Just Another Story: The Prologue

It wasn't that she didn't love her family. That was far from it. Her parents had a specific set of beliefs and traditions; a set of beliefs and traditions that even as a young child she hadn't quite understood. But she knew that questioning her parents, especially her mother, hardly ever ended well so she left them alone. It wasn't until she was sent off to Hogwarts that her questions would arise again.

Unlike a normal school Hogwarts was a special case, though not in a way you would normally expect. It was for people with a gift, a gift that not many others had: magic. The kind of magic where you wave a wand, say a funny-sounding word or two and something wondrous happens. It wasn't the kind of school that taught you about toads and snails and puppy dog tails. It taught you how to be a successful witch or wizard, whichever the case may be. It taught its students about life, about living together and working together towards a common goal. But for her, it taught her the most important thing. Something that would impact her life more than anything else the school taught her: acceptance.

Her adventure started not on the train ride there, but instead with her trip to Diagon Alley. She had been there before, of course. Her father had often taken her to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream and she had been with her mother to get various odds and ends. But they day she went for her school supplies somehow made the familiar trip different. Almost as if she was seeing it all for the first time.

The moment she stepped into Ollivander's wand shop she couldn't help but look around in amazement. There were so many wands, all waiting for the right witch or wizard to find them. The shop was covered with years upon years of dust, and when she saw the owner she found him to be looking just as old as his shop did. With that age came a sense of knowledge beyond measure.

"Ah, good to see you again, Mrs. Domna," the old man greeted her mother, and she had to wonder when her mother was last in to see this man. "What can I do for you today?"

Her mother stepped forward, with a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "We're here for my daughter's first wand," she said with pride. They may have always known that their daughter possessed magic, but there was no finer moment for a family such as theirs as the moment when their child received their first wand; the confirmation that blood will win out in the end.

"Yes, yes, come on then, child. Hold out your wand arm please," he said as he flicked his want at a length of measuring tape before heading back into the shelves upon shelves of wands. "Your mother was chosen by one made of oak; nice, strong and stable – most suitable for someone from a house so noble. Twelve inches, if I'm not mistaken, which a dragon heartstring core – brilliant for Defense against the Dark Arts work.

"Your father, on the other hand," he continued, "Though his wand was also made from oak, its core was a phoenix father, eleven inches. Perfect for charms work."

The old man came back, seeing that the tape measure had done its work. He opened the box in his hands and offered it to her, "Hawthorn, ten and a half inches with a unicorn tail center. Give it a go."

The moment she had the wand in her hands he snatched it back up again. "Oh no," he said, "No indeed. Not quite the wand we're looking for." He went back to his shelves though was back quickly. "Let's see: Holly, thirteen inches, with a phoenix feather core."

This one he too, snatched away before she could give it a wave. They went through one wand after another. Oak, willow, alder, poplar, apple, and cherry… Then finally, he came back with a box that was slightly dustier than the others he had brought forward. "It's been a while," he said, "since this one jumped out at me. Rowan, ten inches long with a dragon heartstring core – and let me tell you, this dragon, however old, was not a pleasant fellow." He handed the young girl the wand and stepped back to see the outcome.

This one already felt different from the others. The wood beneath her fingers didn't feel the same, though polished just as well as any of the others had been. It was like it fit her hand, better than any glove she had ever worn. It was warm to the touch and gave her fingers a tingling feeling. Giving it a wave, the tip gave off a warm, pink coloured glow much to her horror. Mr. Ollivander on the other hand seemed to think this was just dandy.

"Perfect," he exclaimed. "It's as I've always said: the wand chooses the witch." He took the wand from her hand and placed it back in the box. "I'll wrap this up for you."

Her mother had spent seven galleons on the wand that was now hers. She wasn't one hundred percent sure how the man calculated the value of his wands, but at the moment she didn't care. The day she received her Hogwarts letter had officially made her a witch. Today, the day she received her first wand, was the first step towards becoming a great one.

"Cicada Elizabeth, aren't you ready to leave yet," her mother demanded from the bottom of the staircase. She had been of short temper since getting back from Diagon Alley. She hadn't been impressed with the scare she had taken from her daughter's overly long wand-choosing trip. "You're going to miss the train at this rate and I am not owling the Headmaster so you can get special treatment, do you hear me?"

Beth, as she preferred to be called, was in her room making sure she hadn't missed packing anything into her trunk. The last thing she wanted was to have to owl home for a textbook or something. Her mother would have a fit, much worse than the one she was having now.

"We have plenty of time, Hypatia," her father, Caius, could be heard comforting his wife. He was rather laid back in comparison, but that did not mean he didn't want the ideals that his wife strived for. All he really wanted from life was a successful business and family life. For the most part he had it. Now they only needed to make sure that their daughter had a successful school life.

This seemed to be as good of a time as any to let them know she was ready. Closing her trunk, she told the house-elf to make sure it was in the car before she headed down stairs. "Ready when you are, Mum."

