This was a challenge that Joe Hundredaire (AKA alienyouthct here) offered on his Holly, Phoenix, Diamond, and Elm... after some feedback. I decided to take a small stab at some of the plot holes and removed some of the OCs that he was putting in. This is most likely as complete as I'll go at this point.
October 31, 1991
"The source is over there. Stop the car."
Her driver obeyed without question, a useful quality when one wanted to stay in her employ and Emma Grace Frost opened her door; pulling her white fur coat tighter around her body as she emerged into the chilly October air of the English countryside. She'd been enjoying a glass of the scotch she'd acquired during the Highlands portion of her British voyage while the car rolled down the A399, heading back towards civilization after visiting the family of another prospective student for her school. Then a chilling, wordless psychic scream had torn through the astral plane and a paler than usual Emma had ordered the car to divert down the B3358 as she searched for the very close cause.
Godric's Hollow. An interesting name for a town. Strangely enough, it hadn't appeared on any of the signs on the highway that advertised other approaching settlements. As she barked terse directions at her driver, a side street had called out to her and they'd turned right onto it. A red sign with gold letters proclaiming 'Welcome to Godric's Hollow' had greeted them, followed by a peculiar mix of extreme old and modern cookie cutter houses.
Her first thought had been an attack of some sort. There were enough malevolent entities out there that you had to be careful. It would be prudent to inform someone in case she was attacked.
'Charles, I've detected a mutant near me. It could be a trap, so do keep an 'ear' out for me just to be on the safe side. I'll be bringing the mutant with me to the Savage Land, of course." Part of her agreement with Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier. Damn them. She felt his faint reply of acknowledgement.
And now here she was and the scene in front of her precluded her first suspicion. Staring at the still smoking house in front of her, Emma decided that further architectural analysis could wait. She could already feel the inquisitive minds beginning to make their way towards the house and with a mutant child inside, she wanted to investigate and be gone before they got there. Especially if they were the cause of… whatever had happened here. She of all people knew what could happen when adults reacted poorly to a child with special abilities.
Entering the house, Emma had frowned at the sheer destruction before her. A single powered individual run amok was looking less and less likely; a battle had clearly been fought here. As she wandered further into the house, she was given a reminder as to why she ought not to rely entirely on her telepathic powers as she stumbled over the corpse of a man with wild black hair and wide hazel eyes staring through his slightly askew glasses. Scowling as she rolled her ankle to shake off the discomfort, Emma looked around the living room and, failing to find any other people -alive or otherwise- headed for the stairs.
There was someone alive up here and rather than waste her limited time exploring the other rooms, Emma let her telepathic powers guide her directly to the proper place through the shadows. This room was just as bad as the living room and home to another casualty: a green-eyed redhead she presumed to be the wife of the man downstairs with her eyes staring at the ceiling. And lying in a crib, externally silent but mind a whirl of noise, was their child.
Emma had never seen anything like it, but had heard whispered by Charles in muted horror. Inside the mind of the child, a dark entity resided, clawing at the boy's soul as it tried to establish a foothold. But incredibly enough, this infant had the mental fortitude to fight the possession, lashing out at the being with a power Emma had never seen or felt before. On one side of the astral battlefield was an amorphous black blob, held at bay by a glowing white stag that continually charged the blob, driving it back with its antlers. With the boy distracted by his battle, Emma easily entered his immature mind and accessed his short-term memory…
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"
"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside now!"
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead! Not Harry! Please, have mercy… have mercy…"
A shrill laughing…
A burst of green light…
…so someone had come here, killed the boy's parents with his powers and then attempted to kill off this child only to be disintegrated when the boy's own power lashed out and saved him. Fascinating. Pulling out of his memories, Emma returned to where the entity and the boy were doing battle, noting that he was slowly losing ground and the entity was beginning to take hold.
There would be none of that. This child was coming with her, she'd decided, and she couldn't afford to bring back any mental hitchhiker that could potentially infect her weaker students. Maneuvering around the astral landscape so she could approach the being from behind, Emma raised her hands and extended tendrils of white psionic power. Wrapping them around the being, she pulled it back away from Harry before transforming them into coils of razor sharp barbed wire. A quick flick of her wrists saw the blackness torn into a hundred pieces, a haunting scream echoing through the mindscape before silence descended. The stag eyed her for a moment before lowering his head and disappearing, Emma pulling herself free of the empty whiteness a moment later.
"Hey! Who are you! What are you doing with Harry?"
Emma's head snapped up, whirling around as she cursed herself for becoming so involved with the boy's mind that she lost touch with the outside world. A wild-eyed man with black hair was standing in the doorway, pointing a… stick at her? How very odd, though it was hard to tell for sure in the darkness and shadows.
"I don't know who you are, lady, but you've got five seconds to back away from my godson before-"
The man never managed to complete his threat. Reaching out with her mind, Emma slammed herself into his consciousness with the subtlety of a tank and knocked him out with a psychic blast, sending him crumpling to the floor for a few minutes. Turning back to Harry, Emma scooped the infant up into her arms. Before she could even take a step towards the door, she felt more minds appearing all over the property. In a peculiar bit of serendipity, whoever was teleporting these people in completely avoided the road, giving her a clear path by which to retreat.
While it was far from her preferred exit strategy…
'Incoming.'
The one word mental message was the only warning Tempest McClain received before a section of the house's second floor exploded outward. A glittering figure sailed through the air, hitting the ground with a thunderous crash that drove her to one knee before rising and sprinting for the car. Tempest turned the key, the car roaring to life as her boss wrenched the left rear door open, diving inside and yanking the door shut. "Drive."
Having experienced weirder while in the employ of the White Queen, Tempest didn't even blink before putting the car into gear and roaring off down the road. "Were you successful in finding what you came for, m'lady?"
"I found something."
Tempest shot glances at her boss through the rear view mirror, watching as the again flesh and blood Emma awkwardly wiggled out of her coat and wrapped a now fussing baby in it.
"What it entails... and what secrets he holds remains to be discovered."
November 3, 1991
"He's not a psi talent." Essex was sitting in the normal front 'office' of his building. The grim concrete effidice in the shadows of a dark copse of trees that was reputed to be haunted. The warehouse was anything mundane looking but once you got past its facade. He was wearing a very nice business suit and leaned forward across his desk as his computer showed a DNA strand with parts highlighted.
Looking up from the reports she'd been reading through, Emma's brow furrowed. "That's impossible. I told you what I saw."
