A/N: Current Winner of my Poll!
Vote:
Harry Potter SI OC: Girl reborn into OC Dark Pureblood Family, is in Fred & George's year, a Hufflepuff, & decides to make Harry a Dark Lord through the Power of Friendship
Thanks for Voting!
(BTW, this is actually an Idea I had for my SI OC Mariette in A Sister's Prerogative, so, you know, awesome ^-^)
Warnings: AU, Rebirth, SI OC, Hufflepuff!OC, Is-it-overpowered-if-its-actually-logic-and-not-magic?, OOC, Lots and lots of cursing, multi-chaptered-fic-with-sporadic-updates, Eventual-Dark Lord!Harry, Character Bashing (Many and few), Debatable Morals, Experimentation, Emotional Manipulation & Outright Manipulation of a Minor (Both Knowing and Not)
Unsuspected
Prologue
I had died.
Again.
Seriously, what the fuck?
Sighing tiredly (only, not really, because hello, I don't have a fucking body), I sort of floated over the bloodstained bit of concrete that was the latest sight of my most recent death.
…
Seriously, why the fuck couldn't I just die of, like, old age or something? Surrounded by loved ones who were trying to smile instead of full-on panic?
Ugh, whatever. I just wished that my frequent reincarnation would just fucking start already.
I am so done with being dead.
Everything began to get misty, and then, my vision was obscured with white light, before being consumed by darkness.
About fucking time.
~(Line Break)~
Like it usually is, the first few months of my new life are blurry and muddled, with vague recollections of being cared for and handled. Usually, there's some loving coos or mutters, but, this time, there wasn't, which honestly didn't bode well for me. My clearest memory is of a little green creature with tennis-ball sized blue eyes murmuring to me as it fed me a bottle of milk that had appeared out of no where, and calling me 'Little Mistress'.
…
If that was a fucking House Elf, I will lose my shit, I kid you not. There will be screaming and squealing and fist pumping like an idiot, all mental, I assure you, since I can't even lift my own fucking head at the moment, but it will happen, and it will be glorious.
Until I can find out, however, it looks like I'm stuck in the in-between time for a while longer.
Joy.
~(Line Break)~
It was a House Elf.
I may have scared poor Lonny half to death with the apparent 'fit' I gave in response, but it was so. Fucking. Worth it.
Mother fucking House Elf.
Know what that means?
I'm in mother fucking Harry Potter
Fuck yeah, I'm so gonna fuck things up. I am going to go to Hufflepuff (because that House gets so much shit despite being kickass), and I am going to turn Harry Potter into a Dark Lord because I fucking can, and I will manipulate the fuck out of everyone and I will fucking prove that Hufflepuff is kick ass, and no one will even fucking suspect me because, guess what?!
No One Ever Suspects A Hufflepuff.
Mwahahahahaha…
In other news, I found out my newest name.
It's Annis.
Annis Sanguine Blagden, of the Ancient House of Blagden. Pureblooded Heiress to the Dark Family which, according to Lonny, had managed to remain rather Neutral during the war thus far, despite supporting the Dark, but…
Guys.
My fucking parents literally fucking named me Pure Blood of the Dark Valley. What the fucking hell.
And, to make things worse, they fucking left me to be raised by a damn House Elf because they apparently don't have time for a child.
Why the fuck did you have one then, you motherfucking idiots?!
Ugh, rude fuckers.
At least Lonny doesn't mind taking care of me. I think, when I get bigger, I'll keep her. She's pretty easy6 to get along with, and very chill, compared to my slightly-blurry distant memories of Dobby and the Hogwarts Elves. She's very Go With The Flow-WAIT NO LITTLE MISTRESS DON'TS BE EATINGS THAT.
Mwahahahahaha…
Now, if only I can convince her that she should hold open a book for me so I can get to preparing myself for the Wizarding World…
Goals.
