for a moment, and then said, "Nevermore."
"Clever," commented Prof. Granger.
After purchasing quills, books, parchment, bags, cauldrons, potions ingredients, and having lunch at Florean Fortesque's, they made their last stop at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. As he stood their getting measured, a man with two children came walking in. he was taller than Prof. Granger, and had platinum blonde hair that was slicked down to his head. He was followed by two children Zane's age. The new man cast a foul look on Prof. Granger.
"Malfoy," she commented in a barely civil tone.
"Mudblood," he said without even looking at her.
Madam Malkin came back in from the back and began taking measurements on all three preteens. Both of the kids that had come with "Malfoy" had platinum blonde hair as well. One was a boy who wore his hair exactly like his father. The other was a girl, she allowed her hair to flow. It was down to her waist.
Zane's thought were inturupted as once again the automatic measuring tape got a little too personal. "Geez, how many people here really need to know *that* measurement. I mean it's the second time I've been measured there."
Both of the other kids laughed until their father shushed them and said, "Do not asossiate with this miscreant. If he is with her, then he is a Mudblood."
Madam Malkin stood up immediately on hearing that word again and said sternly to all three blondes, "Get out now. I could stand you insulting them before that word, but not after. Get out." with a flourish, they all turned and left muttering about better places to put this one out of business.
"Sorry deary," she said, "I wouldn't have done that if you weren't with her," she said gesturing to Prof. Granger. "I have a lot of respect for her."
Prof. Granger smiled a little, and said "Thank you."
"Um, what is a 'Mudblood'?"
"It is a derogatory remark," answered Prof. Granger, "about people whose parents are either one magical or none magical. That is to say, like you and I, we are Muggle-borns. Our parents are not magical, so some people think that that makes them better than us. A lot of this blood stuff is just stupid."
Zane shook his head. Even here there were idiots who claimed they were better.
Prof. Granger walked him home that night and told him, "I will pick you up at seven A.M. on the first of September. Be ready please.
He went to sleep that night and dreamt of strange things. He dreamt of casting spells, of falling in love, of putting a curse on all three of those blond morons. Most of all he dreamt of having people who would understand him. Yeah, understanding that would be nice.
Zane Cobalt, the Muggle-Born Slytherin
Wizards and Mudbloods
Zane was born in the very room he now lives in. Had his parents been American, they would have been called Hippies. Zane was born with an odd birth mark on his forehead above his right eye. It is in the shape of a lightening bolt. No one can exactly remember seeing it before, but there is something familiar about it. Even his room is odd. He often hears strange noises coming from the wall that he shares with his neighbors. Yet when he asks about the noises, no one there can figure out what he means. Life at number thirteen Grimmauld Place, London, was just plain odd.
Zane was most often annoyed that strange stuff always seemed to happen to him, when he got teased for his birthmark, gusts of wind would knock over the teasers. When he was young his parents always found him talking to snakes, but he hadn't tried it in years . . . but in some memories, the snakes would actually talk back. Zane had been bored all his life, all eleven years of it.
As his last year of primary school ended, his parents began talking about what schools he should attend. Zane never considered any of this much. He would just sit in his room, and stare out the window, and dream of something more exciting. Then one day his dream came true as he watched an owl swoop down and drop something on the morning mail. When his parents called him in, they said he had a letter. Zane had no friends, especially not any who would write. As he looked at the envelope he knew no one he knew could have sent this. It was on old parchment and sealed with wax. He opened it up and began to read.
Dear Mr. Z. Cobalt;
I am proud to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwart's school of witchcraft and wizardry. Please respond by August first. Enclosed is your ticket for the Hogwart's express which leaves Platform 9 and ¾ at Charring Cross promptly at eleven A.M. enclosed is also a list of books and supplies you will need. Diagon Alley is the recommended location for your school shopping.
Thank you and congradulations
Severus Snape
Deputy Headmaster.
Zane looked at his parents with confusion. They read the letter and didn't understand it any better than he did. All three assumed that it was a prank and tossed the letter. Later Zane recovered it, for reasons he himself wasn't sure of, and saved the book list and the ticket.
