Prologue

(Zip your lips like a padlock)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter OR Glee. I just like to borrow them.

A/N: This is just a prologue stemming from an idea I've had floating around. Please let me know if you all like it!

Quinn Fabray was of an interesting sort.

She was neither mesmerizing nor dull. She was neither perfect nor imperfect. She wasn't talented or talentless.

She was an in-between girl. Caught between standing out and sticking in. She blended more than she wanted to and couldn't impress quite as much as she desired to.

She was nothing like Caroline.

Two years was hardly a difference between siblings, but it felt like different worlds for Quinn. Where Quinn was uncoordinated, Caroline was graceful. Graceful with her body, her tone, and graceful with her beauty. When Quinn was messy, Caroline was clean. Clean with her words and her wit-but most importantly-clean with her intentions. When Quinn was stuck, Caroline was free. Free to do what she wanted, to have answers, free from judgment.

But worst of all: where Quinn blended, Caroline was extraordinary.

Quinn's daddy was a very righteous man. Quinn could never bring herself to decide on if he actually deserved to be or if he made it so, but it honestly didn't matter since her family was the coldest thing around.

Quinn never understood why because her family never seemed as important as Jesus, and Jesus was not a righteous man. Unlike her father, Jesus was a forgiving man.

Nonetheless, her father still acted that way.

He expected nothing less than perfection from his family, as if it were the means to happiness because he could judge others of their imperfections and faults. Quinn's father never wanted anything more than what he expected and honestly, Quinn wasn't quite rising up to the occasion.

She found it strange because family was something that was supposed to be consistent...but Quinn got the feeling sometimes that if she wasn't flesh and blood her father would have thrown her out years ago.

There was nothing her father hated more than disappointment and Quinn often brought a lot of that.

Her faith assured her that such a thing wasn't possible, for her father to discard his daughter with barely more than a thought (and her heart agrees wholeheartedly).

But her mind? Her mind knows better. Her mind has doubts.

Sometimes when she fails to meet the standards set out for her, she catches this glint in her fathers eye and it just sends the worst shivers down her spine.

So Quinn tried harder.

She worked harder in school, discards her jeans for sundresses and her fun times for dance classes and homework. But no matter how hard Quinn tries...she's still always barely out of reach.

So she prays.

Quinn Fabray was nine years old when she started praying for an answer, to be different and better and worthy. She was almost nine and a half when God finally gave her a line to hold on to in the form of Santana Lopez.

Quinn wouldn't call Santana a hero b/c it would honestly inflate her ego far more than necessary; but also because she was Santana freaking Lopez and she was hardly a hero. But she was enough.

At nine, Santana was extremely hard to be around. There were good times and there were bad, but it still somehow worked in their favor. They were all that one another needed and all that one another wanted.

The first time it happens, both Quinn and Santana are so distracted that they don't even notice that anything is different.

Quinn was busy crying over her latest bruise covering her thigh. She had gotten an 80% on her presentation in class and her was particularly unpleased by her performance. He kept repeating over and over that, "Fabray's don't settle for mediocre, Fabray's achieve excellence."

It wasn't even the worst bruise that had ever adorned her skin, it was honestly just the location. Well, that and the fact that Quinn couldn't ever recall when her family had been extraordinary.

Honestly, it was really just the location. It made it incredibly painful for Quinn to walk without grimacing and Quinn was honestly trying her hardest to just not cry-her father constantly told her that crying was for babies-while Santana was pretending that she didn't notice.

It was a sort-of thing that they did. Pretending not to care about each other when they really did.

Anyway, Santana was busy mumbling every curse she had ever heard (under her breathe) when her eyes had met Russell Fabray's. She was so, so angry that a dad would bring his hand down on a girl who couldn't defend herself.

She was even angrier that the said girl was Quinn.

Santana just got angrier with every minute until finally her heart was pounding, the anger coursing through her veins as another whimper from Quinn made its way to her ears.

Santana grabbed Quinn's hand, her anger refusing to cease, refusing to die down. She needed something to bring her back down...but nothing would work. The anger just flowed freely from Santana's toes all the way to her hands, and then to her heart.

