Posted on FFNET (under the pen name Slithery) and on AO3 (under the pen name SirHiss).
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Consider this disclaimer to cover the entire fic.
Author's Note: To get the typical questions out of the way: no, this isn't a fem!Harry story, nor will Mallory be the romantic interest of Harry Potter or any of the main characters. Mallory is not meant to fill the role of Harry Potter, nor does she play any real role in the main plot of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. We already know what happens, and who did it. There are no great mysteries to uncover or surprises to be found there.
Edited by Sage and Vi.
Prologue: Secret Agent Spy
November 22, 1982
One early November evening in a small village on the edge of Dartmoor stood an old wizened man in bright purple robes and pointy hat. He was waiting patiently, nose twitching at the damp smell rising from the tall, uncut grass.
With a loud pop, another strange man appeared next to him. A small bundle, roughly the size and shape of a baby, rested in the crook of the man's arm.
"Albus."
"Severus." Albus replied.
"We'll be leaving it here then, with the muggles?" Severus scowled.
"It's the best we can do." Albus' eyes fixed on the cottage: brick and mortar, with its bright, unnatural muggle lights. Next to the cottage, some metal muggle contraption stood sentinel and silent.
Severus leaned in closer, hissing, "this is a foolish idea, I'd dare say even reckless. If they discover what we've done—"
"—we'll make sure that doesn't happen." interrupted Albus.
The old wizard then took the child from Severus's arms and walked to the front door of the small cottage, where two unsuspecting muggles lived.
The muggles were vetted in advance, both of them. Kind people who couldn't have a child of their own, and who desperately wanted one. It was the perfect solution to their problem.
"And if the child discovers the truth, what then?" Severus asked.
This time, the old wizard didn't answer his question.
March 21, 1992
Ten Years Later
Two bikes skidded to a halt in front of the low stone wall separating the dirt road from the Turner's property. Mallory Hopkins and Danny Pearce weren't supposed to be here. But cutting across the field was the fastest way into the village, and they were running late for dinner.
On this day, Mallory turned eleven years old. Her birthday party had ended earlier that afternoon, and after she'd eaten a rather large portion of her birthday cake, she and Danny had raced out of the house and onto their bikes. The whole ride out was spent debating on their adventure for the day — make-believe jungle explorers or Jedi? Indiana Jones or Doctor Who? When they couldn't come to an agreement on who got to be Luke, they compromised on completing their clubhouse, which was to be the pinnacle of their childhood ambitions: a secret place no grownup could enter, serving as a home to all their schemes and treasures. Once in agreement, they spent the rest of the ride cursing out old man Rogers down by the mill, who had the gall to cheat them out of good wooden boards, last time they'd traded with him for wood for the clubhouse. Past the main road and over two hills, they rode their bikes all the way to their favorite spot down by the banks of the river. Once they got there, they were so worn out from all the swearing and dire proclamations of revenge, that they spent the rest of the afternoon lazily basking in the sun by the riverbank.
But now it was getting dark and Danny said his mum would skin him alive if he was late, so they started making their way back. At first she felt annoyed, because it was her Birthday and that meant she ought to get whatever she wanted. But then Mallory glimpsed the dark clouds creeping across the moor and decided it was for the best.
They'd have to cut through Mr. Parker's farm, which meant scaling a wall and wading through rough unmanaged land that was unfit for play or farming, covered in scraggly plants that scratched up the legs something fierce.
The crumbling stone wall went up to their shoulders, and the two needed to climb over it. They got off their bikes and hefted them up over the wall, dropping them into the muck on the other side. Danny gave Mallory a boost, and they jumped down next to their bikes, landing in the mud with a splat.
It sucked at her boots as she moved to pick up her bike.
"Mum's going to kill me," the scrawny boy groaned.
She made a face. He was being dramatic, like always. The most Mrs. Pearce would do was holler at him. And from what Mallory understood, Danny's mum did that quite often. She didn't see how this time would be any different.
His mum didn't like mud, or the fact that he and Mallory went down to the river, which was dangerous. The parents in the village said once a child had fallen in the river and drowned. Mallory figured it was one of those stories adults made up to scare little kids.
And besides, Mallory wasn't afraid.
They plodded across the field, dodging brambles that caught on their shoes and bike tires. The wind was picking up, stirring the grass and rattling the whins. Twice they got her, leaving long scratches across her legs.
Dragging their bikes behind them, they squelched onto the main road. Danny nudged her shoulder and she glanced over to see the last two people she wanted to run into on her birthday.
The Turner twins.
The twins stopped in their tracks, eyes narrowed in disgust.
It wasn't her fault, not really. She hadn't meant to, it was just, strange things tended to happen around her when she got angry. And the last time that happened, Robbie Turner was dumping pencil shavings in her book bag.