~(Line Break)~
"Little Mistress is be doing so good!" Lonny squeaked, utterly thrilled as I slowly shuffled from the low table towards the beaming House Elf, and I couldn't help but grin when I managed to make it, wobbling as I sat down directly in front of my green-skinned caretaker. I was up to her chin, now, and growing more every day since I turned two (My birthday is January 13th, 1978. It was a Friday. Seriously. No, I'm being completely serious. I was born on Friday the Thirteenth to a Dark Family. Fucking brilliant.).
Soon, I'd be able to fucking reach the books on the shelf, instead of just watching Lonny move them about while she dusted.
Life is, as a whole, pretty damn okay…
Except the frilly dresses.
Those can burn in Hell or whatever for all eternity.
They itch.
Ugh, why couldn't I be reborn as a guy? Then all I'd have to worry about was inappropriate boners and leaving the seat up, ugh.
The struggle is real, I tell you.
Just as I wrapped my pudgy arms around my lovely caretakers pale green body, there was a startling Pop in the corner of the room, and another House Elf appeared. This one was male, and dressed in a tawny-colored pillow case with the coat of arms for the Nott Family (Lonny and I had spent two weeks going over the various Houses, their Coats, their Heads, and the Blagden House Allies and Feuds. Surprisingly, my Family had a Blood Feud with the Greengrasses because in 1719 a member of their House cheated on a member of my Family despite having a magically binding Marriage Contract in place. The girl in question had lost her magic, and the Greengrasses blamed us, but we were insulted that their daughter would dishonor our Contract, and thus a Blood Feud was installed. Ugh, headaches…).
He had dark golden brown eyes, and his nose was surprisingly short and round. This was Cobber, the Nott Family Shoe-Elf (His job was to make sure all shoes, boots, slippers, and heels were in their proper places, cleaned, and smelling fresh as a daisy apparently). He had been courting Lonny for the last six months, and I approved of him.
Now, however, he was twisting his large ears anxiously, eyes huge and wet with uncertainly relieved tears.
"What is beings wrong, Cobber?" Lonny asked, curling her bony arms around me protectively as we stared at him.
"The Darkses Lord," Cobber whispered franticly, bouncing on his toes anxiously, staring with huge eyes as tears began to trail down his face. "He is… He is being beaten!" Lonny gasped, her mouth falling open and bright blue eyes huge as she stared at her courter. "He is beings gone! Oh, Lonnys!" He wailed, bursting into relieved tears and darting over to throw his arms around my House Elf and myself, hugging us close as Lonny began to weep in relief as well and, bizarrely, I felt like I was between my mother and father, and I closed my eyes and hugged Cobber tightly.
So, Voldemort is gone, for now, and Harry is being placed on the Dursley's doorstep, while Sirius is hunting down Wormtail. And, soon, Neville's parents are going to be tortured into insanity and the world will remember that, just because the Dark Lord is vanquished, doesn't mean everything is perfect.
So, eight years and counting before my grand plan can start.
I can't wait for Hogwarts!
~(Line Break)~
Okay, so, you remember how my parents never even came to see me? Well, I'm five-years-old now, and I've finally met my Dad!
…
He's a fucking asshat.
His name is literally Dorian Gray Blagden. He has a fucking portrait of himself in the fucking hallway that he doesn't like. It snarks at him from behind the dark gray curtains he put up in front of it, and it is funny as shit, I'm telling you. Seriously, you have not lived until you've heard a portrait/curtain telling someone that they are a "son of a grotty munter" and that his face looked like "a scrubber took a seat on it, and left a stain behind".
I like the portrait better than the actual man.
Dorian Blagden was six feet tall, and had given me his red-brown hair, his sharp cheekbones, and even his slightly-too-big ears. Aside from that, however, I must take after my mother, because he had a sharp nose, a square jaw, and narrowed brown eyes under glowering brows, while I had a button nose, soft jaw, and large greenish-gray eyes under thin, high brows. Our looks were apparently the only thing we shared, however, because I could already tell that I would never get along with this man.