The whole way to the train station her mother informed her of the type of behavior that was to be expected of her. There was no way she was going to allow any daughter of hers to act like some sort of delinquent. It was bad enough they had to pretend to be Muggles on the way to train station. Just because she was going to be away at school did not mean that she was not expected to behave as a lady ought to.

Now at the station and through the barrier between platforms nine and ten, the Domna family found themselves at platform nine and three quarters. The first thing Beth saw was not the crowds of people, the many families saying goodbye to each other, but rather the big red engine that would be taking her to her first school: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The place she had been dreaming of for as long as she could remember.

"And for heaven's sake child, don't slack off like you're prone to do while at home," Beth had practically tuned her mother out. She had heard this speech so often that she could pretty much recite the whole thing from memory. "We expect good grades from you. Remember: A Domna is anything but second best."

"I've got to run back to the office," her father announced after hauling her trunk up onto the train. Beth immediately turned away from her mother to hug her father. This was a rare occasion for him to come out to see her off. He was always so busy with work. He took his daughter by the shoulders, pulling out of her embrace. "Have a good time at school, and mind your mother. Remember to write her often, she worries about you."

"I do not worry," her mother cut in. "She's a good girl. She will do as she's told." There was no room for argument.

Her father left, telling her mother that he would have someone pick up the car for her before apperating away. Beth stepped onto the train, saying goodbye to her mother and promising to write just as her father had told her to do. Turning her back, the still ten year old left to find a compartment. She was hoping to find an empty one, since she didn't know many others her age and would rather not barge in on one that was half-full.

Then she met him. James Potter. She had been hoping to avoid people that her parents wouldn't approve of her hanging out with. His parents weren't the opposite, per se. If anything her grandmother told her was true, her family had dealings with his in the past. It may have been centuries ago, but surely it was safe enough to sit in the same compartment as him.

Wrong. Dead wrong as a matter of fact. As who else would enter the compartment but the eldest son of Walburga Black, her mother's oldest friend. She had met Sirius Black a number of times in her life and she wasn't at all positive that those experiences had been purely pleasant. The encounters usually ended up with one or both of them in trouble with their parents which really, if you were to think about it, wasn't the best of places to be.

"Aren't you afraid Mummy will be terribly disappointed if you're caught in present company," he asked her once James had made the introductions and it had been made apparent that Sirius and Beth already knew each other.

She only rolled her eyes at the dark-haired boy and chose to ignore him and keep talking to James. "So, which house do you think you'll be sorted into," she asked. "I don't know which one I want, really."

James Potter, who knew of her family if not her herself, was relatively surprised to hear this but continued on anyway. "I'm bound to get Gryffindor," he replied with pride. "Both my parents were Gryffindors, so I'm bound to be a sure fit."

"Just because your parents were doesn't mean you have to be," was Sirius' response before pulling out a deck of cards, "Anyone for a game of Exploding Snap?"

As the train ride went on they were joined by other students, but only two stayed and were incorporated into their game. One was her cousin, Peter Pettigrew, and the other was a boy who introduced himself as Remus Lupin. It was Peter who was in the lead, followed rather closely by Sirius, when they were forced to stop the game so that the boys could put on their uniforms. Beth only had to don her robes as her uniform was the only Muggle-like clothing she owned.

When the train came to a halt, they were immediately called forward by an overly large man with scruffy hair and an even scruffier beard. He told them not to worry about their luggage, as it would be in their rooms for them once they were sorted. How they went about doing this Beth couldn't begin to fathom. After all, C.D. weren't exactly uncommon initials.

Once the man, who introduced himself as Hagrid, was sure they had all of the first years together he led them down a path. She wasn't entirely sure why they had to walk while the other students were taken up to the school in horseless carriages, but she was sure there was a reason.

"You'll get your first sight of Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid told the group of first years. Turning the corner the man's word's proved to be true. In front of them was a black lake and across from that, reflected in the smooth pool, stood Hogwarts castle. "No more than four to a boat!" the man called out to them, bringing their attention back to where they stood.

The four boys immediately moved to get into a boat of their own. While she could admit it stung, in hindsight Beth would be thankful for it. No one else was as soaked as they were once they reached their destination. Hagrid took one look at them and immediately turned to the rest of the first years. "We got everyone, right," he asked to make sure. Hearing no one proclaim otherwise, he took one last worried look at the boys before clapping his hands together, "Right then, this way!"

He led the group up a set of stairs that ended at a set of rather heavy looking double doors. He knocked three times then waited, turning with a smile that could hardly be seen through his unruly beard. The wait was not a long one, as not a moment later the doors opened to a tall, black-haired witch in beautiful emerald green robes. Though the woman in front of them looked to be rather young, she looked to be one of those teachers that you did not want to cross. Beth made a mental note of that as the two adults began to talk.

"The first years, Professor McGonagall," the man said. "All present and accounted for, just like you asked."

"Thank you, Hagrid," she replied. Another mental note was made about names. "I will take them from here."