She had wished hard for something bad to happen to him, because he was a giant knobhead and she knew she'd get splinters cleaning the stupid pencil shavings out of her bag. He had laughed at her while she shouted at him, drawing the attention of their entire class.
And then, suddenly, a clump of his hair fell from his head. It had hovered for a moment in front of his nose before falling to the floor. Robbie Turner frowned and stopped to run his hands through his hair, only for more and more clumps to be pulled away with every breath.
At the time, she'd laughed. He'd been shrieking and clutching at his scalp, only to watch as all his hair fell to the ground. But then she turned and saw her classmates' faces.
Now they were all avoiding her, not just Robbie Turner and his friends.
Danny stuck by her because he'd always known she could do things the other children couldn't do. He thought she was brilliant for it— like she was a real life superhero.
The Turner twins eyed Mallory and Danny for a moment, before turning around and walking back stiffly the way they came.
Danny snickered. "Bet they had fun explaining to their mum how Robbie's hair fell out."
She looked away. The sight of the twins just served to remind her that there was something very unnatural about Mallory Hopkins.
When she was little, she hadn't realized that she was doing anything extraordinary. Fairy tales and magic were in all the movies, and what she could do— turning lights on with a thought or animating toys just because she wished it— seemed like nothing special at all.
Mum and dad, however, were terrified of others finding out.
For a long time, their fear seemed excessive, and she couldn't understand why they wanted her to keep it a secret. But as she got older, she realized her parents were right. She'd read all the comics, X-Men and the like: when people found out someone had superpowers, they don't react positively. People called the constables. Then secret agents came to lock up the mutants and do horrible experiments on them.
She really really didn't want to be dissected, thank-you-very-much.
Not that any of her classmates would tell the adults, because no adult would ever believe them. But it still scared her, because she couldn't always control her temper or her powers. And what if it happened in front of an adult? What if the next Robbie Turner happens in front of a video camera?
Her parents would do everything they could to protect her, but they weren't gods.
Danny nudged her shoulder again. "None of that, not on your birthday." He swung one leg over his bike. "Come on, let's race back. I'll bet you a fiver I can get to the letterbox before you."
"No cheating!" Mallory hollered after him, but Danny was already off. She scrambled onto her bike, pedaling hard to catch up.
She rode on his tail, skidding around a corner and nearly crashing into the bins in front of their neighbour's yard. Her bike shuddered and jolted under her with every break in the uneven pavement.
The wind whipped her dark hair back as she kept low on the bike, trying to cut wind resistance. Danny Pearce was not beating her this time, not on her life.
A crack of thunder boomed as the approaching storm finally caught them.
She pulled up by Danny's side, legs pumping at the pedals furiously, as they rounded on the final turn. Danny slowed, but Mallory didn't, trusting her powers to keep her bike upright as she whipped around the corner full speed.
Except her powers failed.
The wheels slid out from under her and she didn't even have time to think before she hit the ground hard, tumbling across the street before skidding to a halt.
"Mallory!"
Danny pedaled back to where he'd seen her fall, but she was already picking herself up.
She held her hands up. "I'm okay."
Both knees were bloodied, though one was more scraped up than the other. Her shoulder would be sore, but that wasn't so bad.
"Dummy." He held out a hand and she took it, hauling her to her feet. They limped the last leg to Mallory's house, walking next to their bikes instead of riding.
No one mentioned who won the race. Danny knew her pride could suffer no further injuries this day.
The lights were on, and Mrs. Pearce from two doors down was waiting under the awning on the front step, arms folded. Mallory couldn't see through the rain, but she bet her face was cross.
She waved, just to make Mrs. Pearce feel obligated to wave back. Mrs. Pearce always made a funny face when Mallory tried being friendly, like she'd swallowed a lemon.
Mallory dropped her bike on the front lawn and said goodbye to Danny. She stomped up the steps and into her house, knees stinging with every step.
"Mum, Dad, I'm home."
There was a low murmur of conversation coming from the living room, which Mallory ignored in favor of walking down the narrow hall towards the kitchen. She was intent on patching herself up before mum saw her.
"Mallory, in here!" mum called, and Mallory groaned. She doubled back, past the creaky staircase and into the warmly-lit living room. Both her parents were sitting on the chesterfield.
Across from them sat the strangest woman Mallory Hopkins had ever seen. She was perched on the seat across from her parents, looking out of place in their ordinary house with her witchy-looking black robes and pointed hat. She was like something out of a storybook.
"Oh lord, Mallory, what's happened to you?" Mum got up, rushing over to fuss over Mallory's scraped knees, incidentally blocking Mallory's view of the stranger.
"I fell off my bike. And it was raining."
"Your knees!" Mum's voice did that thing it did when she was stressed and it went all high pitched. "What did you do to your knees?"
"I said I fell, didn't I?"
"Don't sass your mother," said Dad.
