A/N: Welcome to 'A Rose's Thorns'. This is a story inspired by ProfessorScrooge's 'Call me Moriarty', wordhammer's 'Holly Evans and the Spiral Path', and some psychological analysis about Harry's personality. This story is about an intelligent Jasmine (F! Harry) Potter's tale as she makes her own mark on the Wizarding world. Beware, gender-bent characters and OOC incoming.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, this work is a work of non-profit fanfiction, not meant to infringe on anyone's rightful intellectual property. The rights to the HP universe belong to J.K. Rowling and her associate partners, and everything else recognizable is credited to their respective owners.
1981:
A cold November night saw a tabby cat with strangely arranged markings around its eyes sitting stiffly, stiffer than any normal cat could, on the perch of an unsuspecting house in Privet Drive, a street in Little Whinging, Surrey. When a muffled 'crack' broke the veil of silence that hung over the road, the stiff tabby cat could be seen transforming into a woman. She looked about forty-something years of age, had black hair done up in a bun that was covered by a witch hat, square spectacles over dark green eyes. Emerald green tartan robes covered a thin and tall frame that showed maturity and demanded respect by the way she carried herself.
Her stern gaze was set on a bearded old man currently holding some sort of lighter in his hand. When he used the lighter, the lights illuminating the streets of Privet Drive, one after another, floated towards said lighter and disappeared within the magical contraption, leaving Privet Drive in darkness.
"Albus, do you have her?" The woman asked the man wearing half-moon eyeglasses, her gaze unwavering.
"Patience, Minerva," Albus replied, his tone grandfatherly. "Hagrid has her," he added, blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
This set Minerva McGonagall off, though, as she knew about their gamekeeper's problems. "Albus, is it truly wise to leave young Jasmine in Hagrid's care?"
Albus only grinned. "My dear Minerva. I'd dare say that I know Hagrid as well as you do, and I also dare say I trust him with the girl."
A distinct rumbling that could only belong to an engine of a motorcycle could be heard nearing their Location as a light source, presumably the headlight, lit up Privet Drive. The bike, though, was not on the ground. It was flying and ridden by a giant of a man. Said man demounted the bike as it skidded to a halt on the ground, holding a little bundle of cloth in his arms as he made his way over to the other two individuals.
"Professor Dumbledore, professor McGonagall, I've got 'er," he said, nodding to the both of them whilst handing the baby over to Dumbledore, who quickly placed her in a crib that miraculously appeared in front of him.
As he moved to the door of a certain house Nr.4, McGonagall followed suit. She quickly voiced her concern after seeing that Dumbledore was intent on leaving her here. "Albus, you can't be serious! Leaving Jasmine with those muggles will make her childhood miserable!"
"But they are the only relatives she has left, Minerva," He explained, the house getting nearer and nearer.
"As her godmother, I cannot allow this, Albus. I've been watching them all day and they are certainly the worst type of muggles," Minerva said, intent on not letting Jasmine's childhood be sullied by the people living here.
Dumbledore halted in his step and faced her then, his grandfatherly tone saying: "But Minerva, she will only be safe near her relatives. And away from the magical world, away from prying eyes and her fame."
Minerva then conceded, thinking it imperative that she kept looking over her goddaughter, despite Albus' decision of leaving her here. "Albus, I'll have to warn you. If she's abused here in any way, there will be hell to pay," she told him, her stern demeanor not faltering in the slightest.
After a few more sentences from Albus assuring that Jasmine would be safe and healthy here Minerva finally conceded. They then left the baby on the doorstep, a note within an envelope lying on the Baby's blankets.
Little would they know that this would lead to a series events that would turn the world they knew upside down.
8 Years later:
"Get up, girl!" A gruff voice sounded outside of a cupboard, rousing the inhabitant from her sleep. The girl in question looked about 9 years old, had messy, shoulder length black hair that looked like it had seen better days and emerald green eyes that could gaze into a person's soul. Her frame, covered by pale skin, was short and diminutive, showing signs of malnourishment.
Her clothing was in a similar state to her hair in that it, also, had seen better days. Her tee was three sizes too big and seemed like it went a year without being washed or cleaned. The jeans she wore fit much the same description, much too wide, held at her thin waist only by a makeshift belt she had crafted from some duct tape she had found lying around in her cupboard. Her shoes looked like they've been drenched in mud and then left to dry, the white color having shifted into browner hues what looks like a long time ago.
As she sat up from the hard mattress that was her bed, she grabbed her round glasses and set them on her nose. Her thin lips showing a slight frown on her features as she reached up to caress her forehead and her scar.
The lightning-bolt-shaped scar she had received when she was still a little baby. The one that she acquired when her parents died. The one that had never healed over these years, not having faded or shrunk one bit when every other injury she acquired usually healed in about a day or so without medical treatment.
"Yes, uncle Vernon," she said, her lips in a scowl. "And the name is Jasmine."
As she got out of the cupboard and into the kitchen to make breakfast, like every morning, Vernon spoke up.
"Girl, we're going to your school today. Your teacher told me you're in trouble. What did you do this time, you freak?" His face was slowly turning purple as he said that, his anger rising.