"Stand up straight," my 'Father' snapped, glaring at me as he led me down a staircase. I refrained from grimacing, and, instead, pulled on every etiquette lesson I'd learned throughout my lives and what Lonny had taught me in these past five years. Hopefully, it would be enough, because Daddy Dearest had decided that the best way to welcome me to the family, officially, was to toss me to the wolves.
There was a Birthday Ball going on at the Malfoy's, for fucks sake, to celebrate their Heirs third birthday (the idea of chibi!Draco was too fucking cute, honestly, even if his whiney older self did irritate my soul. Still cute, but irritating.) and I had been invited along with my Father and Mother. So, Lonny had dressed me up in a neat dress that was made up of the dark purple and burnt orange that was the Blagden Family Colors (Awesome and horrible at the same time), had done my shoulder-length curls up into an elegant pair of little French-braided pigtails, and had made sure I remembered the proper way to greet and deal with others.
"Come on, then," 'Father" ordered, impatiently setting a large hand on my shoulder and pushed me through a set of doors at the bottom of the staircase. I barely got a glance around the room (A surprisingly chic parlor, with dark purple walls and bronze statues of a Wolf, the Blagden Family Symbol because it the First Blagden Head was a Wolf Animagus who married a Pureblood Werewolf who had passed down the amazing Immune System and natural Occlumency Walls every Blagden had.), before, suddenly, my eyes landed on the woman standing before the fireplace, her cold green-grey eyes locked on me in sharp disapproval.
This must be my mother, Lady Mardella Patrice Blagden, Formerly of the Noble House of Kenley.
She was pretty, in a way. I'd gotten my slight curls from her, and her nose, eyes, eyebrows, and forehead, but my mouth way larger and fuller, and she had brown hair that was just that boring brown. He hands were creepy, too. They were tiny! Like, ten-year-old tiny! Did she mess up a potion and end up with permanently tiny hands or something?! She looked like she wouldn't be able to hold a large apple correctly!
Ew!
…
Anyways, getting off topic.
She was about five-foot-eight, her slightly-curly hair brushing her bare shoulders. The dress she wore was a dark plum purple, which lightened slowly until you reached the bottom, where it ended as dark lavender. Her nails were painted the burnt orange, and a thin golden necklace encircled her neck, were a single wolf fang hung delicately.
"Ready to leave?" She asked, her voice a cold, smooth alto, and I stood stiffly in front of her as Dorian quickly moved to gather some neon-green Floo Powder from the brass container on the mantle, picking up a relatively small present that was beside it, wrapped in blue and silver striped wrapping paper with a navy-blue bow on top.
"Let's be on our way, then," Dorian declared, stepping into the fire place and throwing down his pinch of green powder with a snap of "Malfoy Manor!" In a roaring flash of neon green flames, he disappeared.
…
I hope he gets spit out in Antarctica.
Douche.
"Come along, Annis," Mardella ordered coolly; I obediently stepped forward and bit back a shudder as her gross, tiny hands landed on my shoulder and held tightly as she guided me into the fire place. "Keep your elbows tucked in, Annis," she sniped; I shifted closer to her and folded my hands demurely in front of me, and let my eyes fall half-shut as my 'Mother' threw down her pinch of powder (Ha! That sounds like some Wizarding thing).
"Malfoy Manor," She called calmly; suddenly, in a bright, blinding flash of bright green fire, we were spinning away.
…
Jesus Christ, no wonder Harry always went flying whenever he took the Floo! Ugh, it's so disorienting! All the rapid spinning and flashes of visions from other fire places into other rooms. It made me think of the book Ravirn series, by Kelly McCullough. In one of the books (I can't quite remember if it was the first or second), they describe what it's like to travel through a Fairy Ring, and that's pretty much exactly what this felt like, only with more spinning and disorientation.
Abruptly, the world jerked to a stop, and I automatically stepped forward when Mardella did, her child-hand still tight on my shoulder. As a result, I did not go stumbling out, though I seriously wanted to puke. Ugh, I hated the Floo.
"Mardella, so good to see you," a woman's voice greeted us in a soothing murmur, and I looked up to see none other than Narcissa Malfoy in all her white-blond beauty. She was dressed to impress with cyan blue robes of the highest quality I'd yet to see, with silver-chained jewelry.