"And the mud— Look at it! Don't tell me you went down to that horrid river again."
"I won't, then." She tried batting her mum away so she could look at the stranger on their couch.
"Mallory, don't drip on the carpet," said her dad, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"S'not like I can help it."
"I said don't sass."
"I'm not sassing, and anyway who's she?"
Mum moved aside and Mallory gave the stranger a little wave.
"Hello, Miss Hop—," the strange woman froze with her tea cup halfway to the table. She stared at Mallory for a good long moment before she cleared her throat.
"Miss Hopkins. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Hello." Mallory stood outside the living room, dripping on the carpet. Her shirt was sticking to her skin and there was dirt on her arms and legs from the fall. That was in addition to the bloody scrapes on her knees.
She carried with her the smell of the damp outdoors and muck from the river. Which was probably why the woman was staring at her, still staring at her. But a part of her feared that the real reason was something more sinister.
She made Robbie Turner's hair fall out, and now there was a strange woman sitting in their living room. The woman didn't look like how Mallory imagined secret agents would look, but then secret agents wouldn't want to look like secret agents. It would make keeping it a secret rather difficult.
The stranger cleared her throat again, and put her cup of tea down. "I am Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. I'm here as a representative of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As I was just telling your parents, you are invited to attend our school next September."
Witchcraft and Wizardry?
Mallory edged into the room, trying to be casual, like she wasn't in the room with a lunatic or secret agent.
"Mum?" Her voice wavered, just a bit, at the end. "What's going on?"
"Ask daddy, love. I'm getting the first aid kit. I don't want those cuts getting infected." Mum walked off, seemingly unconcerned about the secret agent or crazy lady in their living room.
"Dad?" She inched closer to him.
"Just watch the rug."
"Got it. What's going on?"
"Like I said," spoke McGonagall, "Hogwarts is a school for gifted children. I believe there were several occasions where you've done things that other children cannot?"
"Um. No. Definitely not. I'm ordinary. Very ordinary."
"Mallory, don't lie to the nice professor. Tell her about that time you made Nibbles float." He turned to the secret-agent-pretending-to-be-a-professor, "I couldn't believe my eyes, it was a miracle."
Her blood turned to ice.
She didn't understand. Mum and dad, who'd made her promise a thousand times to never tell anyone, not even Danny, told a stranger about her powers.
"Not helping, dad. And it was probably just your imagination," she was now edging away, back towards the kitchen where mum was under the cabinets digging out the first aid kit. She could run out the back door with a big enough distraction. And she knew Danny would let her hide under his bed for the night. But then, maybe that's exactly what a secret agent would expect her to do.
Mallory gave the Deputy Headmistress a winning smile. "You know dad, with his active imagination."
It sounded like the thing one ought to say when convincing someone that superpowers weren't real.
"What's gotten into you?" said her dad, frowning.
Mallory didn't know how long the secret agent had been here with her parents, nor why her dad let the cat out of the bag. But if mum and dad had taken leave of their senses—
"She's a secret agent! Dad, run!" With that Mallory took off, only to collide with her mum in the doorway.
"Mallory!" Mum gasped. She grabbed Mallory by the arms, preventing her from scrambling to freedom.
"Let go! She's a super secret agent and she's going to take me away and then you'll never see me again because they'll do 'speriments!"
"Miss Hopkins! I do not know what a secret agent is—" Professor McGonagall said secret agent the same way some people said pustules and taxes. "—but I am certainly not here to take you away from your parents. I am a teacher of Transfiguration, and if you'd just sit down I'd show you."
"Don't listen to her!"
"Oh for heaven's sake!" said the secret agent, and she whipped out a slender wooden stick and aimed it at their coffee table.
And then the table turned into a great big dog.
Mallory gaped, shrugged off her mum's now-lax grip, and walked onto the carpet to get a closer look.
"Mallory!" dad hissed. "You're dripping on the carpet."
She ignored him. It was a real dog, with soft golden fur, and a shiny wet nose. It even woofed when she poked it.
"Wicked. How'd you do that?"
"That is what you'll be learning at Hogwarts."
"Mallory. The carpet."
"Dad!" She said in her best dad-you're-being-embarrassing tone.
"Tony, no one cares about the bloody carpet," said mum.
"I do. It's my mother's and it's—"
Professor McGonagall flicked her wand again and Mallory was dry. Two more flicks and all the mud was gone and her cuts were healed.
She stared at the Professor, who was probably not a super secret agent or a lunatic, and wondered if she could go to their school early. Like, right now.
Mum raised her eyebrows. "I guess I got the first aid kit out for nothing, then."
"Mum."
"Well, now that we have that over with, there's a lot to go over and some forms to fill out. Though without anymore interruptions," the professor paused to give Mallory a look. "This should be done in no more than an hour."
This was, Mallory thought, possibly the best birthday ever.