"I've done nothing, uncle," Jasmine replied, her voice as innocent as she could muster. Her eyes, though, had an evil glint to them. 'Time for payback,' she thought as she finished the breakfast that she wasn't even allowed to eat.
About an hour later, Jasmine was sitting in the headmaster's office, along with her aunt and uncle. "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, I have something to discuss with you," The headmaster spoke as he got out a folder marked with the name Jasmine Potter.
"You see, your niece has shown superior intelligence compared to her peers. She doesn't fit in her grade," the headmaster continued, pulling several documents out of the folder. The documents were test results and all had one thing in common. They were all marked with the maximum amount of acquirable credits. "The teacher said that she didn't even need 10 minutes for a 45-minute final exam suited for grade 5, and yet she is the only one to receive full marks on it."
"So, she's a freak?" Vernon Dursley asked, his fat face morphing into what could be discerned as a grin.
"I'd not call her that," the headmaster replied, his face stern. "I'd put her into a grade 6 class, as she is a very talented and smart girl, well beyond her age."
A rumble stopped the headmaster from talking further, his gaze wandering to Jasmine, who was sitting across from him. "Are you hungry, Jasmine?" he asked, looking into her eyes.
"A bit, headmaster. I'm not allowed breakfast at home," she said, smiling softly. In her peripheral vision, she saw Petunia's face go pale. All was going according to her plan.
The headmaster then frowned as his gaze scanned her body, only then noticing that she was thinner than kids her age should be. He then noticed for the first time that Jasmine's outward appearance wasn't very refined and certainly showed signs of child abuse. As he then stared into her eyes, he shuddered. The cold, calculating gaze she sent him was nothing short of unnerving as he weighed his options.
"If you are thinking about whether my aunt and uncle have provided sufficient care for me, I believe it be imperative that you know at least some of the gross neglect they have decided to show their niece," Jasmine said, deducing that the headmaster was attempting to figure out what was happening to her at home.
"If you at least knew," she continued, "about what went on in that lovely schoolyard of yours, you'd see that I have been not only abused by those two at home, but by their uneducated fat oaf of a son as well. In your schoolyard, no less." She said that without breaking eye contact, rising from her chair.
"I know that that lovely window behind you has a nice view of the school courtyard, so I suggest you let me go into class and observe what is going on in your school right now. And then, you can finally decide to press charges for child abuse against those two." Jasmine now moved to the door, opened it and bowed before walking off.
Two hours of anxious anticipation for the Dursleys and two hours of sleeping in class for Jasmine later, she was indeed harassed by Dudley and his friends during break, as per usual. This time, though, the headmaster intervened and suspended them for a month.
He then approached Jasmine with an apology and, after class has ended, they found themselves back in the headmaster's office.
"I think," the headmaster said, "that a lot of things have escaped my attention recently. I must apologize, Jasmine."
"I have no reason to resent you, headmaster. You have done nothing to catch my ire, contrary to my relatives here." Jasmine then turned to face her aunt and uncle. "Aunt Petunia, I think you and I both know what will happen if you continue to treat me like some sort of slave at home, right? It'd be a shame if it came out that you treated your niece like a tool."
The headmaster only then grasped the severity of the situation at hand and saw what was happening to his most gifted student. Not only had she been abused at home, she was no better off at school either. "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," he started, "not only did you show your niece gross neglect and abuse, you have also obviously not taken the necessary steps to ensure that she has the proper means to further educate herself. Despite her young age, these cases are punishable by prison time and -"
He was interrupted by Jasmine holding up her hand to stop him from further saying anything. "I'm sure that this situation, despite me not minding seeing them in prison, can be easily amended if aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon would treat me properly from now on and somewhat compensate for their earlier misbehavior. I would, if they agreed to such, refrain from pressing charges against them. Spending time with 'family' would at least be more tolerable than in an orphanage."
Seeing his freak niece taking charge and disobeying his will like that, Vernon's face was quick to change into a purple color, showing his anger. "You little -"
He was interrupted by Petunia, who hit him in his ribs with her elbow. "I'm sure we'd find an agreement that will be amenable for all the parties involved," she said, her tone placating.
A while after that, an angry Vernon and a relieved Petunia left the office after Jasmine. When they got home, they made sure to cancel most of Dudley's privileges and moved Jasmine up to the empty guest room. They then told her they'd take her out shopping tomorrow for books and clothing.
Two years later, Jasmine had effectively graduated high school a few days before her 11th birthday. She was a prodigy in academics and effectively out-witted most high school students 5 years her senior. She demanded, though, that no one except for her aunt and uncle, who paid for her tuition, knew of her academic success.
Her relationship with said relatives wasn't any less frosty than what it was two years ago. They still resented her and she still met them in kind with more than they initially thought possible for a then-9-now11-year-old child. But then again, they feared her more than they should fear a normal child that was barely in her teens.
On her 11th birthday, Minerva McGonagall decided to personally bring Jasmine the acceptance letter for Hogwarts school for witchcraft and wizardry. She apparated to an intersection near the Dursley's house and walked the short way over to Nr.4 Privet Drive. Three curt knocks later she stood face to face with the rather fat Vernon Dursley.
"Hello, Mr. Dursley," she started, "I believe I have a goddaughter to greet."