Nathaniel Essex shrugged, thrusting a bundle of papers at her. Emma flipped through them, dismissing them when she recognized that she wasn't anywhere near educated enough in genetics to make heads or tails of what was there.
"He's not a psi talent. He's not a mutant. He doesn't even carry a latent X-gene that could be artificially activated. He's a complete flatscan as far as I can tell."
Glancing over at the white and gold pram containing what she had thought would someday be her greatest student, Emma sighed. "So now what, Essex? Apart from you telling me 'I told you so' and charging me for the comprehensive tests you said were a waste of time when the simple test came up negative?" An intense frustration was building within her; tightly controlled lest Essex take even greater advantage of her misstep.
"I told you so." Emma narrowed her eyes and Nathaniel offered her a smile full of sharp teeth before holding up a second folder. "Moving on… I have a proposal for you. I have a rather questionable experiment I wish to run. You have a child you are disappointed with, favorable genetic material and yourself in a slightly sticky situation. Why don't we make a deal?" The pale man with raven-black hair knew he had surmised correctly from her cryptic comments when she had arrived the first time. She could not take a Flat Scan with her to the Savage Land. Magneto would not allow it.
One blonde brow arched and Emma gestured for him to continue.
"I now have the ability to analyze a person's genes and determine which material came from which parent for the most part. Erik has been after me to begin treating followers of his who have inherited undesirable traits from their parents… mental illness, chiefly, but there are a host of other conditions that I could potentially cure by way of…"
Not particularly in the mood to listen to the questionably sane scientist pat himself on the back all morning, Emma rolled her eyes and gestured for him to get on with it. "While Harry and I are still relatively young, Essex?"
Nathaniel's eyes narrowed at her before he took a slow breath, face smoothing out once more. "Very well. I wish to sample your DNA, combine it with what I believe is the DNA of Harry's mother -hers is more favorable than the lad's father for an experiment like this- and then grow a body from that combination to see what happens. If the result is acceptable, I will transfer Harry's consciousness into it and digitally insert records into relevant databases so that your new blood kin exists legally as well. If whatever power you claim he possesses came from his parents, he will likely still have it, combined with your own formidable abilities." Well, a close approximation, of course. You were never identical unless you did a clone. And even those were not identical. She did want the 'abilities' of the child, after all.
"Interesting. I have only one question for you." While her interactions with Essex had been limited to official business for Charles and Erik before this, she knew how the man operated based on what the two men had told her. "What do you want from me in return? Other than temporary use of my DNA and Harry?"
Rather than look insulted, Nathaniel only offered one of his shark like grins at her question. "Jean Grey. Or her DNA, at any rate."
Emma rolled her eyes. Everyone wanted that little brat these days. Charles had taken a personal interest in her, removing the redhead from Emma's general telepathy classes for personal instruction. Erik was even 'lowering' himself to work with her, using his own trials and tribulations with mastering magnokinesis as a base for instructing her in the use of her telekinesis. And now Nathaniel too wanted a piece of her. Well fine. If it got her what she wanted, she'd chop the damn brat's hand off and bring it in a box. "Agreed. Payment on delivery of the newest Frost."
"Before I begin."
"A quarter of a million now and Grey's DNA when I take delivery." Nathaniel opened his mouth but Emma cut him off with the wave of a hand. "I won't be returning to the Savage Land for a few more days. If you start now, by the time I've flown down, checked in, and returned for my 'follow up visit' with a student I'll claim to have had a favorable meeting with, you'll be done and I'll have what you want. Agreed?"
Inclining his head, Nathaniel spread his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Very well. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll take my samples and then you can say goodbye to Harry…"
November 22, 1991
Watching the man colloquially known as 'Mister Sinister' push a pram across his laboratory towards her was a strange and strangely amusing sight that Emma would treasure for some time to come. Then he reached her and it took Emma only a fraction of a second to realize that she had been double-crossed. Shooting to her feet, Emma's hands curled into fists as she glared at Nathaniel. "What the hell is this?"
"I apologize for not warning you about this particular side effect. I didn't realize until after you left that you might not realize for yourself that it was an inevitable change. But, ignoring the physical differences, your child is perfectly healthy and possesses an X-gene identical to your own in every way." Reaching down, Nathaniel ran his fingers through the child's blonde hair, eliciting a noise of distress as the infant squirmed away from his touch. "Perhaps you might want to call her Harriette from now on?"
Emma cooed softly as she lifted the unhappy girl from the pram, bringing her new daughter up to rest against her chest in an attempt to calm her. As she bounced Harry -who would most definitely need a new name now- up and down gently, Emma closed her eyes. Nobody save Tempest even knew of Harry fully, so there'd be no change to explain away; everyone in the Savage Land would be meeting Harry for the first time in this form. And, at least assuming he was telling the truth, Nathaniel had come through on his end of the bargain. He'd just… changed a bit more of Harry than Emma had anticipated. Opening her eyes, she sighed. "I take it you've held off on the records because of this?" Nathaniel nodded and Emma stared down at the girl that had once been Harry, watching as she looked around with wide green eyes, the sight of Nathaniel causing her to turn and burrow in against Emma's chest. "Very well. Call her Hazel. Hazel Sophie Frost. It's about time someone did something to make people remember that name."
"I could recommend a fellow doctor if you want to discuss those mother issues of yours, Emma darling." His smile would have done a shark quite proud.
"Shut up, Essex." That was disconcerting how much he knew of her. And knowledge was dangerous. Shifting to hold Hazel with one arm, Emma brushed the soft blonde hair back and frowned at the scar that still stared up at her from the child's forehead. "Did you disfigure my daughter's forehead? Because correct me if I'm wrong, but imperfections like this should have been left behind when you grew the new body."
Nodding, Nathaniel attempted to approach the pair, only to stumble backwards when Hazel grunted and shook one tiny fist at him. Two pairs of wide eyes stared at the infant and in her head, Emma crowed in victory. She was no telekine. Whatever Hazel had just done, it hadn't come from the Frost half of her family tree. She wasn't crazy after all. There was something special about this child of hers.
"Fascinating. I think I'll be spending more time analyzing young Har… Hazel's genes after you leave. As for the scar, it wasn't there until I performed the consciousness transfer. Then she began wailing like she was being tortured and as I watched, the scar slowly etched itself into her forehead. I could do nothing to stop it, the cosmetics I sent my assistant out to purchase dissolve when applied and while I'm no Hollywood plastic surgeon, I know enough about cosmetic surgery to repair a simple scar. It would hold for mere hours before the process repeated itself and the scar reappeared on her forehead… just as painfully, might I add." It was of mere academic interest to Essex, but he had no time to properly investigate it. For now.