"Narcissa, it has been too long," Mardella greeted back with such a patently fake smile that I barely kept my eye from twitching. The two women hugged, kissing one another on the cheek with all the frigid coldness of frost on an ice cube, and I couldn't help but admire it because, lets face it, these two probably hated each other yet they could smile with such cold politeness.
I bet the subtle insult flinging is glorious.
"Allow me to introduce my daughter, Annis," Mardella said, and gave me a 'come hither' hand movement.
…
Ugh, her hands creep me out, they are so disproportional its ew.
"Annis, this is Lady Narcissa Malfoy," my 'Mother' told me clearly as she rested one of her creepy little hands on my shoulder. I smiled sweetly up at the pretty Lady and dipped into a curtsey, just like Lonny had taught me.
"It's nice to meet you, Lady Malfoy," I told her, carefully pitching my voice to be sweet and warm but not overly familiar (Lonny was, honestly, the best Mother I could have asked for in this Universe, swear to God… Merlin… Everyone.). The smile she gave me was significantly warmer than the one she shared with Mardella.
"It's very nice to meet you, Annis," she replied softly, nodding, and I smiled easily up at her, ignoring the (tiny) hand on my shoulder as it tensed and tightened oh-so-slightly. "Draco, my son, and the other children are this way, as are the other parents and guests," she added, glancing at Mardella. "Your husband is there as well." Mardella inclined her head with a poisonous smile, and we followed the Lady Malfoy through the doors and promptly separated when she pointed me towards on side of the room, where a large group of children were, and Mardella in another, when I could already see Dorian drowning himself in politics and brandy.
Douche.
Walking as straight and graceful as I could (I'm fucking five, okay? My legs are tiny and chubby and I felt ridiculous, but like hell was I going to give my loving parents a reason to punish Lonny.), I joined the group of 7 children hanging out near the far wall. Draco Malfoy was there in all his adorable, wide-eyed, chibi adorableness, with fluffy white-blond hair and huge silvery-gray eyes that stared at me curiously as he tugged at his blue-and-silver robes.
"Hello," I greeted him, ignoring the others momentarily, as was expected. "Thank you very much for inviting me to your Ball, I hope you are having a very good birthday thus far." Little Draco's cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk as he pouted at me.
"Donno you," he told me sulkily, and I bit back a coo, smiling and offering my hand.
"Annis Blagden," I told him; he took my hand and awkwardly kissed the air over it, mouth much too far from it to be considered polite but, well, he's three.
"Cha'med," he told me simply. "I'm Dwaco Malfoy."
…
Awwwwww, he can't say his 'R's yet! So cute~!
Draco gesture to the children around us, and started politely introducing everyone. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were adorable pudgy balls of cute, eating licorice wands and blinking dolefully across the room at the snack table. Blaise Zabini was already a heartbreaker, and flashed me a bright grin, showing off his missing front tooth (How did a three-year-old lose a tooth already?!). Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson sniffed at me, already the best of friends, apparently. The last one introduced was Marcus Flint, eight-years-old and already large, his teeth looking slightly too-big for his mouth and his shifty gray eyes bright and mischievous as he kissed the air over my hand.
"Looking forward to Hogwarts?" He asked me as Draco got distracted by a House Elf who brought them all cups of pumpkin juice that was spelled not to spill.
"Definitely," I replied, grinning up at Flint. "You'll have to write me and tell me how it is!" He laughed and grinned down at me.
"Maybe, maybe not," he told me impishly (how did the big brute from the original Harry Potter realm get such a bad lighting?! Thus far, he's made me think more of a mix between Ron and the Twins than what I remember him being like in the books… Maybe he just became so jaded later on he turned stupid or something? I don't even know.) "Depends." I smirk up at him and sip my juice (It tasted kinda gross, honestly, but well, I'm a guest so whatever)
"On what?" I asked; he lifted one shoulder, making a so-so motion with his hand.