Vernon quickly scanned McGonagall up and down, from her pointed hat to her emerald green tartan robes. He quickly deduced that she must be one of those freaks who first put that thrice-damned girl on their doorstep. "What do you freaks want from us? There's no girl living in our household." With that, Vernon slammed the door closed.
If he hadn't been stopped by McGonagall, who had quickly drawn her wand and cast a stasis spell on the door. "Tut tut tut, Mr. Dursley. You know well enough that Jasmine lives here," Minerva chastised, before casting a Sonorus and shouting "Jasmine?"
Hearing her name being called by an unfamiliar voice, Jasmine quickly came downstairs from her room to face whoever had called her. It was then that Minerva saw that her goddaughter had grown up.
She was elegantly dressed for a girl her age and the way she carried herself betrayed the fact that she was more mature than her 11 years suggested. A pristine white dress shirt coupled with a midnight blue plaid skirt that went to her knees, black tights and black shoes with just an inch of heel made her look like someone from noble descent.
Her face had somewhat matured as well. A lot of the baby fat she had when she was a little toddler was gone as soon as she was mistreated by the Dursleys, leaving her with a slim, more defined face than an 11-year-old child should have. Elegant black-rimmed glasses on her nose, slim frame, still pale complexion and high cheekbones gave her the looks of a 15 or so year-old girl, minus the curves that were certainly going to show in her later years. Her black hair now went down to the middle of her back and it was evident that she took good care of it in the recent years.
The last defining features of Jasmine's were those bright green eyes that showed intelligence and cunning far beyond her age and that lightning-bolt shaped scar that just wouldn't go away no matter how long had passed.
"Yes?" Jasmine was now facing Minerva, scanning her with a suspicious gaze.
Minerva McGonagall smiled. "Hello, Jasmine," she spoke, "my name is Minerva McGonagall, and I've got something for you. Now if your uncle would be so kind as to let us discuss this somewhere more comfortable?" Her tone left no argument and one look from Jasmine silenced any objection Vernon could have had.
"Hello, Miss McGonagall," Jasmine greeted, "I'm sure we could move this to the dining room. I'll serve us some tea as something tells me that this matter is not lightly spoken of." With that, she made her way to the kitchen and started boiling water, Minerva following suit.
As they both settled down, Minerva handed Jasmine her letter and smiled. "Read it," she asked of the girl.
Jasmine opened the letter and read its contents, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. As she was done, she eyed McGonagall with a suspicious glance.
"Is this some kind of prank?" Jasmine asked, very suspicious about the contents of this letter.
As she said that, the teapot she had set down a minute ago levitated itself and poured some of its contents into McGonagall's cup. Then, the sugar jar levitated itself and a teaspoon of sugar flew into said teacup.
"Let me assure you that this is certainly not a prank," Minerva said, smiling softly. "Alas, why would I decide to prank my own goddaughter?"
Realization hit Jasmine like a brick as her eyes widened in sudden understanding, putting all the facts together. "So… Magic exists?" She asked, tentatively.
"Yes, Jasmine, magic exists. Now… if you'd be up for it I'd like to spend some time with you," Minerva said, her smile a bit wider now.
"Of course, I would, Miss McGonagall," Jasmine replied, still somewhat unsure. "So, you know my parents?" Her voice carried a sliver of hope now.
"Yes, I do," Minerva replied, pulling out a moving photo of two people dancing. The man had black, messy hair the same shade as Jasmine's and the woman had Jasmine's eyes. "They were wonderful people, and my favorite students of their year," she added, handing Jasmine the picture.
It was then that jasmine picked up some inconsistencies in her aunt and uncle's tales of her parents. According to them, her parents were good for nothing drunks and died in a car crash. Relaying that message to McGonagall, her expression became one of unbridled fury as she almost ripped the Dursleys to shreds with only her words.
It was only then Jasmine noticed that she had no idea what her relationship with Minerva McGonagall was. "Ummm… Miss McGonagall, how should I address you? While it is apparent that you've been appointed my godmother by my parents, we are still strangers, as matter of fact. I'm sure you'd like me to be on a first name basis, perchance, but it seemed impolite to do so without asking beforehand."
This question and the following observations made it clear to Minerva that the girl she was talking to was more mature than her age suggested, 'and smarter as well,' she silently mused. She smiled softly at that notion. "You may call me Minerva, Jasmine. Or perchance you'd prefer a more familiar term? If you feel comfortable enough, you can feel free to call me 'mum'. I feel that you've been neglected as a child and never shown a mother's love, and I'd like to rectify that."
Five minutes later, Minerva had Jasmine walking out of the Dursleys' house, all the things she needed for the remainder of the summer packed into a trunk she shrunk and put into her pocket.
Another five minutes later and she was in Diagon Alley, explaining the wizarding world and enjoying the look of pure wonderment in her goddaughter's eyes. That look quickly turned into one of delight when she spotted Flourish and Blotts for the first time.
"Ummm… mum? Could I have some books?" Jasmine asked, the excitement obvious in her voice.