The woman stepped aside and the first years filed in. She led them down corridors that looked like they were big enough to fit the summer cottage mother rather hated, though father refused to get rid of. The stone walls were lit by torches which caste shadows on the flagstone floor. The moment she laid eyes on the marble staircase, Beth knew her mother had the one at home modeled after this one. They were led past a doorway on their right, behind which could be heard hundreds of voices. It was more than likely the rest of the student body, but they clearly weren't meant to join them yet. They were lead instead into a small chamber off the side of the hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall started, gathering everyone's attention away from the moving portraits. "The start-of-term feast is about to begin, but before you join your peers you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important moment for the school, as while you are here your house will be something like your family. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend your free time in your house common-room.

"There are four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each house has a long and noble history, each with its own merits. While you are here, your triumphs will award you house points. But any rule breaking will result in house points being taken away. At the end of the year, the house points are calculated and the house with the most points is awarded the house cup. I hope that each of you will be a credit to your houses." Something in her tone when she spoke the last sentence sounded a little like a warning.

"The Sorting ceremony will take place momentarily in front of the rest of the school. I shall return when we are ready for you. I suggest that you take this time to smarten yourselves up." She eyed a few students in particular as she made her suggestion before turning to leave the chamber.

All around her students began to chatter about what was about to happen, especially those first years who were unfamiliar with Hogwarts' history. She rolled her eyes at them: what did the Sorting ceremony entail? What did they have to do in front of the school? All of them hoped that they didn't screw up. No one wanted to make a fool out of themselves.

Beth distracted herself from the talk around her by checking to make sure her knee-high socks weren't falling down and that her shoes were on properly. They all had one thing right at least, it wouldn't do to fall down in front of the entire school. Her mother would be more embarrassed for her.

That done she looked occupied her mind with the portraits situated around the room. There were scenes from different countries, some containing animals she had never seen before while others contained witches and wizards she had read about in her family's library. Some were dressed in the most outlandish robes, and she couldn't help but wonder what their stories were.

It was McGonagall's voice that brought her out of her thoughts. "They are ready for you now," she announced. "Form a line, two-by-two, and follow me."

They were led back through the hall, though this time they were brought through the doorway of the Great Hall. In all her dreams Beth had never imagined a place so beautiful. The room was light by thousands of candles which floated above each of the four tables; their lights reflecting off the golden plates and cups sat in front of each of the students. Looking up at the candles, she noticed that the ceiling reflected the sky outside.

"Beautiful, isn't it," a red-head girl behind her whispered, seemingly to no one. Beth couldn't help but nod in agreement.

Their attention was brought back to what was in front of them when McGonagall stopped them in front of a rather old and tattered hat on top of a three-legged stool. The hall went silent then, every eye now fixed upon that single hat. What were they expecting the hat to do? Beth knew about the hat and its history with Hogwarts, thanks to her grandmother's love of history but no one had mentioned anything else the hat might do.

She was startled when the hat twitched and the seam along the brim opened up and it began to sing. It told about Hogwarts' beginnings, the makings and the qualities of the four houses. Hearing the hat's words, Beth had to wonder what the big deal was about being sorted into a particular house. They all seemed alright to her.

When the hat finished its song the hall burst into applause and did not stop until McGonagall cleared her throat and sent a glare out into the crowd. Once everyone had quiet down, she stepped forward with a long roll of parchment in hand.

"When I call your name," she stated clearly, "You will put the hat on your head and it will sort you into your houses." She glanced down at the scroll and called out the first name. "Abrams, Jacob."

A dark skinned boy stepped out of line. He put the hat on his head, that hat falling down past his eyes, and sat down on the stool. There was a moment's pause and then –

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

So it continued in alphabetical order and Beth let her mind wander. Based on the number of students waiting to be sorted, it would be a while until they reached her name. She didn't pay attention to the sorting until a familiar name popped up and no applause followed after it.

"What..?" She watched as Sirius Black blinked in shock as he headed over to the Gryffindor table. Everyone who knew the boy knew that he was different from the rest of his family. She knew how he felt though. His mother was going to kill him for being the only Black in the history of ever to be sorted into a house other than Slytherin.

"Domna, Cicada."

Beth cringed as her fist name was called. She would have to break her teachers of that habit, as she had to do with her tutors before them. She wasn't looking forward to that task. Despite that she stepped forward with her head held high. She didn't know what to expect exactly when she put the hat on her head and hopped up on the stool. She jumped slightly when she heard a voice with no source talking to her before she realized it was actually they hat.

"Not the sharpest tool in the shed, I see," it said. "No, quick wit is not your forte, so I'm afraid Ravenclaw will not be your destination. Hum, let's see…" The hat continued to mumble to itself for a few minutes before it called out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

She knew that this would not be as shocking as Sirius Black's sorting into Gryffindor. Many knew who her father was, and as such knew that he cared for little other than his business' well being and his family's well-being. Her mother on the other hand, was more likely to react in a much more subtle way when showing her displeasure than Sirius' own.

"Fancy meeting you here," Sirius said with a grin as she sat down beside him.

The petite girl shrugged, "Thought I'd try something new."