"What's in it for me?" He asked easily; I hummed and took another sip of my drink.
"Well…" I drawled out quietly, leaning against the wall as music began to play and the adults started to meander about, some tipsy, most sober enough that, when they started dancing, they at least didn't hurt themselves or embarrass themselves. "That would depend on what you want, Mr. Flint." He snickered, and grinned, his large, crooked teeth surprisingly white as he looked at me.
"I wanna lotta things, Miss Blagden," he told me cheerfully. "I want a kitten, and an owl, and all the Chocolate Frog Cards. But, tell you what. I'll send you letters and a copy of my notes and homework and such from Hogwarts, if you'll send me notes on things I can't get at Hogwarts. I want notes on things I can't have there, with Dumbledork there. You get me that, I'll send you stuff I said I would. Deal?" He asked, offering his hand, and I considered the pros and cons.
If either of us was caught, especially with the really Dark things, we'd both get our asses tanned and maybe worse, depending on who caught us. However, the idea of getting a head start on Hogwarts and my hands on the actual assignments, now, that was most probably worth a lot of things.
"Won't be able to send you the really interesting stuff," I told him seriously. "Got a House Elf that goes through my letters, in case someone tries to get to my Mum and Dad through me, but the Darker Gray, I can work with. Still a deal?" I asked, gripping his hand; he considered it for a moment, before nodding sharply and grinning at me.
"Dance to seal it?" He asked; I wrinkled my nose. Ugh, dancing. His grin turned smug. "Afraid of dancing, short stuff?" He challenged; I narrowed my eyes.
"Afraid I'll show you up, bean stalk?" I challenged back, and he laughed and pulled me out onto the dance floor, where we proceeded to carefully ballroom dance, no doubt looking slightly ridiculous, my dark purple and burnt orange dress standing out with the Flint Family's standard gold and black. The fact that, after two songs, we tried to step on each others feet on purpose, left us being watched with both disapproval and amusement as we laughed (well, giggled, in my case).
A few hours later, after cake and presents and farewells, after my 'parents' showed up to take me home, I couldn't help but find myself pleased. I had not only gotten myself an "in" at Hogwarts in a couple years, but I'd managed to get all the boys to like me (Or, in Vince and Greg's case, remember who I was). Pansy was clinging to Daphne and, well, Blood Feud, so I didn't bother trying with them. As Mardella led me to my room, I couldn't help but yawn as I went over everything that had happened.
All in all, a good first attempt at networking, if I do say so myself!
"Don't stay up late," Mardella told me coolly as she opened my door for me, and I nodded.
"Goodnight, Mother," I told her simply, she just stared coolly, so I slid past her into my room.
"Oh, an, Annis?" She called as I started towards my bed, Lonny standing anxiously beside it, wringing her hands in her dark purple pillowcase-toga.
"Yes, Mother?" I asked, turning to look at her; there was something coldly satisfied in her green-grey gaze, and she gave me the same frigid smile she'd given Narcissa Malfoy when we had arrived and when we'd left, and I stiffened uncertainly.
"I'm glad you got along with your Betrothed," she told me with fake cheer, and my body froze, my eyes going wide as my brain went blank.
My what?!
"Goodnight, child," she told me, shutting the door firmly behind her and disappearing the the freaking Slenderman she freaking was. Who the fuck just drops a bomb like that and then walks away?! Evil people, that's who! My life is not a fucking cliffhanger!
Ugh!
And who did she mean was my Betrothed?! Marcus? Draco? Blaise, Vince, Greg?! WHO?!
"Little Mistress is be needing to get changed," Lonny told me softly, pulling me from my furious, confused thoughts, and I huffed at her as I obeyed.
Fuck it.
I was adaptable.
I'd make whatever happened my bitch and own it, because that's how my mother's always raised me (And yes, Lonny counted.).
…
Doesn't stop her from being a bitch, though.
~(Line Break)~
So, I guess Flint is my Betrothed.
