C h a m e l e o n
(i don't own either)
Hogwarts would be honored to host a member of the Lost Clan. We understand that a volatile nature that has unfortunately permeated Mabaa's Community, and wish to help in any way we can. However, I am afraid that we are not suitably equipped to handle threats from a Clan that has long since terminated contact with our world.
Lord Death, if we are to accept Ms. Leon into Hogwarts, we would appreciate any protection that you could extend to prevent our students from falling in harm's way.
Angela wasn't impressed. The stupid old guy, Olive or Oliver or Otto or something, had been giving her sticks to try for hours (or something like that) and none of them were working right. Well…ok. She had managed to set Black Star's hair on fire with that unicorn one, so she still couldn't figure out why the storekeeper wouldn't let her have it and just be done with it all.
The brunette sighed as old guy emerged from another row of shelves, carrying yet another thin brown box under his arm.
"Vine. Dragon Heartstring. Nine inches even. Quite flexible. If you would, Ms. Leon?" Ollivander was far from flustered. After all, his newest customer was just shy of the half-hour mark. There was a ways to go until she came anywhere close to setting records.
Tsubaki gave her a packed lunch for the train, all her favorites bundled neatly inside of the bento box. Predictably, Black Star stole and had already eaten most of it by the time they made it to platform 9 ¾ on September 1st, but the ninja weapon only smiled and slipped her another one through the window before the train left; this one a kyaraben shaped like a chameleon's grinning face.
"Write us!" Tsubaki reminded with a smile so wide that it was obvious she was about to cry. Psh. Only babies cried. Angela outgrew crying years ago. "We got you that owl for a reason, Angela-chan!"
"We?" Black Star added in without prompt, haughty tone totally ruining the mood. "I got her a chameleon. Way cooler than an owl."
Uncle Harry had told him at least 50-billion times how he'd met his best mates on the Hogwarts express, so Teddy figured it'd be best to find an empty cabin and let the lifelong friends come to him. Picking them himself was just asking for trouble. But the train was pretty full by the time he finally hugged Granny Dromeda goodbye, and he was quick to realize that there were no more empty compartments.
Ah well. Picking the first compartment at random, Teddy poked his head inside to see a girl (maybe a first year like him?) already in her robes. He blurted a question out before he could think otherwise. "Why're you already in your robes?" Personally, he finds them rather itchy.
"That's a stupid question." The brunette was quick to bite back as she rubbed a hand over her eyes. (Crying?) Maybe not a lifetime friend, but she'd do for amusing company on the long ride to school. Shrugging, he dragged his trunk in behind him.
"I'm Angela Leon." She says while he's busy trying to get his stupidly large trunk to stay on the rack. Granny Dromeda had packed so much clothing that he'd barely had enough room for anything else. Like comics. Or sweets. Or his Quidditch posters. "That's Masa, my owl, and this is Mifune. My chameleon."
"Huh." He said, chewing on that. Chameleon. Chamelon. Suddenly, brunette girl was a little more interesting. Plopping down in his seat (finally! Stupid trunk) it only takes a thought to change his hair from its normal muddy brown to a nice bright green.
"Teddy Lupin." He grinned. "Also a chameleon."
You are an interesting one aren't you? The hat whispered into her ear. Sort of. The low mumbles were too clear for Angela to believe that for long. It was totally in her brain, wasn't it? Ew. Ewww.
I assure you, the hat chuckled, I am quite tame compared to what you will find here at Hogwarts. Hey! She'd seen crazy stuff before. Men turning into chainsaws, for one. Just…nothing so…invasive.
So, he continued nonplussed, a witch from Mabaa's clan? You did well to come when you did. Your wandless magic-
Yeah, yeah. She got it. Giving into insanity from her own power, turning on the ones she loved, finding her name on Shinigami-sama's list of witches whose souls needed to be reaped, etc. Blah blah blah. She'd heard this spiel before. Didn't need to hear it again.
Such a temper, he (it? But the voice sounds kinda boy-ish…) continued on in that almost condescending tone. Ah, but you are afraid, aren't you? You're afraid of what will happen if this arrangement doesn't work. Your surrogates have tried, haven't they? And that swordsman-
She didn't want to hear this. Didn't need to hear this. Forget it, she wanted to say. She could just go pick a table at random.
You have clear goals in mind. You're prepared to betray your very nature to protect those who you care about. Here the hat paused, and Angela could have sworn that she felt it digging further into her brain, deep, deep, deep…
And you want to survive.
"My dear girl," Now it spoke to everyone, and there was a brief moment where she feared that it would relay the mental conversation for all to hear. "You are in SLYTHERIN!"
Teddy hadn't expected to be a Hufflepuff. Not that there was anything wrong with Hufflepuffs! His mum had been one, after all. But…a badger? It was just, well, god this was embarrassing, just that, lions were way cooler. They had claws and fangs and ferocity! What did badgers have?