Emma scowled; she'd been pondering using the former as a temporary fix if she'd returned to find that Nathaniel's experiments had failed with the latter as a long-term solution. She eyed Hazel before sighing. What to do, what to do? Hmmph. By all accounts, wearing white after Labor Day was a major fashion faux pas, as was wearing nothing but one color, but neither of those 'rules' slowed her down. Hazel would just have to wear bangs. And if they weren't popular by the time Hazel had to start making public appearances at her side? She would be another trend breaker, just like her mother.
Coughing to get her attention, Nathaniel's red eyes flicked down to Emma's hips, staring pointedly at the sizable bulge running along her left hip. Sighing, she withdrew a pair of glass tubes in a cryokit from the pocket of her white leather pants with her free hand and placed them on the counter. "Hair and blood. I wasn't sure which would be more useful."
"Blood. Thank you for your consideration. Please keep me in mind for all your future questionable scientific needs." Smiling cheekily, Nathaniel pocketed the two vials and gestured to Hazel's pram. "You can show yourself out, I imagine?" Emma didn't even bother to dignify that with a response, gently depositing Hazel in her pram and offering Nathaniel a parting glare for his cheek before stomping off towards the front of the warehouse he was currently holed up in.
He was already rechecking a screen with the DNA helix, then looked at the new vial. His grin turned positively malicious.
Waiting for her beside the white Bentley Mulsanne parked at the curb, Tempest closed the newspaper she was reading and tucked it under one arm as Emma approached. Her eyes roamed over Emma for a second before she raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "Is everything okay, m'lady?"
Emma nodded as she brought the pram to a stop, reaching in and bringing Hazel to rest against her chest again as Tempest broke the pram down and stored it in the trunk. As the younger blonde came back around to open the right rear door for Emma, she turned to let Hazel see Tempest. "Tempest, meet my daughter Hazel Sophie Frost. Hazel, meet your new Aunt Tempest. She's going to look after you when I'm busy."
"Hello, Hazel. It's nice to mee…" Tempest leaned in, reaching in with a finger to poke at the infant's stomach, only to go stumbling back just as Nathaniel had. Worse, in her case; Tempest had the misfortune of tripping over a crack in the sidewalk and falling onto her ass. "What the fu…"
Clearing her throat, Emma narrowed her eyes at her personal assistant. "Ahem. There are young ears present, Tempest." She ignored the girl's giggle from below her chin.
Tempest blushed as she clambered back to her feet. "Yes, m'lady. But… what just happened? I thought she was a flatscan who was going to get your powers? Did Master Essex do something to give her extra powers? Is she a telepath and a telekine like Miss Grey?"
"In a fashion. She's got my telepathy and transmorph powers, at least according to Sinister, but… well, you're the second person she's shoved away today. Evidently, the power that I saw on Halloween and Sinister claims doesn't exist… exists." Emma eyed her new daughter; they'd have to do something about the girl's antisocial tendencies and quick. As cute as it was when it was happening to a man Emma disliked or her young assistant, Emma knew Erik wouldn't find it anywhere near as amusing to be pushed around by a baby and neither would some of his Savage Land followers. "You're not going to ask the obvious?"
Looking from Emma to Hazel and back, Tempest offered a faint shrug. "You told me that the new body was going to be a combination of Harry's mother and you, right?" Emma nodded. "One woman plus one woman equals one woman. Where would the boy bits come from?" An extremely simplistic version of what Emma had come to realize herself, but accurate enough. "Besides, think of it this way, m'lady: you'll be much better equipped to raise a daughter than a son. After all, you've already lived through everything she'll go through."
Emma nodded. Tempest had a point. One that hadn't even occurred to her, strangely enough. Then again, she hadn't exactly had the time to indulge in deep thoughts about the situation. "Door." Tempest jumped to open the door for Emma and the blonde slid into the car, placing Hazel in the - unsurprisingly - white car seat before buckling herself in. Tempest took her seat behind the wheel and as the engine growled to life, Emma opened a small white cooler resting in the middle of the back seat, extracting a bottle of scotch and a glass with three ice cubes conveniently resting in the bottom. "Onward to Heathrow, Tempest. The sooner we get back to the Savage Land, the better. I positively cannot wait to let my hair down and…" She trailed off as she looked up to find the woman staring at her oddly in the rear view mirror. "What?"
"While it's not really my place to say anything, m'lady, should you really be drinking while…"
"I'm not pregnant, Tempest, I'm the mother of an adopted baby that became a test tube baby that was then growth accelerated. I can drink if I damn well please." Raising her glass, Emma took a large pull of the fiery liquid to demonstrate. "That's why I pay you: so I can drink and still get places. Now kindly remember why I employ you and return your eyes to the road."
"Yes, m'lady."
September 1, 2001
Yawning, Hazel Frost blinked as she stared up at the ceiling. A starscape? The ceiling of her bedroom didn't have a… oh, wait. Shaking off the fuzziness of sleep, she sat up and looked around at the lavish hotel room. Right, she wasn't at home anymore. Her family had come to London a week ago, taking up residence in a series of posh hotel suites so she could explore the city a bit and acquire her school supplies before heading off to this mysterious 'Hogwarts' place.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. While Hazel had always known she was slightly different from the rest of the mutants inhabiting the Savage Land, managing to do all sorts of odd little things that weren't the least bit related to her mutant powers once they manifested, she hadn't seen that one coming. She was a witch. Supposedly. A real witch, and boy had that pissed Wanda Lehnsherr off to no end when she'd heard.
Sliding out of bed, Hazel grabbed the white silk dressing gown she'd thought to lay over the back of the nearby desk's chair the night before and padded down to the end of the bed. Kneeling down in front of the over-sized wood and metal trunk -and Lordy had she gotten odd looks from the bellhop for that one- she removed the necklace she was wearing and grabbed the key hanging from it, sticking it into a lock with a snowflake painted beneath it and turning it to the left. The lock clicked and the trunk opened, displaying a wide variety of clothing both magical and muggle, all white.
What else would one expect from the eldest daughter of Emma Grace Frost, White Queen of the Savage Land and the Hellfire Club?