Wanting to indulge her goddaughter but also knowing that she had to get Jasmine some money of her own first, she conceded that they'd visit the bookstore first thing after getting Jasmine some money from the Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
Two exhilarating cart rides, a bunch of Goblins and a vault full of Galleons later, Jasmine was standing outside of Gringotts with a huge smile on her face. The things she could accomplish with that amount of money was already in her mind as she planned some of the things she would do.
Everything would have to wait, though, as she intended on buying out half the bookstore right now.
Half an hour later Jasmine left Flourish and Blotts with a crate of fifty books in her pocket and her wallet several Galleons lighter. After that, the two witches went to Ollivander's to outfit Jasmine with a wand of her own.
"Welcome," Ollivander, the shopkeeper, greeted as he saw the two witches enter. "Miss Potter. I've been expecting you." He pulled out a wand from a shelf as he went, handing it to Jasmine. "Give it a wave."
As Jasmine waved the wand, the mock wand in the display window broke, and Ollivander quickly snatched the wand from her hand. "Not this one, then," he muttered, handing her another wand.
A few dozens of wands and an equal amount of bad results later, they finally found a wand that fit Jasmine. It was 11 inches long, made from holly and had a phoenix feather core.
"Interesting," Ollivander said, "the phoenix which gave your wand its core only gave me two feathers. And the other feather is responsible for the scar you have on your forehead, Miss Potter."
After briefly pondering this fact, Jasmine paid for the wand and went back out into the alley. This information was going to be of use to her later. She was certain of that.
After that, the two witches proceeded to get Jasmine everything else she needed for her first year at Hogwarts and eventually decided to retire to Minerva's flat in Hogwarts. They spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other, explaining Jasmine's past and said young witch learning some simple magic from her godmother.
It was during the time spent bonding that Jasmine felt, for the first time in her life, some stirring of warmth in her previously cold heart. It was, as she came to describe it, not an unpleasant feeling in the least.
It was three weeks after Jasmine turned 11 when Minerva McGonagall stood in her apartment in Hogwarts castle, utterly amazed at what she saw. She noticed that there was a new intricate tea set on her coffee table, cushions for the chairs in her office, a cat bed, out of all things, in her bedroom along with a fluffy mouse chew toy.
As she checked into Jasmine's room, she noticed a cauldron boiling over the enchanted fire, happily sizzling away. The steam from said cauldron went into a hood equipped with banishing charms. Upon closer inspection – and referencing the textbook that was on Jasmine's desk – Minerva found out that the potion currently brewing was the moderately difficult all-purpose antidote for uncommon poisons.
An unusually large black and white owl flew through the room's open windows and landed gracefully before Minerva. As she eyed the big owl suspiciously, it transformed and she was face to face with her goddaughter, wearing a cheeky grin and mirth in her eyes.
"Welcome home, mum," Jasmine greeted, poking her still shocked godmother in the arm once she noted the elder witch's state of shock.
As the elder witch slowly came to her senses, though, she noticed the pile of transfiguration textbooks standing on Jasmine's bookshelf. She also noted that those were more complex than OWL-level transfiguration.
"I have to assume that you've been busy studying," Minerva enquired, having a general idea on what the 11-year-old child spent her time alone on after she taught her the first bit of magic.
After having found out that her goddaughter was a prodigy in muggle schools, she really shouldn't have expected that Jasmine wouldn't be talented witch.
"You've left me here, alone, if I may add, for two weeks, mum," Jasmine complained, "I've literally got nothing to do here except for studying and practicing spells."
That brought a contemplative look to Minerva's face, which then quickly morphed into a small, reserved smile. "I guess not," she finally said. "I assume you're more than ready to take your Transfiguration OWLs already?" She asked this question because she suddenly had something in mind.
"I would suppose so… although the more complicated spells would drive me into magical exhaustion when used in quick succession. I don't think you'd have a solution to that, though?" Jasmine's answer made the elder witch's eyes widen, as she had, for a moment, forgotten that Jasmine was only 11 years old.
"I do suppose that's an issue," Minerva started, her tone contemplative. "But I think we could just stretch out the practical exams over the next week so you won't exhaust yourself. That being said, I'd like to know if you'd like to help me instruct first years this year? I'd get the headmaster to approve, I'm certain."
Jasmine's eyes widened like saucers as she heard her godmother say that. 'An opportunity to work together with mum and essentially skipping on one of the subjects? That's great,' she thought as she quickly nodded her affirmative.
She then proceeded to start on dinner, waving her wand casually. Minerva looked on in wonder as her goddaughter started cutting the vegetables, steaming the rice and seasoning the meat, all at the same time and herself only using magic to coordinate the task.
About half an hour later, the two witches sat at the dinner table, eating the dinner and discussing what Jasmine had done during the two weeks Minerva was in London doing business.
"I honestly couldn't think of many different pastimes here, as there really wasn't much to do," Jasmine recounted, "so I resorted to the things I usually did when I'm bored. Reading. In the muggle world, knowledge is considered almost an equivalent to power. I imagine it little different in the magical world."
Minerva smiled at Jasmine's diligence to learn and didn't doubt that she'd eventually end up in Ravenclaw if she continued her current studious behavior. It goes without saying that she had inherited much of her mother's intelligence and talent, especially when it comes to charms and transfiguration. "You're quite right, Jasmine. Although one also must consider the magical prowess of a person to truly see their power. There is a saying in the muggle world that I like to quote in these situations: 'neither will alone nor force alone will grant true power.' I believe the analogy is fairly apparent."