Santana just couldn't let it go. But she would be okay eventually, she was sure of it. Santana Lopez figured that she'd be able to move on and forget about it. After all, she was barely ten. These were the sort of things that children moved away from rather quickly.

That is, until Russell Fabray's eyes caught hers through his back window. Santana had been completely willing to let the incident go eventually and then Russell made eye contact. Russell looked straight at Santana (his gaze never faltering) and he fucking smiled.

Everything within Santana went numb with anger. She understood smugness when she saw it, she understood arrogance. She saw Russell Fabray for what he was and couldn't bury the urge to punch him in the face.

However, she knew that violence wasn't the answer. While it would certainly make Santana feel better, it really wouldn't do anything for Quinn.

So instead of violence Santana just gripped Quinn's hand harder. She held on to Quinn's hand and repeated over and over again, "I wish that your heart could feel the same amount of pain that your hands place upon others", until she she felt better.

Santana didn't feel like her statement had any real impact, but she did feel better, so she turned to Quinn with the brightest smile she had ever had and spoke, "Come on, Q. I know this great place where Hudson hides his candy!"

It took two days for Quinn's father to fall ill. And another two days for Santana to receive her letter. At first Quinn had been confused because she was fairly certain that such a thing-such a school-couldn't exist. And if it did exist, why did it remain hidden from her all these years?

It was easier to pretend like Hogwarts wasn't real than it was to pretend like they hadn't chosen Quinn.

But after reading the letter and seeing the owl...Quinn just knew that such a school existed and that Santana Lopez clearly held a spot in it. She could have been angry or jealous but mostly she just felt lonely. Lonely and a little hopeful that eventually her letter would come.

Two days after Santana had recieved her letter and Quinn had still gotten nothing.

For a second, Quinn had entertained the idea that she could have been extraordinary. But it turns out that Quinn Fabray was just meant to be average.

That realization hurt more than the bruises did.

Six days after Santana receives her letter and four days after Quinn has started pretending not to care, Santana shows up on her doorstep winded and unruly.

Santana pushes past Quinn's mother without a word and climbs Quinn's steps two at a time until she reaches Quinn's room. When she burst in, Quinn is barely functional, she's just staring at a wall thinking about all the things that could have been.

"Q, you have to see this!" Santana exclaimed excitedly.

Quinn shifted her focus over to her best friend and the letter that she was shoving into Quinn's hands. Quinn snapped out of her daydream and placed her eyes on the front of the letter that was in her hands. All Quinn acknowledged was the address on the front that read:

Ms. Lucy Q. Fabray (courtesy of one S. Lopez)

Room 3

Silverhood Street

Fabray (or perhaps Lopez) Residence

She barely let the front address sink in before Quinn teared it open. She read the first line that was pretty much identical-save for the name- to Santana's and Quinn just knew.

Quinn knew that she was special, that she'd be extraordinary. She knew that this life was never hers and that's why never quite fit into this family. Most of all, Quinn knew that this was because of Santana, that she saved Quinn...and Quinn couldn't have felt more grateful.

It's Quinn's mother who saves her next. Who compromises, pushes, and treads lightly until Russell -in his sick bed- is convinced that it was his idea to allow Quinn to go to Hogwarts.

Whatever Hogwarts is or isn't doesn't matter, because it's something and that something feels a lot like Quinn's future and happiness.

Quinn's father agrees to let her go under the condition that Quinn act as normal and superior as she can while at home. As if anything about their life had o ever been normal.

It's Santana who saves her always.

With her almost identical letter, her promises, and her unwavering faith. Santana promises and pushes until Quinn is utterly convinced that her future is this school.

(Not that she needed much convincing anyway).

In her heart of hearts, Quinn knew that this was the future that she wanted. No matter if this was real or imaginary. No matter if it was magic or a cruel joke. It didn't matter to Quinn if this future had to be kept a secret, as long as she got to be a part of something that was a secret.

Eleven years hardly made Quinn smart, but they also hardly made her stupid. She was old enough to recognize and separate her fathers dreams from her reality. Quinn knew what her father wanted and she knew what she needed. Quinn just couldn't be like them.

She wouldn't.