Not sure exactly what the customs of the school were in regards to uniforms on the first day, Hazel decided to wear one of hers rather than casual clothes. With her luck, if she wore something else they'd be required to change into their uniforms in mid-ride and she had no desire to try her luck at dressing and undressing aboard a rocking train. Digging through the trunk, she began placing articles of clothing on the end of the bed: a white button-front blouse, a white vest featuring a badge with the crest of Hogwarts -which featured some sort of curious magic that would transform it to match her house once she was 'sorted' at school, according to the seamstress at Madam Malkin's- and a black tie that would likewise transform to match the coloring of her house, a pair of white slacks, and white socks. A pair of white leather loafers were left sitting beside her trunk as she grabbed a white bra and panties from the far right side of the trunk and headed for the bathroom.
Stripping down and stepping into the shower, Hazel turned up the water as hot as she could stand it, closing her eyes and letting it wash over her upturned face as she thought about what was to come. Harry Potter was a name nobody had used for her since… well, she'd become a her. Now she was returning to the land of her birth, the land of her birth parents and to a past she had long ago abandoned.
And the best part was, they had no idea 'she' was coming. Even though their method of delivery -and who was the genius who'd thought up sending mail by slow-flying, pellet regurgitating birds?- could figure out that Harry Potter and Hazel Frost were one and the same enough for her to receive letters from the school, someone had evidently failed to inform the staff there about her transformation. All her letters had come addressed to 'Harry Potter' and she'd declined to correct them. They'd find out soon enough… when she arrived at Hogwarts. A bit mean to be sure, but it was their fault for not doing their jobs right, she reasoned.
Pulling back out of the spray, Hazel blinked the water out of her eyes before reaching for one of the bottles of shampoo they'd brought from home. Not that the hotel wasn't well stocked with all manner of products in miniature bottles, but she really did prefer the lavender scented shampoo, conditioner, and body wash she had made for her in the Savage Land. A nice floral scent without being overpowering, and the organic products were far better for her hair and skin than the harsh chemicals flatscans preferred. Squirting a dollop of the purple shampoo into her hand, Hazel began working it through her thick blonde curls as she pondered what her future held.
While her copy of Hogwarts: A History remained unopened and unread at the bottom of the second compartment of her trunk, she'd heard enough in the last week by eavesdropping to have a vague idea of how the student body at Hogwarts operated. At the beginning of each year, the incoming students were sorted by means unknown into one of four houses, named after the founders of the school and reflecting different traits: Gryffindor for the brave, Hufflepuff for the just and loyal, Ravenclaw for the clever, and Slytherin for the cunning and ambitious.
Fortunately or unfortunately for her, she was rather certain she was Slytherin bound. Not that she particularly minded; cunning and ambition were positive qualities in her book. But Hazel had also heard the derision with which the name Slytherin was spoken… the house was almost universally reviled by the other three-quarters of the wizarding world, supposedly the birthplace of all dark wizards and witches. How would they react, Hazel wondered, when their precious savior ended up there?
Oh yes, she was aware of that quaint little fact. The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts had contained the story of her defeat of 'You-Know-Who', among other interesting… well, Hazel had a hard time thinking of them as anything more than fairy tales. After all, if they actually thought she had defeated some incredibly evil wizard back when she was still crapping in diapers, how accurate could the rest of the book be?
Stepping back under the showerhead, Hazel let the water run through her hair, washing the shampoo away. In all honesty, she could have done without the famous name. She got enough of that when dealing with flatscans because of her mother's wealth and in the Savage Land because of Emma's position. Sadly, though, she could think of no way to get 'Hazel Frost' on the school's rolls apart from showing up and claiming her past as her present.
She wasn't looking forward to it, either. Rubbing conditioner into her hair, Hazel paused and shuddered as she thought back to her two encounters with the creepy old man who'd sold her a wand. His reverence regarding her hideous facial disfigurement had been more than a little disturbing, almost but not quite eclipsing his excitement at selling her a wand that was somehow connected to the wand of her parents' murderer. Claiming it had been a two step process, actually; the damn thing had exploded in her hand the first time she'd waved it for him, her quick reflexes and gem-like form being the only things that saved her from severe burns. After that little incident, the wand's phoenix feather core had been stripped of the fragments of charred holly clinging to it and resheathed in eleven inches of rich, reddish brown English elm.
Still, if Ollivander's behavior was anything to go by, Hazel wasn't looking forward to her time in the wizarding world in the least.
A familiar presence approached the bathroom door and Hazel turned, leaning back to dip her head back under the water as three quick raps sounded. "Yes, Vi? And before you ask for the thirty-seventh time, I know it's you because I'm a telepath, Einstein." Although she had to admit her telepathic powers were just starting to manifest to any really useful ability. Luckily she had her mother to train her in her new, burgeoning abilities. At least it was better than when she had spontaneously mimicked her mother's diamond transformation.
"You know, I still say it's not fair of you to make fun of me for things I think because I'm half-asleep but aren't stupid enough to say out loud." The door opened just wide enough to admit a slim, purple-haired girl, Violette Nowak stumbling over to the room's sink and splashing some cold water on her face to help shake off the remnants of her grogginess. "Are you almost done? We…"
"…have to be there at 11:00 AM. Leaving the hotel no later than 10:00 AM. It was 8:13 AM when you rolled out of the bed and came in here. I could take another forty-five minutes in here and still be out in time for you to have an hour of your own. Crud. Loofa?" A white puff came sailing over the top of the shower stall and hit her in the face. Hazel scowled at her attendant's giggles, catching it before it hit the tile floor. "Thank you, serving girl 'o mine. You may go now."
The frosted glass of the shower kept Hazel from properly seeing Vi but the exasperated sigh often accompanied a roll of the purple-haired mutant's eyes and so Hazel felt safe in assuming she was probably the recipient of both. "Yes, Mistress. Right away, Mistress. Seriously, though, I'm going to go put in the call for breakfast for us and the rugrats. I know I'm sticking with British, Laurel's keeping to her carnivore thing and the quints are a mixed bag. Continental or British for you?"
Pausing, Hazel turned to eye her attendant as best she could. "Do you really have to ask, Vi?"
"Right, right, Continental. Girlish figure and all that crap."
Squirting a large glob of body wash onto her loofa, Hazel closed the cap on the bottle and hurled it up and over the top of the shower stall, grinning when Vi let out an indignant squeak and dodged, the bottle hitting the floor with a clatter.
"Brat. I'm just saying, the good parts on women are made of at least some fat. It wouldn't kill you to eat eggs and bacon once in a while instead of fruit and brioche."