"Quite true," Jasmine said, smiling. "Oh, and mum, did you know," Jasmine continued, "that the magical world is full of bigots, sexists, fanatics, and racists? I imagine you do, as you've been living and growing up here."
That startled said witch, though, and prompted her to think about what Jasmine just said. It certainly does seem like the magical world is full of bigoted, blood puristic, sexist and racist people, especially those in the higher echelons of society.
As Minerva's father was a muggle himself, she did have a bit of experience looking at the world from a non-magical perspective. All these years she has spent in this world, though, dulled her perception and she adopted this world as her own.
"I mean… this world is certainly opinionated when it comes to certain subjects -" the elder witch started, but was quickly interrupted by Jasmine, who seemed to pick up on her discomfort.
"I apologize, I'm… not really adept at this 'polite conversation' thing… It seems that I lack the emotional sensitivity and the capacity to properly show emotion, which most people seem to acquire growing up. And… upon further self-examination, I feel that I don't really fit in either society, be it muggle or magical, at all." As Jasmine said this, her tone was calm and her demeanor was neutral. But it truly didn't take a genius to see that Jasmine was dealing with some issues of her own.
This shocked the elder witch for the second time this day, as she quietly thought about what that statement meant, both implicitly and explicitly. Jasmine seemed to have trouble picking up on emotion and is rather estranged to human interaction. In fact, she seems estranged from the concept of human contact altogether, which spoke volumes about her early childhood. "Dumbledore…" she muttered, followed by a series of curses that would make sailors blush and a silent promise to protect the young witch in front of her.
"It's alright, Jasmine. It'll come with time, I'm sure."
After that assurance, Jasmine smiled weakly and resumed eating her dinner. She had most certainly picked up on her godmother's curses and was now wondering what that was all about. After that, only little conversation was deemed necessary by the witches as they finished their dinners in relative silence, both pondering about something the other said in the last few minutes.
Two days later, Jasmine had finished her written Transfiguration OWL, visited Diagon Alley again with Minerva and had the pleasure, or displeasure, to watch said witch having a very serious conversation with Albus Dumbledore about leaving her goddaughter to be abused by her relatives. During this time, she grew to truly respect the righteous fury that Minerva McGonagall had when she was truly angry about something.
Jasmine also noticed the sharp wit of her godmother as she has deduced quite a few issues Jasmine had just by looking at her and observing her quirks and mannerisms. Jasmine kept her emotions very close to heart and her thought process is driven by logic and rationality, even when facing extreme conditions. Her lack of human interaction, along with her near-photographic memory, made her sharper than most and yet dense, to an extent. When reading people, only a glance is enough to deduce a major part of their lives, but she is near incapable of picking up on subtle emotions and people's feelings about her statements. That may also be a reason for her preferring books to keep her company.
And despite having had some semblance of interaction with her godmother, she was still more or less an enigma to Jasmine. Whilst the glaringly obvious facts hinted at the fact that she was a strict, no-nonsense woman, the kindness she displayed at times was baffling and a stark contrast to the strictness she displayed otherwise. Additionally, her ability to read Jasmine, and other people, was uncanny. Jasmine wasn't sure if she liked it or not.
Jasmine also noted that her godmother was an easy-going person but had, according to herself, the strictest policies in the classroom amongst the Hogwarts professors. Again, that set her apart from all the one-dimensional people Jasmine has met thus far. She then realized how truly boring people could be and the true value of a companion who understood her on an intellectual level.
The two witches were sitting, once again, at the dinner table, this time enjoying some pizza Jasmine has baked. The discussion between the two was kept mostly casual until Jasmine brought up the issue of her being famous. "Say, mum, what do you think I should do to keep a low profile?"
Minerva went thoughtful at the younger witch's words, unsure of what advice to give her. "Hmmm… Do you not like being famous?"
"I just think it illogical that I'd be famous for something that cost my parents their lives… If I were ever to be famous, and I don't detest the idea, I'd like it due to something I've accomplished myself."
"I see. I'd then suggest you changing your last name to your mother's maiden name for now. That way, all your options, including the seat at the Wizengamot, are still open to you when you come of age. I suggest visiting Gringotts tomorrow to get it done."
"Wait, I have a Wizengamot seat?"
"Three, actually. Two from steward families that are under the Potter banner."
Jasmine's eyes widened at the implications of Minerva's words. So many possibilities were opened to her if she only had access to the seats that were rightfully hers. Furthermore, this brought her attention to the fact that her parents never had a will. Deciding to inquire about that, she asked her next question.
"Whilst the Wizengamot seats won't be of any use until I'm of age, I'd like to know what has become of my parents' wills. I assume that somebody has prevented the reading of said wills, as I've never even known about anything pertaining my family's fortunes before."
At this question, a small, reserved smile appeared on Minerva's face. She was certain that Jasmine's inquisitive and analytical nature would have found this to be suspicious sooner than later. The fact that she's found out so quickly was a pleasant surprise to her. "I'm sure Gringotts has a copy, Jasmine. Yet another reason to head there."