Fortunately for Zane, Hogwart's is anything if not persistent. In a short amount of time, there were hundreds of letters, and the Cobalt's were trying their damnedest to find out what all this meant. It was at the beginning of the last week in July when a stranger turned up on Zane's street. The stranger he saw was a woman with bushy brown hair, and a good figure. She seemed, to Zane, to be staring right between his home and the home next to his. Then she walked up to his door and knocked.
Zane waited on the stairs and listened as his parents talked to the woman.
"Hello, my name is Prof. Granger. I am here representing Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is assumed that you don't understand what the letters mean. Is that correct?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Cobalt "IS this some sort of joke? A school for teaching children to be witches and wizards?"
"No, no, no," said the Prof. Granger, "One cannot learn how to be witch or wizard," he heard his parents sigh in relief, "You have to be born one, like your son."
It took two hours for her to convince his parents of the legitimacy of the school. Eventually she had to change a teapot into a turtle. His parents said miracle, she said third year transfigurations. In the end she said her job, aside from teaching the transfigurations class, was to meet with Muggle-borns and their families and help them to understand the wonderful opportunity that is presenting itself. She would take him through the market place, and help him to open an account in the wizard bank. Basically her job was to make him less of a stranger to the wizard world.
The words that eventually changed his parents' minds were "Aside from supplies, the school is free." The next day he was off with the strange woman into the heart of London.
She took him into a pub, which he found strange enough, but then the woman, who always acted so stately and aristocratic, was well recognized. People would tip their hats to her, or come up to shake her hand and give condolences for something. She just kept telling them, "It was almost eleven years ago, I have moved on. I am at peace with it."
She lead them through the back of the building and into the small alley way. She tapped the bricks and the entrance to a new street appeared. As Zane stepped through, she grabbed his shoulder and said, "Let's not get separated. Diagon Alley is a busy place. I especially don't want you wandering down into Knockturn Alley."
As they walked down the street he looked to her and asked, "Why were people giving you their condolences?"
"My fiancé died almost eleven years ago, he was very famous. I guess my intending to marry him made me famous by association. Actually," she said a little brighter than he expected on this topic, "it will be eleven years ago this Wednesday. It would also have been his thirty-seventh birthday."
"He died on his birthday?" Zane asked.
"Mm hmm. It was planned that way by a very evil man. Luckily for the world, that man died that day too."
"And his birthday would have been Wednesday?"
"Yes, why?"
"Wednesday is my eleventh birthday." He didn't know if this was something she really cared to know, but it seemed to soften her expression.
"Well, isn't that something. You know, my fiancé made his first trip down here around his birthday too."
"Was he muddie-bord?"
"That's Muggle-Born, and no, but he was raised by Muggles."
"Here we are, the first stop of the day." They had stopped in front of a large marble building. "This is Gringott's, the Wizard's bank. The goblins inside will help you set up an account and change the Muggle money your folks gave ya." After half an hour, they came back out with a bag full of coins.
"Next stop," she said gesturing to the large shop in front of her. the sign had only the name on it, "Olivander's".
Here we will pick up your wand. Er . . . why don't you go a head, he knows what he's doing. I will meet up with you when you come out." with that she disappeared around a corner.
He walked in and heard the bell ring. The old man who must run the place saw him and said, "First year at Hogwart's? Need your first Wand?"
"Yes sir," Zane said. He jumped as a set of tape-measures came flying at him. They began to measure his entire body. Even some parts he really thought didn't need to be measured. After a while, Mr. Olivander came back with a small stack of boxes. He pulled wands out and handed them to Zane, he waved each once, and something detonated. Zane would have thought that that was a good sign, but apparently not. They must have gone through fifty, and then Mr. Olivander said, "Stay here, I will go look in the back."
Zane looked around the store. The only wands to be outside of the shelves, aside from those he had been trying, were two red ones on a display stand. The sign said, "The tools of light and dark." He picked up one and looked it over. It definitely looked like it had been through a bit of a work out, the other one too. When he picked up the second wand, something filled him with warmth.
He held it and waved it around, but nothing blew up. Zane wondered if that was a good sign. He also wondered if these would be more expensive since they were obviously special. Mr. Olivander came in and saw what he was holding and promptly dropped all the boxes of wands he had been carrying. "Oh dear!" he squeaked.