Scrubbing at her arms, Hazel shrugged even though Vi turning away to pick up the bottle of body wash meant her gesture went unseen. She tended to emote when talking telepathically to people in other rooms, too. Old habits just died hard. "And you could stand to eat a bit more fruit and a bit less fatty, greasy junk, especially with how much you like to wear skirts. The only reason Mother isn't on Laurel for her eating habits is because she burns more calories than she takes in."
The body wash came sailing back into the shower stall to hit Hazel on the head. "There's nothing wrong with my thighs. And just for that, I'm going to order you the same thing I'm eating for breakfast. And if you don't like it, you can go hungry."
Rubbing the top of her head, Hazel scowled as Vi sniffed and stalked out of the bathroom. Like hell would she be eating a greasy English breakfast. Someone was looking for a free one-way ticket to Lobotomyville. As she let the water run over her, washing the suds away, Hazel realized she wouldn't have it any other way. While Emma couldn't understand why Hazel allowed Vi so much freedom, Hazel in turn couldn't understand how her mother tolerated having such a mindless yes-woman stuck to her butt. Given Vi was a constant fixture in her life and would be for the foreseeable future, Hazel found it easier to treat the girl as a close friend as opposed to a Blackberry with a pulse.
Then again, her mother often preferred the vinegar approach while she was more of a honey…
Turning off the water, Hazel slid the shower door open just far enough to find one of the two towels she'd laid out for herself, giving herself a quick rub down before wrapping it around her body. The second went around her head, helping leech water out of her mass of wet curls as she opened the bathroom door and reentered the bedroom. Seven heads turned to look at her and Hazel raised a brow. "Since when was my bedroom the official family dining room?"
"Something came for you. Knocked on my window." Laurel Frost nodded in the direction of the identical quintuplets, who were piled on Hazel's bed like a clump of kittens. "They followed me over when I came to bring it to you."
Bringing what, Hazel wondered to herself.
Then Laurel pulled her hand out from behind her back, a very dead owl impaled on her twin bone claws, a box tied across both its legs. "Sorry. It kinda attacked me and… yeah."
Sighing, Hazel began mentally setting aside galleons to send to Flourish and Blotts as restitution. A good owl was expensive and the one stuck to Laurel's claws looked particularly sturdy. Fifty galleons; better safe than sorry, she decided. And another five for their trouble. "Next time, do us all a favor and just leave the window shut, yeah?"
Later that day, King's Crossing.
As the gleaming, new Bentley Azure came to a stop in front of King's Cross, Hazel waited for Vi to open her door and step out before pushing the seat forward and following. Thanks to the unique magical properties of her luggage, there was only one trunk between the two of them and when Vi returned from just inside the station's front doors with a cart, the pair manhandled the over-sized trunk onto it. Thankfully, she'd opted not to buy a familiar this year; a cat carrier might have gone unquestioned, but a rat habitat or owl cage definitely would have raised eyebrows. And Lord only knew what Laurel might have done to an owl in the last week.
"Hazel."
Pausing, Hazel looked back at her mother, who was in the process of sliding into the front passenger's seat. As much as Hazel would have preferred to have her mother accompany her all the way to the platform, she could understand her mother's desire to avoid the paparazzi and questions by staying outside. The magical world would probably prefer things that way too.
"No matter what they do or say, you are my daughter. Remember that. And Violette... try not to commit any felonies." The purple-haired girl opened her mouth, only to be cut off by Emma. "I don't care if you think you'll get away with them. Behave."
"Yes, Mother." Hazel barely managed to control rolling her eyes in frustration as she tightened her mental defenses.
"Yes, Miss Frost." Vi's tone told Emma that she would consider the order, but would break it if she really felt the need.
With that, Emma nodded to Tempest and the car merged back into traffic, leaving the two girls standing outside the train station with their luggage. Hazel nudged Vi in the ribs and the purple-haired girl rolled her eyes before getting into place behind the cart, pushing it through the front doors of King's Cross. It took the pair a few minutes to make sense of the map and navigate to the secondary building, only to find that.
"I still can't believe that we have to walk through a wall," Vi complained as she pulled their trunk on a cart.
Hazel sniffed, but could only agree. The letter addressed to her former self had included instructions for how to get to Diagon Alley and Platform 9 & ¾'s. It was strange -and something she and her mother had discussed- how these wizards seemed to know some things exceedingly well, but failed to realize her current status. Like the fact that she lived in the fifth upper bedroom of the Frost Tower.
They were slightly early, so only had a little trick in following an older girl and her mother through the wall. The older teen tried not to stare at white robes, but they really stood out here on the platform. Only the adult wizards and witches wore colored robes. If the teens did wear robes, they were uniformly dark.
It only took a few minutes for Vi to get the trunk into the first open compartment near the rear of the brilliant red train. It looked classically mundane enough, if garish, Hazel thought. "So I wonder if we will really make it to Hogwarts today?"
"That's what the letter said," her companion said. She had added a black over-cape to her outfit that almost made her fit in over her 'muggle' clothing. The gauntlets had caught a few people's attention, but they were polite enough not to stare.
About ten minutes before they were supposed to leave, the door opened and interrupted Hazel and Vi's light discussion.
"Um, is there room?" a brown-haired girl with freckles asked.
Hazel nodded her blonde head to her left, which had the open seat next to the door. "Of course."
"Is this your first year?" the new girl asked as she tapped her trunk with her wand. A small smile lit up when the trunk almost leaped up to the top rack on its own. "Father's spellwork was excellent as always."
"Yes, this is my first year," the blonde replied, watching that in interest. "So you can do triggered spells. Interesting."
"Mandy Brocklehurst," the witch said. "That's right. You must be muggle-born then. Which there's nothing wrong with, of course. Just means you have a bit more to learn."
Vi snorted in a very non-dainty way. "Violette Nowak. I think some witches and wizards could learn how to be slightly subtle. Because that sure wasn't out there." She nodded her head heavily enough to knock some of her purple hair out of its bun at the eclectic crowd outside.
"Well, you'll fit in well enough. Though I think your white robes might get you into a spot of trouble." Mandy shrugged as she sat down at their odd clothing and Vi's hair. "I can't place your accent."
"I am Hazel Frost. My mother made sure I had the best comportment tutors to refine my voice," the Frost heir said with a smirk. "It was a bit tiresome, but it does make sure that I don't sound unlettered. Or very American."
The train's last boarding whistle sounded and then with a blast of steam, they started to move.
