Title: Stupid Ambitions For A Witch

Pairings: Rachel/Puck, Rachel/Jesse, Puck/Rachel

Fandoms: Characters from the Glee universe, living in the Harry Potter world without Harry Potter characters. Make sense? It does in my mind anyway.

Genre: Romance/Drama/Humour/Fantasy Hybrid.

A/N: Okay, so I haven't written any fanfiction in a long long time now! I may be a little rusty but I think I can handle it. This story is going to be from Rachel Berry's POV. She is a seventh year Hogwarts student in Slytherin house. Before I get questions asking why she's in that house, I will say that not all Slytherin's are evil - case proven by Severus Snape - but they are known for their ambition - just like Rachel is!

Rachel Berry stared at the letter a tawny brown Hogwarts owl had clutched in her tiny beak. It bore the Hogwarts seal, which hadn't surprised her at all. She'd been confidently expecting it. Rachel fed the owl a small treat in exchange for the parchment and watched it fly away before she hurried downstairs. Her hands were shaking as her face lit up with a massive, show-stopping grin. She had a look that could cure cancer.

"Dad! Daddy! Look what came in the mail," she sang, bursting into the kitchen to the shock of her two fathers.

Hiram Berry's face lit up with a grin much like his daughters. "Well, open it!" he exclaimed before dramatically winking, "I bet it's from Dumbledore himself."

Rachel pulled a chair out from under the dining table and took a seat next to Logan Berry, who had not yet looked up from his newspaper. "Dad," she smiled, "This is a big moment for me. Being Head Girl is one of the stepping stones that lead to my dream of being a star on Broadway."

Logan glanced up from the Daily Prophet and forced himself to grimace. He was usually very supportive of his daughter, but he just didn't understand her fixation with Muggle musical theatre.

"I just don't see why you're so set on- on this Broadway thing, sweetheart," he whined as Hiram frowned, "Why not follow the family business and become a Healer?"Rachel tried not to show her annoyance. "Dad, it is impossible to follow the family business as we don't actually have one."

"But-"

"Our angel is right, Logan," Hiram chuckled, "We don't actually own St. Mungo's."

Logan spluttered incoherently, "Well, of course I know that! It was just- I was-"

"Don't strain yourself," Hiram replied in a mocking yet soothing tone, lovingly slapping his partner on the back. He turned to Rachel, "Open the letter, sunshine."

Rachel looked at her two fathers and stopped herself from rolling her eyes. They were so different; she didn't know how they were in love. She was extremely against opposites attracting. How could she ever fall in love with someone who disagreed with everything she believed in?

Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, she tore open the envelope without hesitation. When she was younger she'd always quickly ripped off the bandaid instead of slowly peeling it away. She did it so that the pain was lessened.

Hands shaking slightly, she unrolled the parchment in a hurry. The usual typed words regarding supplies needed for the upcoming school year covered the entirety of the first page. Unfazed, Rachel didn't bother to read them just yet. She needed to see writing confirming what she'd been dreaming of since her first year at Hogwarts. She turned the parchment over, expecting to see a small, personal message written by Dumbledore himself.

She didn't find one.

Hiram noticed his daughter's face fall immediately. He had a sixth sense for Rachel's feelings and thoughts. "Perhaps another letter will come," he offered, his own voice wary. He somehow knew that no more letters would come.

"No," Rachel said, putting the letter down on the dining table and giving him a weak smile, "They send it with the supplies list."

Hiram immediately reached for his daughter, pulling her into his arms for a big bear hug. Rachel buried her head against his shoulder and waited for the tears to come. After a minute or so, she realised that they hadn't. Feeling strange, she excused herself from the kitchen and once again made her way upstairs to her bedroom. She always cried when she was alone.

She gently pushed open the door, slipping inside the quaint room. The baby pink walls loomed up around her, enclosing her from the rest of the world. As she stared at the countless Broadway posters and Slytherin banners plastered on the walls, she wondered why she wasn't crying.

"What's wrong with me?" Rachel whispered dramatically, slowly sitting on her luxurious double bed. She sat with her hands curled in her lap, her feet side by side and her back incredibly straight. Although she didn't practice ballet as often as she would've liked, she danced often enough to have achieved her incredible posture. Due to Hogwarts being a boarding school, Rachel could only attend ballet lessons irregularly. Sometimes, she wished she had been born a Muggle.

She immediately regretted thinking that. She was reminded of the strange Squib who lived on her street. His name was Jacob and he'd been in love with her since he was born, practically. Never once had she felt any sort of feelings for the creepy Jewish boy. In fact, never once had she felt any sort of feelings for anyone other than Jesse St. James.

Jesse St. James, in Rachel's opinion, was the sexiest being to ever grace the stone floors of the Hogwarts Dungeons. With his tousled hair and confident personality, Rachel could barely resist him. But most importantly, Jesse was the only wizard she had ever met who both understood and appreciated musical theatre. In fact, Jesse's biggest dream was to perform. He was a model Slytherin and adored by many.

Jesse would surely be Head Boy. He never let anything – or anyone - get in his way.

With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Rachel realised that she had never really engaged in a proper conversation with the boy. The full extent of their relationship was a few remarks about the weather here and there, which she herself had made. When she was lucky, he had actually turned and looked at her when he replied.

It's not as if Jesse were rude, Rachel immediately ammended inside her head. It was the fact that she wasn't particularly well-liked at Hogwarts. Known for being bossy and demanding, she had scared away almost all possible friends by the end of first year. Most boys were terrified of her, and not, as Rachel believed, because they felt inferior when in comparison to her. She was just a little too terrifying.

The tears still hadn't arrived. Rachel, frustrated and upset, pulled back the blankets and climbed into bed. She didn't bother to change out of her clothes or even to remove her make up, which to Rachel on any other day would have been blasphemous.

But today didn't matter. She just wished she could forget that stupid letter.

A/N: Thanks for reading. I promise the next chapter will be longer and will be updated within the next few days! Please review with your thoughts :-)