If neither of us has married a significant other by the time I'm twenty-one, we'll be married. Part of me just wants to say "Fuck it" and platonic-marry someone because I remember how much of an asshole Flint turns into from the old Harry Potter Universe, but then I remember the mischievous, bold kid that made a deal with me at Draco Malfoy's Ball. The one who was surprisingly nice and playful and funny. And I kinda want to give him a chance, you know?
Then again, we're kids right now, and with my luck, Puberty is what turns him into an asshole, so I'll be nice and friendly and keep my distance romantically.
I've got a little less than a score until then, after all…
A score is twenty years, by the way. In case you were confused. Yeah, "four-score and seven years ago" means "87" years ago. Why he couldn't say it, I don't know, but Ol' Abe was President, so whatever.
Damn it, off topic again!
Damn brain.
I'm going to write a letter to Marcus, to see if he knew about this Betrothal before we talked…
Actually, first, I'm going to get Lonny to help me with the quills. For fucks sake, why?! Ugh, ink everywhere and parchment, by Muggle standards, is expensive and old-fashioned to a cute point.
Ugh.
…
I need to find a Dicta-Quill, so I can just tell it, and it'll write everything down, but no, Lonny says I shouldn't get used to them, and practice makes perfect, just because we're not allowed to use anything but the normal quills at Hogwarts (and sometimes the Check-Quill, which was basically a spellcheck Quill, but I seem to remember Ron Weasley having something similar in Half-Blood Prince…? I think it was that one. The one where he somehow turned in something with the name Rald Welsy or something? I don't know… Hey, it's been literally decades since I last read the books, even if I have huge chunks of them memorized, that doesn't mean anything now! Ugh, rude…)
…
Damn it, brain, no tangents!
Ugh.
I'm going to go write that letter, now.
~(Line Break)~
Marcus is actually very sweet.
At least, he can act very sweet.
In the last three years, we've written to one another often, and I've found that he has a sarcastic, playfulness to him that can be both incredibly endearing and also amusing. We've seen one another, maybe five times? Since Draco's party, at least (I think I've seen my 'parents' less than that, actually…) and we've exchanged notes on little things, like books we're allowed to read that aren't quite Light (and it's here that I found out that Marcus actually has Dyslexia and, when he needs to read, he puts on these spelled glasses. He hates them, because they make him look ridiculous, according to him. I told him I thought he'd look adorable. He threatened to hex my next letter.).
This year, however, Marcus is going off to Hogwarts, and I've agreed to pass on helpful information in exchange for class notes and copies of homework (He tells me I'm a shoe-in for Ravenclaw with a half-chance of Slytherin. I can't wait to show off my Bumble-Bee Badger self in three years!). That's why I'm here, in Diagon Alley with Lonny, a bag full of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts (I never understood why people only ever grabbed Galleons. I mean, why break a Galleon when you only had to pay for a couple of Knuts? It just wasn't cost or weight affective to me.).
"Let's go to Flourish and Blotts first," I declared, pointing. "Then we can check out Obscurus Books and Whizz Hard Books, before getting tea at Rosa Lee's. Then we'll browse through quill shops, pop into Slug & Jiggers for their Slytherin Premium Potions Kit, the cauldron shop for just that, and then grab some ice cream at Florean's before heading home. Sound like a plan, Lonny?" I asked my honorary Mother; the House Elf (who was officially my House Elf as of my Seventh Birthday. Her and her newborn son, Buttons. Cobber was still a Nott Elf, but he actually pretty much lived in my Wardrobe with Lonny and Buttons now. He was more of a Dad than Dorian was, so, of course he was welcome.).
"Is be sounding very nice, Mistress Annis," Lonny agreed, smiling softly up at me from under her purple knitted hat. I'd asked her to teach me to knit through showing me (I'm horrible at it) and she'd knitted the hat and I'd told her it looked very nice on her and she'd worn it ever since.
"Onward, then!" I declared, and off to the bookstore we went!
The next three hours was spent there, browsing and skim-reading many, many books. I ended up having to send Lonny back to Gringotts for me to grab more money from my Trust Vault, so that I could still have money for my various stops later.