The hat had probably seen that he was too smart to be a Gryffindor. Must've been it.
"As I assume you have all noticed, we have some new faces not only among your fellow students, but within our staff as well." Headmistress McGonagall's voice cut through the lingering murmurs like a grindylow through seaweed. "I hope you will all join me in greeting Professor Neville Longbottom, who will be taking over for Professor Sprout as our new Herbology teacher." Finally a face he recognized! It was like a security blanket, Uncle Neville was something close to a piece of home in this far away castle where it seemed like everything was so familiar, and at the same time…not.
The newly minted herbology professor briefly stood to distinguish himself from the crowd of teachers and Teddy tried to catch his eye and throw in a wave, but it was lost somewhere among the jumble of students in front of him. The Gryffindor table still hadn't finished their cheer before McGonagall retook the podium.
"Also, we welcome medi-witch Kim Diehl who has chosen to aid Madame Pomfrey in the ever mounting task of keeping you healthy. A particularly daunting task when one considers how many of you insist on testing your transfiguration spells on other students." Was her hair…pink? Teddy wondered if maybe she was a chameleon too. The new witch waved briefly from her seat, but no table welcomed her louder than any other. Huh. Not a Hogwarts grad? She looked young enough that at least the seventh years should've recognized her.
"And finally, Ms. Maka Albarn is our school's new caretaker this year-" the rest of the Headmistress's speech was drowned out in a resounding cheer from every student who wasn't a first year. Made sense. Every aunt and uncle he's got has at least one horror story about Filch. But it's still pretty loud.
"Do you see that skirt mate?!" One upperclassman roared to another and…it couldn't just be because of the miniskirt-
-could it?
"However, please do not be surprised if you spot Mr. Filch wandering the corridors, as he is currently facilitating Ms. Albarn's transition." The collective groan was schoolwide, so Teddy figured, no, it wasn't just the miniskirt.
Thank god. Miniskirts were cootie-generators, after all.
The Slytherin dungeons vaguely reminded her of Baba Yaga Castle. But whereas her bright and colorful room in that castle was practically a freezer, here the dark and dreary stone was actually quite pleasantly warm. And the house elves? Soooo much nicer than the random Arachnophobia guys. Less on the insane side too. Kind of. Depended on your definition of crazy. There was at least something a little mental about looking forward to cleaning toilets.
Three other girls shared her room, which was about the same size as the one she had back at Baba Yaga. The closet-that-really-wasn't-a-closet-but-was-still-just-as-small-as-one that Black Star and Tsubaki had let her use for her room back home couldn't even compare to this; four-poster beds with thick green quilts and porthole-ish windows that let her see out into the murky depths of the Hogwarts Lake.
Garnet, the first roommate she met, reminds her of a female Black Star, minus (most) of the stupidity; constantly active, incredibly loud, and not too good with written homework. Angela had no idea what Quidditch was for all of about five seconds, because after that point, her roomie's gawking is over and she breaks out the models.
This is also the first time she hears the name Harry Potter, though not in the same context that most do. As she later learns, there is only one boy (now a man) who has been hit with the killing curse (twice!) and lived to tell the tale. But for the next three months, she only knows the bespeckled face as that of Gryffindor's once Quidditch captain and seeker.
Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your outlook), Angela misses most of the explanations of the rules and all descriptions of all seven hundred possible fouls. She's too busy trying to figure out how a 70 kilo ball of iron doesn't flat out kill a person from impact.
In all, Garnet is great. One track mind, but still, anything was better than sharing living space with Black Star.
But the deal clincher for this joint?
The giant squid liked to swim by her window.
Slytherin and Hufflepuff had Transfiguration together, so Angela stole a seat next to Teddy before one of his housemates got the chance. He stared at her for a moment, then another, and eventually another.
"What?"
"You're a Slytherin." He pointed this out as if it wasn't as obvious as the badge on her chest. What? It wasn't like this was normal. In every story he'd heard (and he's heard soooo many) people had stuck to their houses. Sure, Uncle Harry was friends with guys from other houses, but he didn't hang out with them.
"And?" The brunette continued, pulling parchment from her satchel as if she had no idea what was going on. Hah. Right. Teddy continued to stare as if she's grown a third head. "Y'know, I don't think you make a good blond." Cheeks somewhat pink (it's not his fault his hair has a mind of its own!), Teddy was quick to try and force it back to brown.
Angela was pretty sure she had an idea of what this was about. This was only day three, but blood purity was explained back on day one thanks to an upperclassman from her house. A long and mind-numbingly-boring recitation of Slytherin's reputation followed right after. Home of most tricks and pranks pre-Fred-and-George-Weasly, cool. Also home of the most blood-based bias in the whole school…not so much.