And so, Jasmine's plan to visit Gringotts the next day was finalized. The conversation topics then turned to the lesson plans and Jasmine's Transfiguration OWLs, which she was passing with flying colors.
The next morning was spent with Jasmine finishing her Transfiguration practical exams, leaving her exhausted until lunch. That was spent with a very happy Minerva, no doubt due to Jasmine's outstanding exam results.
In the afternoon, the two had an appointment to make in Gringotts Wizarding Bank to view the Potter will and, hopefully, changing Jasmine's last name.
The two strolled into the now somewhat familiar halls of the bank to meet their Goblin accountant.
"Ah. Miss Potter, correct?" The Goblin at the front desk inquired, meeting her green eyes with an expression that passed as a toothy grin.
"Quite," she replied, "I believe we have an appointment here, as my magical guardian has made an appointment with my parents' accountant regarding their wills. If you'd be able to show us to a room, I'd be grateful for the assistance."
The Goblin at the front desk was surprised at Jasmine's behavior. Not only was she polite, but she didn't seem to feel superior in comparison to Goblins. 'The young one regards us as equals in business,' he mused, his long-fingered hand reaching out and pointing at a hallway in the left. "Your accountant is waiting in the third room along the corridor, Miss Potter."
Grinning and thanking the Goblin, who acknowledged it with a nod, she walked towards the corridor that was guarded by two Goblins holding crossed halberds. As she approached, the guardians held their weapons to their sides, granting the two witches passage.
Entering the room, they saw a square redwood table with piles of documents stacked neatly in the center and three comfortable looking chairs. The Goblin sitting in one of the chairs looked up and greeted them politely. "Miss Potter, Professor McGonagall, I am Barchoke, the senior accountant for the Potter accounts."
"Greetings, Barchoke. I have some questions regarding my parents' wills and my current vault."
"Ah yes. The Potter vaults. One of the most Ancient and Noble houses and one of the first houses to open a vault here. One vault quickly became insufficient to the house as their fortunes multiplied, no doubt due to their keen sense of business. The vault you currently have access to, Miss Potter, is but a small part of the immense Potter fortune."
"My apologies," Jasmine interrupted, "that is very nice, but I am quite aware of most of these historical facts already."
"Ah. A scholarly one, I see. On to the will, then. Your parents have left copies of their wills in Gringotts, for they feared that they are not to be executed by the Wizengamot. Gringotts was granted executive power over the wills by your parents shortly before their passing. Despite that, though, the Chief Warlock has sealed the Potter will. Gringotts then has refrained from executing the will as it could have caused political problems without an entitled executive intent behind the wills. We had our hands bound."
"Your so-called entitled executive intent would be my desire to have the will read, correct?"
Barchoke grinned. "Yes, Miss Potter. Shall we head down to the vault, then? I'm sure you'd like to see it read as soon as possible."
At Jasmine's nod and words of confirmation, Barchoke waved a hand and a doorway appeared, revealing a Gringotts cart. "This will take us down to the Potter family vault, Miss Potter. If you'd follow me."
Following Barchoke and mounting the cart, Jasmine and Minerva were quickly transported down to Gringotts vault Nr.507, the Potter family vault. Demounting the cart and tracing his finger along the middle of the vault door, Barchoke opened the door to the vault.
The vault revealed itself to be more like a library than a vault inside, books were neatly arranged on shelves against the wall and a dark wooden desk sat at the end of the vault. Only at the desk itself Jasmine saw the money storage system, someone - probably her parents - decided to implement for the vault. A panel displaying a very large number was built inside the desk, next to it a stack of strips of parchment and an ever-lasting quill. Two openings could be found, one round and large enough for a bag of coins and another thin and rectangular, just large enough for the stripes of parchment to fit in.
Barchoke then took a stripe of parchment, wrote the word 'will' on it, and put it into the small opening. Then, the drawer beneath the desk, which no one had noticed before, opened, displaying the Potter will, sealed with the Potter seal. Retrieving the letter, Barchoke noted the inscription on the front of the envelope: 'This will is ONLY to be opened by the direct descendant of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, and ONLY if the will stored in Wizengamot chambers hasn't been read upon James and Lily Potter's demise.'
Taking the letter from Barchoke, a golden glow surrounded Jasmine briefly and the wax seal disappeared. Jasmine asked: "I believe that opening it is in order now?"
After a nod from Barchoke and Minerva, Jasmine opened the letter to read what her parents have written.
"This is the last will of James and Lily Potter, composed when under control of all mental faculties and good health. This testament invalidates the will left in the Ministry of Magic the moment this document is unsealed and was written in the event of neither of the persons above surviving the war and the version of the testament stated above being put into stasis by the Wizengamot. Any and all claims on the Potter vaults and Potter fortunes by other persons than the ones stated below are hereby null and void. Additionally, all funds withdrawn in loco parentis or otherwise without the consent of Potter heirs by individuals not named in the bequeaths or otherwise authorized are to return to the vault with an interest of 1% p. a. Of course, withdrawals on basis of bills and business are unaffected.