I bought so many books on so many subjects it's not even funny. Here, I'll give you the gist of it.
In the Potions Section, I bought: Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger, Proper Potion Preparation by Magina Spellcroft, 101 Easy Potions for the Beginning Brewer by Filbert Oxley, Prank Potions for Pranksters by Joe Kurr (I laughed too, it's okay), Cut or Crush: The Debate On Prepping Potions Ingredients by Theresa Thotts, and Household Potions for the Everyday Witch and Wizard by Nigel Nitbottle. That was six books, each of them rounding out to about two Galleons, which, if my calculations are right, would, in USD, be about fifty dollars… I think? (Ugh, math, thou art mine enemy, always.)
In Transfiguration, I bought: A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch, Intermediate Transfiguration by Aldric Fellows, Visualization Is Key: The Truth Behind Transfiguration by Lyla Bonnet, Practical Theory by Holly Homer, Transfiguring Morality: Is Living Transfiguration Too far? by Mortimer Madly, Easy Transfiguration for the Young Witch and Wizard by Yasmine Germain, and Magical Theory: Transfiguration by Brutus Normand. That was seven books, fetching two Galleons each (except Morality, that was five fucking Galleons holy crap.) So, there went a good sixty USD.
The pattern continues through all the Hogwarts Subjects (and I do mean all.) as well as a good dozen other subjects. The Shop Keeper seemed both terrified and terribly amused as he rang up damn near one copy of every book in the shop, including tossing in a free fictional book that they'd officially stopped selling but he'd been fond of (It was called Badgered, and was about a Hufflepuff who had to go under cover in the Muggle World in order to try and find her missing cousin, and was about her misadventures there. Apparently, she eventually falls in love with a Ravenclaw who, in school, had been a complete jackass, they save her sister from some weird Muggle circus (as far as I could tell) and move to Australia to get away from her Family who were against the fact that she'd accidentally gotten pregnant with the Ravenclaws baby out of wedlock. They married, had a baby, and settled down to do her dream job of owning an Apothecary. It seemed very interesting, all things considered.).
Anyways, that done, I decided against going to the other bookstores, my head and eyes aching, and instead turned my attention to Rosa Lee Teabag. Settling in, I enjoyed scalding my tongue on delicious Chai Spice tea, with enough sugar in it to make bystanders teeth rot. Afterwards, I popped into Amanuensis Quills to grab myself a couple dozen new quills, then went to Scribulus Writing Instruments to get the ink and parchment I needed (they were having a sale, so I got a great bundle deal on scrolls).
By the time I had all that done, however, it was edging closer to dinner time, so I sent Lonny to get me my Pewter Cauldron (two, just in case), while I grabbed a Slytherin Premium Potions Kit (better ingredients, case, and vials, with extra ingredients just in case.). With that done, and plans to return the next week for anything else, Lonny took my hand and popped us back to my room where, with a snap of her fingers, my House Elf organized my many, many shrunken things into their rightful places.
…
I am now the proud owner of a miniature library, Jesus. It's a good thing that the bookshelf is magicked so that it can hold multiple shelves worth of books and all you needed to do was press your finger to the knob on the side, state the title or subject, and only that/those books would show up on the shelves.
Magic is fucking amazing.
After a quick dinner of lasagna from Lonny (Fucking love lasagna), I settled in at my desk with Proper Potion Prep, a scroll, a new ink bottle, and a quill at the ready for notes.
I was going to be the fucking best-prepared student ever and damn it if Marcus wasn't going to learn with me.
Settling in, I started reading.
Come at me bro.
Come at me.
A/N: It's not perfect, I know, believe me. Marcus Flint came out of fucking no where and, before y'all get onto me for that, let me tell you right now that, as a kid, I was a horrible, violent little shit and now I don't even like smacking people upside the head. I broke someone's fucking leg with a baseball bat because he told my (at the time seven-years-old) sister to give him a blowjob… Okay, I don't regret that, but the fact remains, guys.
People are different from when they're children.
More to come, no worries!
Review!