"So you are actually from across the pond? And you are going to Hogwarts? That's unusual. Salem usually handles things within their own area," Mandy asked curiously.
"We move around a lot and my natural parents went to Hogwarts. And I understand their might be an inheritance. That will probably take a bit to unravel as they died over a decade ago." Hazel shrugged her white-clad shoulders. She was not certain that anything from the Potter's would be worth anything. But there might be some interesting magical item, she supposed.
"Yes, so I see. So which sort of magic do you think you would like to do? I'm very partial to transfiguration and charms. My father would like me to do potions, but warned me that it is hard to get the marks to get your NEWTS in it."
"Newt?" Vi asked curiously. "I know that old witch limerick about eye of newt and all."
"They do have some magical function, but then there's a lot of old magic that hasn't been totally forgotten. Of course, Muggles think its all superstitious nonsense. Which my father says is for the best. Otherwise we'd keep getting pestered like royal court wizards." Mandy changed her voice to mimic a much older man. "Why can't I get a love potion?"
Hazel and Vi shared a surprised look at that. That was not something they had encountered before. "So this wizarding world is shutting out the mundane one because they don't want to be annoyed?" Hazel asked finally.
"Exactly."
Vi pursed her lips. "Interesting. You know, that has some similarities to our home situation."
"But back to NEWTS. Those are the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests." Mandy frowned. "They're like A-level's that my mother took. Basically something you need to do well to get a good job after school. So very important."
"That's quite an interesting acronym," Hazel said in a lazy term.
"A bit odd, but I think someone had a bit of humor on it," the half-blood said.
There was a knock at the door and an older witch in black robes opened the door. "Would you like anything off the cart?"
"A couple of chocolate frogs, please. They are fairly safe. Mother packed me some sandwiches, but a treat never hurts," Mandy said.
"I'll get a box of them then," Hazel said after a moment.
"How about you, Vi?"
"I'm good, I think. I packed a few candy and granola bars along with the catered lunch boxes we got from the hotel." The purple haired girl did not seem to worried.
As the older witch was filling their order and taking their wizarding coins, a young blond moved past with his two friends. His cold blue eyes flicked over the occupants, but continued on without missing a beat. His low brow stout companions did not even do more than glance in.
"Thanks, ma'am. Now you have to watch out for the frogs. They like to try to leap away for a few hops before the charm fails. The cards are collectibles," Mandy explained as she pulled out a little box and touched it with the tip of her wand. The frog tried to make a hop for it, but she more than handily caught it.
"There aren't real frogs inside? Oh, thank heavens. You never know," Vi said then sighed. She had been caught in too many pranks at times.
Hazel just snickered at her companions discomfort. She, of course, had been the cause of most of those pranks.
It was not until after their lunch that they did more than talk or some light reading. That was when a young boy knocked on the door. He was a bit pudgy with a mop of blond hair on top. "Excuse me, have you seen a toad?"
"Sorry. No pets here at all." Mandy waited while the other too just shook their head.
They had barely settled back down when the door opened again. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," the bushy-haired girl said abruptly.
"We already told 'Neville' that we have not seen it," the telepath said, getting upset at being interrupted from her conversation. "Shoo."
"Honestly," the girl snapped back. The door slid back a little heavily, slamming shut.
"Pushy girl. I pity the house she is sorted in. Perhaps a consolation fund should be set up?" the Frost scion murmured.
"I'm not contributing. Not like I get a lot of spending money," Vi replied while reading of Hogwarts: A History.
"We'll just have to hope the odds are on our side that we aren't in the same house," Mandy said uncertainly. She then pointedly looked down at Vi's gauntlets. "Armor?"
"Gauntlets that help contain my electricity," Vi replied casually as she flipped a page. This was something that she and Hazel had gone over before. They were not going to hide her mutation nor that she was a mutant. But they were not going to exactly flaunt it in their faces either.
"You're stuck doing accidental magic?" Mandy asked curiously, putting her own book to the side.
"Does that sort of thing happen?" the White scion asked casually.
"There have been stories about wizarding children that seemed 'stuck' in some sort of element- elementalism," Mandy explained, tripping over the longer word. "Almost squibs in some ways, but could control fire or ice naturally. I don't think they have found anyone like that in a while thought."
"Hmm..." Hazel spent a long moment thinking. "So rather like mutants that can only do one thing, but one thing well?"
The non-mutant blinked, then frowned. "You know, that's very possible. I wonder why no one- You're a mutant?" she almost shrieked in surprise at Vi.
"Bingo! Electrokinetic. But they are sorta stuck 'on' and I have to use these to control them. Otherwise I keep zapping things and people." The purple-haired girl twirled a long strand of hair. "I have a secondary mutation of purple hair. Like an anime!"
Mandy was studying them both carefully now. "You weren't surprised, of course. Are you a mutant, Hazel?"
"What makes you think that I am?" the white-clad girl asked. She had already put aside her copy of the basic transfiguration.
"Intuition."
"Very good." And it was not telepathic or empathetic, from what the burgeoning telepath could tell. "You do not have a problem with that?"
Mandy replied truthfully, "Not really. I'm sure someone might, but really what are mutant powers except just a different sort of power. I know that the wizarding newspapers debate the situation every once in a while, but they are really just making noise. No one has a real clue about it."
"Interesting."
"So what is your mutant power?" Would she be able to fly, the witch thought to herself.
Hazel just smirked as her skin suddenly turned into a translucent sheen of pale blue-green. "I can transform into a form of living gem-like mineral."
"Oh, that's very stunning. And you don't have any problem controlling it?"
Vi shook her head. "No, she was rather lucky for not having any trouble with it so young."
Hazel was fairly young to have as good a control as she did. Most mutants were further along through puberty when their powers manifested. Of course, having her mother help her figure things out had helped quite a bit.
"This is going to be a very interesting year, I think." Mandy looked quite intrigued.
Hazel just grinned as she reverted back to her 'human' form.
Later that evening, Hogsmeade Station.
As the sun was starting to go down, the train started to slow.
"One day. Definitely not a normal train then," the electro-kinetic stated in curiosity.
"Yes, a nice piece of magic to make sure it can make the trip from London in one day, but never arrive before sunset," the half-blood explained happily.
That confused the other two, but they followed Mandy's lead and left their one trunk on the train. Outside in the bustle of black-robed students, a deep voice called out from the tail end of the train station, "Firs' years, this way. Firs' years, this way!" This giant of a man was quite intimidating to most of the student. He was taller than Juggernaut and wider than the blob, but did not actually look fat.