To Jasmine Lily Potter:
Jasmine, your dad and I love you very much and we wish that this document will never fall into your hands. Because if it did, as you are reading now, we will be gone from this world and our previous will regarding you was disregarded. Your father and I would have given anything to remain by your side, but put your safety first. We joined this war to create a better world for you to live in, fully aware that this might cost us our lives. Never doubt that we loved you, and remember that we always will love you. As for reasons above, we assume that you did not spend your childhood in the care of your godparents, Minerva McGonagall and Sirius Black.
We went into hiding due to the insistence of one Albus Dumbledore, because of a prophecy being made about a child bearing the power to defeat Lord Voldemort. We suspected that the child was you. Voldemort then targeted us, and we left Potter Manor in favor of a house placed under the Fidelius charm, located in Godric's Hollow. Everyone thought that your godfather was our secret keeper, but as Lily cast the charm, we deemed it better to have a diversion and let Peter Pettigrew become the secret keeper. If you are hearing this, either Peter has betrayed us or we were caught outside of our house in the brief moments we needed to conduct family affairs outside the house.
We would have loved nothing more than to be with you and witness you grow into a wonderful young lady, but we knew our risks when we joined the fight against Voldemort. We only hope that you've grown up in a world without all the troubles that we faced in the war, and that you've grown up happy.
Truly, though, we both now know that this is most likely not the case if you are reading this, but wish you whatever happiness we can muster for your future.
Now, on to the bequeaths.
To Minerva McGonagall, Jasmine's magical guardian and godmother, you were my favorite teacher and, after my years in Hogwarts, a close and true friend and confidante. Despite the serious air you put up, I'd like you to know that it is, in fact, okay and recommended to have fun once in a while. I hope that Jasmine will learn a lot from you, both in Transfiguration and in life. I hope you'll be a guiding light in her life and give her the love of a mother. I leave to you a sum of one hundred thousand Galleons and our houses in Hogsmeade and Edinburgh. I wish that you and Jasmine might find some family in each other, the family you both never truly had. With regards, Lily.
To Remus John Lupin, I leave you a sum of one hundred thousand Galleons, hopefully, to end your financial worries once and for all. There's no return receipt on it, Moony. I'd hope you'll find a wonderful woman to eventually settle down with, as your brilliant mind will certainly not allow any less than that. That's why I'll also be leaving you with the house westwards of Potter Manor we purchased a while back. It was intended to be yours anyway, so there's no returning that either. Most of all, though, I ask of you to be there for Jasmine and help Minerva in any way you can. With regards, James.
To Sirius Orion Black, I leave a symbolic sum of one Galleon and the Marauder's journal that is in the family vault. I know that you won't need the money, Sirius and that you'd ignore the will and give it back to Jasmine anyways. You were my brother in all but blood and I'm sure Lily also saw you as such. I'm so sorry that I've left you here, but I'm sure that we'll meet one another again, eventually. Until then, James.
We leave the rest of our belongings to our daughter, Jasmine Lily Potter. She is to have full access to all Potter vaults for reasonable purchases and usage of funds the moment this will is enacted. The tuition for Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry was already paid in full. We expect you to do well in school, Jasmine. We would like to note that the previous will stated that her vaults will be inaccessible until Jasmine's coming of age.
If Minerva McGonagall was killed in the war and before the reading of the will, we leave Jasmine's custody to the next people on this list.
Sirius Orion Black
Remus John Lupin
Edgar & Amelia Bones
Robert McGonagall
If the unthinkable has happened and all the people above are deceased, we ask that Jasmine be independent and recognized as magical adult if she displays the emotional and mental maturity of an adult person. If this is not the case, Jasmine is to be placed with a light-aligned wizarding family. Under no circumstances is Jasmine to be placed with Lily's brother-in-law, Vernon Dursley, who is known to despise magic and the magical world.
Signed and verified by
James Potter
Lily Potter (nee Evans)
Witnessed by
Sirius Orion Black
Remus John Lupin."
After reading the will, the three individuals there were silent, each processing the will's contents silently. The prophecy, the family fortunes, the houses, Jasmine's parents' words and contingencies. Jasmine wanted, no, needed time to process that.
Minerva fared no different. Knowing that Sirius Black, a man she believed to be a betrayer, was innocent made her think about the different dubious actions of several different individuals at certain times. The elder witch then thought about the words directly directed at her, unshed tears in her eyes. 'I've failed them,' she thought, 'but I won't fail them anymore. I'm sorry, Lily. I'm sorry, James. I'm sorry, Jasmine.'
Sensing her godmother's distress, and quickly deducing the reason for said distress, Jasmine had Minerva in a tight, if a little awkward, embrace, whispering to her: "It's alright, mum. You're here now, and that's all that matters. Don't beat yourself up over others' mistakes."
Once again Minerva was amazed by Jasmine's perceptiveness, but she returned the hug nonetheless. When they parted, Minerva apologized to Jasmine for not checking up on her and leaving her with the Dursleys.
"It's alright, mum. You couldn't have known that it'd be that bad. Also, I can hardly blame you for trying to keep me safe… although that part didn't work out very well."
After that, Barchoke spoke up. "Lady Potter, I shall see the will executed as soon as possible. If you'd follow me, please."