And there's that thing about Moldemort, or Voldevort, or whats-his-face. (Wizarding history? Definitely not her strong point.)
"You're a Slytherin." He repeated.
"I'm also a witch, didn't 'cha know?" He laughed at that, and Angela considered it a victory in battle; now to win the war. "I don't see what this whole house deal is about anyway." The brunette pouted, slumping downwards in her seat. "There were like…six of us together on the train. And counting me only two of us ended up in Slytherin! And they make it so hard to talk to people outside your house…"
That was true, Teddy wanted to agree. But it's Hogwarts! It's like…tradition. A school thing.
"I've heard it was harder before the second war. You know the school paper? The Hogwarts Herald?" Angela nodded, despite having never known of its existence before this very moment. Eh, what was a little white lie?
"It used to be Hufflepuffs only. Same with the Slytherins and the swim club. And the Model Magi-Conferences were just for the Ravenclaws. I think Gryffindors had fencing a while back…?"
Huh, and here her roomie Brenna had gone and signed up for the Model Magi-Conference. About to tell her tablemate this, Angela paused. Waitaminute. Had he…did he just say….?
"War? What war?"
"My granny was a Slytherin." Teddy added in out of the blue. Deflection! Angela wants to scream. What was it with people and not telling her stuff? "Sweet old lady she is too."
She really was about to yell at him when a moose suddenly trot into the room without preamble. It gazed at them all for a moment with one giant black eye, expression non-plussed. Sure, Angela had heard that Hogwarts got a little…wacky. But nothing like this. Then, pushed by some unseen force, the moose easily ambled towards the podium and stopped behind it, snorting once.
And then, there was suddenly a witch in its place.
"So!" Chirped Professor Ritter, "Who's ready for transfiguration?"
Teddy hadn't been meaning to spend the day spying, but, well…When it was shoved in his face like it had been, it was impossible to turn down the opportunity.
This was the explanation he'd chosen to use if any of his friends found him like this, crouching behind a shelve of books and sneaking glances over his shoulder at the tomes that Ms. Albarn was pulling from the shelves. Try as he might, he couldn't quite catch a glimpse of the actual titles, but the fact that this whole section was filled with sketchy leather-bound research journals couldn't mean anything good. Right?
If he'd learned anything from listening to Uncle Harry's stories, it was that suspicious people were usually up to something. And Caretaker Maka looked like she was most definitely being suspicious. People that pretty had no reason at all to be following in Filch's footsteps.
"What are you doing?"
…Oh crap. A familiar warmth on his scalp alerted Teddy that his hair had probably just changed color from the shock. The caretaker only raised a slim eyebrow, patiently waiting for whatever answer he managed to throw together in the next five seconds.
Except he didn't have an answer. Teddy kind of just stood there, mouth open and looking very much like a deer caught in the headlights.
"You know, people don't appreciate being spied on. It's not polite." And she walked right past him. Just like that, he was off the hook! Obviously, her suspicious plan called for more stealth than killing a student would allow! Or…there was no plan, but that was just what she wanted him to think!
Anyway, one good thing had come out of the embarrassment he'd made of himself for getting caught. When Caretaker Maka had leaned over to glare at him, he'd caught a glimpse of the book she'd held in her arms.
Blóð Blóðmör
…Whatever the hell that meant.
BUT IT WAS STILL SUSPICIOUS!
"Ladies and Gentlemen, that was an amazing bludgeon by first-year Garnet Tribal! I think Brahne is still spinning!" Angela's cheer was drowned out by the other Slytherins, but it was the thought that counted, right? Her second roommate, Brenna, and she waved the giant silver and green banner that they'd constructed for their friend's first game, hoping that Garnet would maybe spot it as she went whizzing by.
It was too bad that the more senior beater, a sixth year by the name of Zachary Canary, had gotten that concussion during practice, but what could you do? Play with less dangerous equipment? Pshah.
"THEY MUST LOSE SO MANY BRAINCELLS!" Brenna shouted over the roar of the crowd, gesturing to her head as if it'd get the point across. It didn't, and Angela couldn't actually hear the words, but she laughed anyway. The wintery air was practically gnawing off her nose, and she had a headache from all the screaming, and Slytherin wasn't even winning, but it was fun. She could taste the magic in the air, and she wasn't some weird witch different from anyone else.
It…fit. She fit.
The insanity wouldn't get her here. It couldn't.
Um…yeah. Random idea inspired by brainstorming with Kashii Ai on the mechanics of integrating SE and HP. Hah. Orignally, this was gonna be a simple one-shot with some slice of life of Angela at Hogwarts. And then it grew a plot and a second, then third, then fourth chapter. Go figure.
So, who wants to guess which OC is a self insert?