"Mutant?" Vi whispered to her.
"Possibly. Perhaps magic would also explain it. Occam Razor is not quite as sharp as it used to be," Hazel replied. She was a spot of pure white among all the first years as they walked down a path towards the lake.
"Only four to a boat," the bristly-bearded man called out. His beetle-black eyes studied each of them curiously and raised an eyebrow at Hazel and Vi, who both did not fit in properly.
Hazel led her trio to a small coracle which barely sloshed as they sat it in. Even this Hagrid fellow did not cause a problem with the small boat. The boats moved without any apparent motive source across the black lake.
The castle was quite brilliant as it appeared around a hill on the edge of the lake. Vi was quite thrilled, while Hazel tried not to show any interest. They had both been to a few castles thanks to Emma's trips abroad, of course.
"Duck yer heads here," Hagrid warned. It was actually unnecessary for any of the children, but the followed the instructions.
Hazel was not too thrilled with the green smear on her shoulder and tried to clean it off with her hanky as everyone debarked on the torchlit stone dock.
"I don't think that's coming off without some bleach-" Vi was starting to say when Mandy's wand touched the stain as she muttered a word. The stain lifted off and puffed into the air.
"Thank you, Mandy. That sounds like a useful spell," Hazel said as she let a bit of wonder through her facade.
"Dad has been teaching me useful home-spells. He says Hogwarts really doesn't go into those much, but they are far too handy." Mandy got into line as all the First Years followed Hagrid up the stairs.
Up ahead, they heard Hagrid boom out, "The Firs' Years, Professor McGonnagal."
This witch was older with her hair down up tightly, making her look very severe. "Thank you, Hagrid. I am Professor McGonnagal, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts." She hid a sigh to herself as she led them to a waiting room. "Soon you will be sorted into your houses. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. This will be you home and family while at Hogwarts." Her eyes settled on Hazel for a long moment. "We don't have time for you to change into your Hogwart's robes, miss." With a wave of her wand, McGonnogal charmed the set of white robes black. "Please be sure to use your student's robes in the future. All of you, wait here."
The professor disappeared through a door before Hazel could build up her head of indignation as Vi chuckled.
"Like your mother would have allowed any students at the Massachusetts Academy to not wear the uniform," Vi said in a low voice.
"She should have asked," Hazel snapped back.
"I think she's a bit preoccupied."
"I'm sure you don't really have to fight a troll to get put into one of the houses," a dark-skinned boy said to a morose red-headed boy.
"Are you sure?" the red-head asked.
"Positive."
They had a small disturbance from a group of ghosts that walked through the wall in the back and after exchanging pleasantries with the nearly petrified students, continued on towards the same direction that McGonnagal had disappeared earlier. Just a minute later when the deputy headmistress reappeared, they all trooped into the great hall. It was laid out with a table for each house and then the head table for the teachers.
"It's charmed to look like the outside. Just like Hogwarts: A History explained," the bushy-haired know-it-all said to the red-headed boy that had thought they were going to have to wrestle a troll.
Hazel just rolled her eyes at that. She really hoped that girl did not end up in Slytherin with her.
"Single file," McGonnagal called out. Then she called out the first name.
Mandy was sorted into Ravenclaw, much to her delight.
"Potter, Harry," McGonnogal called out.
As if she had no worries, Hazel walked to the front of the Great Hall like she was some sort of princess. A bit of laughter and whispered conversations started up immediately. She cringed at the ragged hat that was placed on her head when she sat on the stool.
'You're going to have to let me in a bit, Miss. Otherwise I won't be able to sort you,' the Sorting Hat said telepathically. Though it was an odd form of telepathy in feeling.
"Slytherin!" the hat crowed instantly as she lowered her mental defenses slightly. 'And have a good day, Girl-That-Lived.'
Hazel frowned at that last parting comment as the hat was thankfully removed from her head. She walked sedately over to her new seat, sitting next to a slightly older girl that shook her hand in greeting. The rest of the school seemed shocked, but the Slytherins seemed quite pleased.
Hazel started fretting with the sleeve of her black robe again. How plebeian.
The Slytherins were not sure what to make of her actions and form though.
"Harry Potter?" a platinum-blonde boy asked her in confusion.
"It's actually Hazel Frost now, but yes." She held her hand out for a quick shake.
"Draco Malfoy. That's an interesting disguise," the young wizard.
"It's not a disguise. Though it is a bit complicated."
"Move over, Hazel." Vi squeezed in next to her.
"You haven't been sorted," one of the new Slytherins said in shock.
"Won't be either. Don't worry about it."
The Slytherins shared a couple of quick glances, then shrugged it off. The rest of the sorting proceeded smoothly. Hazel was quite thrilled to find out that the Granger girl had ended up in Gryffindor. She probably would not have to deal with her at all.
Supper was more heavy than she liked, though the quality was decent. Alas, it was not up to Malfoy's standards as he was quite willing to explain in detail. "They need to retrain their House Elves," he explained to the Hazel, thinking he was scoring points with her.
Dumbledore stood up up and made some announcements. There were some uneasy chuckles from his comment of a bloody death if you explored the third floor.
Pansy Parkinson sighed at that. "Brilliant and powerful, but quite mad."
"Is that normal?" Hazel asked curiously.
"I think he's powerful enough that people accept his eccentricities," Draco explained with an indelicate snort. He obviously did not agree with that.
That was when she felt a minor twinge from her forehead and the indistinct impression that someone was trying to read her mind. She turned and looked towards the head table, seeing one of the teachers glaring at her as his turbaned companion chatted with him.
Finally, after the very strange school song, they were dismissed.
"Harry Potter," the tall, sallow-cheeked man called out as he loomed over the blonde witch. It was the same man who had been staring at her earlier.
"I prefer Hazel Frost, sir," she said politely.
"Professor Dumbledore wishes to discuss matters with you. Follow." His sneer of disdain was the height of incivility. He turned, letting his cloak billow melodramatically as he moved through the crowd that parted for him quite quickly. Vi fell in behind them almost silently.
He led them up a few sets of stairs at a fast pace, then whispered something to a gargoyle that leaped out of the way to reveal a set of stairs that spun up into the darkness. With casual aplomb, he stepped on a step and was whisked out of sight.