One cart ride later and they found themselves back in Barchoke's office, where he procured a heavy looking redwood case inscribed with runes and a needle. "Lady Potter, we will need three drops of blood on the case to bind the vaults to your name. And you'll need to hand out your key to the trust vault, please."
Taking the proffered vault key and vanishing it, he mentioned for Jasmine to prick her finger with the needle. Three drops of blood later, the little wound on Jasmine's finger disappeared, the needle disappeared and a silver glow surrounded the case as a few clicks could be heard.
Barchoke opened the case and produced a ring, upon which three silver keys hung, handing them to Jasmine. All of them had the Potter crest engraved on the Bow, the words 'trust', 'family' and 'business' carved beneath the crests.
Taking the keys, Jasmine thanked Barchoke and moved on to the second reason for her appointment. "I'd like to change my last and middle name if that's possible."
"Certainly, Lady Potter. Although I must advise against any radical family name changes, as it could lead to several different political issues you might find less than pleasant." Barchoke's reply had Jasmine thinking, mostly about the implications of going back to her mother's maiden name.
She decided to simply push the question, as asking couldn't hurt. "Is it possible to go back to my mother's maiden name? I'd like to keep all the fame off my name and still have a connection to my family."
"That is certainly possible, Lady Potter. I suggest a double last name, for it would be the easiest way to circumvent the possible political problems that might occur. So, your name would be Jasmine Evans-Potter, with the latter part of the last name falling away in all the contracts that don't require your full name. As far as I know, only the marriage contract and some rare contracts not worth mentioning would dictate such a thing, so you'd be widely known as Jasmine Evans."
Jasmine smiled softly, thinking it a good idea. She'd keep herself out of any problems and masked her fame. "Thank you, Barchoke. And I'd think to go with 'Rose' for my middle name. It'd make people connecting me to my family even harder if I didn't share my middle name with my mother's first name."
Barchoke then procured the required documents and a blood quill to sign it. "Use this quill to sign the document, please. It will seal the contract and legally change your name to whatever you sign."
After Jasmine signed 'Jasmine Rose Evans-Potter' on the parchment, a glow once again surrounded her and the parchment, the parchment rolling up and a wax seal appearing out of thin air upon it.
"Well, Lady Evans," Barchoke spoke, "It'd appear that your change of title is successful. The Ministry of Magic has already been informed, along with everyone else that needed to be notified.
"Thank you, Barchoke. It was pleasant doing business with you. I look forward to many shared profits and prosperity for us in the future." Jasmine then stood up, holding a hand out towards the Goblin.
"You are most welcome, Lady Evans. The pleasure was all mine. May your future be firmly set on the roads of prosperity." Barchoke stood up as well, taking Jasmine's hand and shaking it as he spoke. "I shall see the rest of your parents' wills enacted, Lady Evans."
Minerva and Jasmine returned to Hogwarts after that, enjoying some Chinese cuisine courtesy of Jasmine. The conversation was mainly about Jasmine's parents' past, including several anecdotes and little stories about James's and Lily's times at Hogwarts.
"Jasmine, as the school year will begin in a few days, and we need lesson plans for the first years. I'll be sending you to King's Cross Station for the Hogwarts Express on September 1st if you want to. If not, you can simply join the other first years in the Great Hall with me."
"As much as I'd love to avoid additional human interaction, you and I both know that it'd be best to get to know my peers earlier than later." After Jasmine said that, a snowy owl flew through the open window and landed on Jasmine's shoulder.
Minerva just smiled. "This, my dear, is Hedwig. I've purchased her from Eyelops Owl Emporium in Diagon Alley. I think you'll enjoy flying with her and having a familiar, as she is yours."
"Thank you, mum." Jasmine once again felt something stir in her chest. It was the feeling of happiness, warmth, and love she had come to feel once in a while over the last few weeks.
The witches spent the next few days making lesson plans, finalizing some more paperwork, getting some of Lily's notes on advanced transfiguration for Minerva and, for Jasmine, reading up some more on other subjects and flying with Hedwig.
On the morning of September first, Jasmine was at King's Cross in London, waiting to board the Hogwarts Express for her new school year. Her school trunk was left with Professor McGonagall to lessen the burden.
She stood there, between platforms nine and ten, dressed in a short-sleeved sky-blue shirt, black plaid skirt, black tights and midnight blue ballet flats. A long grey coat completed her outfit to ward her from the early autumn morning chill.
Taking her glasses off and wiping them with a corner of her coat, she found herself bored out of her wits as she waited for the portal to be open. 'At least no one will stare at that stupid scar on my forehead', she thought, having used self-transfiguration to hide the scar.
Casting one last glance at the muggle half of King's Cross Station, Jasmine left the muggle world, swearing that she'd only return for her own business and on her own terms.
A/N: I believe that I should leave things here for the time being. The next chapter will feature the trip to Hogwarts castle, the Sorting and the first few days of school. Please review and let me know if this is something I should continue or not, and if there are any inconsistencies in terms of storytelling, as I am still pretty new to writing. I do appreciate encouragement and criticism, so don't refrain from saying your mind. The following chapters will be about this length and updates should be expected about once or twice a month. There's simply no way I could do anything better than that.