Zane put the wand back on its stand and thought he was about to be chucked out. "Young man," said Mr. Olivander, "Pick up that wand again."
Zane picked it up, more carefully this time. Mr. Olivander scribbled something down on a scrap of paper and gave it to him and said, "Point the wand and say this."
Zane pointed the wand at a pile of boxes and said, "Lumos." A shaft of light shot from the end of the wand. Zane was afraid it was going to catch something on fire. He fumbled it, and the light went out. he held it close to his chest and was about to set it down again when Mr. Olivander spoke again, "Never in my life have I seen such a thing."
"What thing," Zane asked.
"I have never seen a wand re-cycle itself. I have never seen a wand choose a second owner." Zane looked down at the wand he had held. So it was second hand. That explained all the wear and tear. "The owners of those two wands did great things with them . . . one of them did terrible things . . . but great things. I have said this only once before; I believe we can expect great things from you sir."
"Er . . . um, how much do I owe you for the wand. I expect its expensive." Zane was afraid of how much it might cost.
"Well, I seem to recall that in other businesses, when a product is used and sold again, the second time it is sold it is actually cheaper. This is the first time I have ever sold a wand again. So I think to mark this incredible occasion . . . the wand is yours, take it."
Zane, while he did grow up loved, hadn't met a person this generous ever. "Thank you Mr. Olivander."
The old man simply smiled and shooed him out the door. That was where he bumped into Prof. Granger. "He I was wondering if you were done yet. It took me three hours to find a good wand."
Zane looked down and saw she was carrying a bird cage. "Happy birthday," she said. Inside the cage was a small black bird. It cawed and looked right at Zane, as if asking, "Are you the one in charge?"
"It's a raven," he said.
"Yes. You struck me as different. she may not be able to handle large packages, but she can get mail around no problem."
"Mail?" Zane still hadn't figured out why those owls had been visiting his home.
"In the wizarding world, we have owls deliver mail usually, but really any bird will do." Zane opened the cage and held his hand out to the small creature. It jumped on to his hand and climbed up his shoulder. "What are you going to name her?"
Zane thought for a moment, and then said, "Nevermore."
"Clever," commented Prof. Granger.
After purchasing quills, books, parchment, bags, cauldrons, potions ingredients, and having lunch at Florean Fortesque's, they made their last stop at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. As he stood their getting measured, a man with two children came walking in. he was taller than Prof. Granger, and had platinum blonde hair that was slicked down to his head. He was followed by two children Zane's age. The new man cast a foul look on Prof. Granger.
"Malfoy," she commented in a barely civil tone.
"Mudblood," he said without even looking at her.
Madam Malkin came back in from the back and began taking measurements on all three preteens. Both of the kids that had come with "Malfoy" had platinum blonde hair as well. One was a boy who wore his hair exactly like his father. The other was a girl, she allowed her hair to flow. It was down to her waist.
Zane's thought were inturupted as once again the automatic measuring tape got a little too personal. "Geez, how many people here really need to know *that* measurement. I mean it's the second time I've been measured there."
Both of the other kids laughed until their father shushed them and said, "Do not asossiate with this miscreant. If he is with her, then he is a Mudblood."
Madam Malkin stood up immediately on hearing that word again and said sternly to all three blondes, "Get out now. I could stand you insulting them before that word, but not after. Get out." with a flourish, they all turned and left muttering about better places to put this one out of business.
"Sorry deary," she said, "I wouldn't have done that if you weren't with her," she said gesturing to Prof. Granger. "I have a lot of respect for her."
Prof. Granger smiled a little, and said "Thank you."
"Um, what is a 'Mudblood'?"
"It is a derogatory remark," answered Prof. Granger, "about people whose parents are either one magical or none magical. That is to say, like you and I, we are Muggle-borns. Our parents are not magical, so some people think that that makes them better than us. A lot of this blood stuff is just stupid."
Zane shook his head. Even here there were idiots who claimed they were better.
Prof. Granger walked him home that night and told him, "I will pick you up at seven A.M. on the first of September. Be ready please.
He went to sleep that night and dreamt of strange things. He dreamt of casting spells, of falling in love, of putting a curse on all three of those blond morons. Most of all he dreamt of having people who would understand him. Yeah, understanding that would be nice.