The two girls followed with nearly the same grace and then through the open door. Dumbledore sat behind his desk that had a fair amount of paperwork that he was working on. Behind him and to the left of him a resplendent bird trilled a greeting as its long tail feathers ruffled out slightly.
"Ah, Miss Potter. I do appreciate you coming up so we could have this discussion," the bearded professor said with a kindly smile.
"Let us dispense with this childish antics first," the man who had led her up. He wand was up and a spell shouted into her face instantly, to no apparent affect.
Vi started to charge up her electrical attack before she was interrupted.
"Professor Snape, there is no need for that. Miss Potter is not under the affect of any spell or potion. I was quite intrigued that the Muggles can transplant a soul to another body, though I do not believe they did that part on purpose." Dumbledore's tone was politely interested.
"I see that you have me at a bit of a disadvantage, professor. Perhaps you can explain why you prefer to refer to my birth name that I have not used since my mother rescued me?" Hazel's tone was a bit harder at this point, even as Vi relaxed behind her from the apparent non-attack.
"It was never changed legally with the Ministry of Magic, so it is your name. I am sure that I can help you file the proper paperwork to get that changed," the old man said with a twinkle in his eye.
Snape looked like he had eaten something quite foul, but Hazel's gaze was unwavering on the older wizard.
"That does not explain how you know of my situation, professor."
"Ah, I do have to have a few secrets, though it is not really that mysterious. It took a while to trace you down. Your Mr. Essex had put his operation upon an old Roman burial site and that was enough to mask your location. And when I found you at your mother's place, I had been afraid that certain blood protections had failed." He had a grand smile under his mustache. "Imagine my surprise to find them quite well and blooming thanks to Ms. Frost's unorthodox method of becoming one of your mothers. A little warding on your home, a bit of discussion with some old acquaintances from the Second World War and you were settled into a suitable home. In fact, you were probably well served there, as your aunt's place would have not been a pleasant place to grow up as a witch or wizard."
"Harry Potter is the Girl-That-Lived?" Snape sputtered out as his face nearly turned an interesting shade of white.
"I prefer Hazel Frost, thank you Professor Snape. So you knew where I lived? Why did you not approach my mother then?" the Frost girl demanded.
"She is still a muggle and there are certain legal limitations in place. And really, she seemed to be doing a marvelous job by the time I tracked you down that Christmas. It was a bit tricky, too. Poor Logan nearly skewered me. He didn't even remember me from that atrocious bit of fighting near Treblinka. I thought he had been hit with a few too many memory charms, but he informed me that it was done with some brain-washing. Ah, that Muggles can do so many amazing, yet horrific things these days without magic."
"You know Wolverine from World War Two?" Vi exclaimed in surprise.
"Ah, yes. The young Muggle you brought along. And what is your name, young girl?" Dumbledore asked directly.
"Violette Nowak," the mutant said politely in reflex due to her training as Hazel's companion.
"Ah, yes. One of Hazel's friends from the Savage Land," the old wizard said as he stroked his beard. "Hmm. Let me check something." He waved his hand and a book flew from one of the many shelves as the portraits looked on. He had his nose in the book almost the moment it was in his hand.
"A Muggle?" Snape asked in a strangled tone.
"And not just a Muggle, but a Mutant... Wizard." Vi let a trickle of electricity flow from one gauntlet to the other.
They were interrupted before they could come to blows; Snape with his wand out and Vi's hands crackling with electricity. "Ah, perfect! While the situation is not exactly the same, it is close enough for our purposes. Professor Snape, let everyone know that Miss Nowak is Miss Frost's maid in waiting." Dumbledore looked quite pleased as he read the passage again from his own copy of Hogwarts: A History.
"A maid?" Vi asked in consternation.
"A cunning solution, headmaster," Hazel said with a smirk. "I take it that some nobles in old times had to be allowed their maids or manservants?"
"Exactly. It appears the Sorting Hat did a very good job this year. That reminds me. Professor Snape is the head of your house. He will be able to guide you to your room."
Snape took off in a ground eating pace without a by-your-leave, seeming incensed by the meeting. The two girl's had to rush to keep up as he led them down several flights of stairs to an engraved snake in an apparently random wall in the dungeons. Hazel tried to slip into Snape's mind carefully, only to be blocked thorougly though she felt some cracks due to his anger. She retreated instantly though, as it appeared he had a trained mind.
Snape turned and stared at Hazel with suspicion, but his penetrating mind met Hazel's mentat trained defenses; a standard for Mutants in the Savage Land, of course. "This is the entrance to the Slytherin common rooms. The password is Basilisk Venom."
The bricks moved out of the way as they entered past several of the older students that were sitting on the comfortable, green couches.
Snape had a smirk as he led them to a doorway. "The girl's dormitory."
When Hazel stepped through without a flicker of a problem, he hid his dissapointment well. Her steps led her to one of the seven doors down the hallway that opened before her. Four faces looked up from some magazines they were reading as their conversation ground to an abrupt halt.
"Harry Potter?" Pansy Parkinson asked in shock. "I would have thought Hogwart's magic would see through your prank and poisoned you." She was looking at the interlocking snake laid out in the tiles.
"I prefer Hazel Sophia Frost, thank you. I haven't been a boy for almost ten years," the blonde-haired girl said without a trace of worry.
A girl with a upturned nose and stocky build looked confused. "Er, right. So Harry Potter is now Hazel Frost. Going to have to call you the Girl-That-Lived, I guess."
"I'm Violette Nowak. I'm Miss Frost's Maid in Waiting," Vi said cheekily as she waved gauntleted right hand.
The stocky girl blinked. "Millicent Bullistrode."
"So we get the Girl-That-Lived as a dorm mate. This should be quite different. Poor Draco, to miss his place as your best friend," a fairly plain looking girl said with a giggle. Her hair was a dish-water brown but she had a set of startling blue eyes. "I'm Tracey Davis." She flinched as Pansy glared at her.
"And I am Daphne Greengrass," the last, dark-haired girl said. Her almost black eyes were taking in the silky black robes that Hazel was wearing. "Your trunk is at the last bed. I'm not sure where your 'maid' is supposed to sleep." She did not seem to think much of that concept.
"Do you know how to undo that spell that 'Deputy Headmistress McGonnagal' did to my poor robes?" the scion of the Frost line asked.
The girls all shared an uncomfortable glance. Daphne spoked up first with, "It probably will wear off. I doubt she would bother working a permanent transfiguration. In fact, doesn't it look a little faded out already?"
Vi nodded. "Yeah, it's more of a charcoal gray now."