Disclaimer: The universe this story is based on belongs to J.K. Rowling. I don't own the concepts or many of the characters within.
A/N: As the summary says, this story takes place twenty years after the fall of Voldemort. The three main characters are my own creation, but many characters from the books will be in here as well. The story starts a little slowly, but it will pick up pace- murder, dueling, house rivalries, and all.
Chapter One: The Letter and a Visitor
Cassie Black awoke with no special powers whatsoever. She was slightly talented in arts and crafts, and read too much for her own good, or so her cousin Paula claimed— reading, the thirteen-year-old said, made boys less likely to date you. Cassie, only eleven, really had no reason to question Paula, though she didn't much care for the idea of dating.
On this particular morning, the birds were chirping loudly outside of her window— it sounded more like screaming to Cassie, and she crinkled her nose. She had woken up earlier that morning to jerk the blinds halfway down, but she hadn't closed the window. Burying her face in her pillow did no good. She hated birds. She opened her eyes to glare at the offenders through a messy curtain of black hair, and an owl swooped by. She rolled her newly opened eyes. Owls were supposed to be nocturnal, weren't they?
With a groan, she sat up and climbed out of bed. Her cousins were up and downstairs, by the sound of it; she padded downstairs as well. Ten o'clock in the morning was a respectable time for breakfast in June; school was out and there was no way that Cassie would see the other side of nine am. She liked sleep as much as she hated the birds that roused her from it.
Paula stood by the table, pouring milk into her little brother's bowl, trying to make it look like a glamorous thing to do and not failing all together. Billy sat at the table looking bored while Georgie gurgled and reached for his milk. Cassie took her usual chair and reached for the Wheetabix, wishing her aunt bought better cereal.
Paula shook her head at Cassie's disheveled appearance. "You know you'll be starting school with me in the fall. You should really look into personal grooming."
Cassie took a bite of her Wheetabix. Thirteen was a bad age.
Paula rolled her eyes at her cousin's lack of care. "You have mail, Cass."
And that was how the morning that changed Cassie Black's life began.
Cassie jumped up from her chair, grabbed for the stack of mail on the counter, her sluggish apathy gone. Most of the letters were addressed to her uncle, one for her aunt, and a postcard for Paula— Cassie shoved it her way and continued rifling. And there it was. The letter for her. It looked rather like the one for her aunt, but Cassie didn't quibble. Eleven-year-olds rarely got mail. Cassie sat back down again, biting her lip.
The envelope looked old and felt more like thin leather than regular old paper. It was addressed to Miss C. Black, and it had her full address on it, including which bedroom she lived in. It boggled the mind. She opened it eagerly, careful not to tear the parchment.
Cassie's mouth fell open as she read the letterhead. It said "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry", in the fanciest writing Cassie had ever seen. No one at the table noticed, and Cassie sunk a little deeper in her chair, dark brown eyes fixed on the sloping script. The headmistress of the school, apparently, was Minerva McGonnagal, who was in or had something called an Order of Merlin, first class. And beneath that… Cassie gasped.
Dear Ms. Black,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st.
Yours sincerely,
Aurelius Breckerly,
Deputy Headmaster
The list enclosed called for things like a cauldron (pewter, size four) and books like Standard Book of Spells, grade one. The oddest thing on it, Cassie guessed, was the text Goblins, Goons, and Werewolves: Medieval Wizarding History, by someone called Worfric Weasley.
"What are you gaping at?" Billy asked, breaking Cassie from her awestruck stare.
Cassie blinked a few times. "I… I think it's an invitation to a school camp or something," she said. Paula had her hand out immediately and Cassie reluctantly handed it over.
Paula looked puzzled but before she could say anything, Aunt Henrietta swept into the room. "Morning, kids. How are you all today?"
"Cass has got a weird letter, Mum," Billy said, and Paula immediately passed her mother the letter.
Aunt Henrie studied it. A flicker of confusion, maybe worry, passed over her face, but then she chuckled. "Interesting. A summer camp, perhaps? No, it says September. Maybe its an after school thing?" She gave the letter back to Cassie. "How odd."
But a few minutes later, after going through her own mail and opening the letter that looked like Cassie's, Aunt Henrie grabbed Cassie's letter from her. "Oh my, oh my…"
"What is it, Mum?" Paula asked.
Just then the doorbell rang. Aunt Henrie looked bleakly at the living room. "Alright, boys, Paula, head upstairs. Cassie and I have a visitor, I suppose."
The children went up and Aunt Henrie smiled at Cassie. "This is very strange, dear. You're sure you've never heard of this Hogwarts place before?"
Before Cassie could answer, the doorbell rang again, and Aunt Henrie ran off to get it. Cassie followed, wishing she could get a look at the letter Henrie was still clutching.
Aunt Henrie opened the door quickly and after a moment of silence, invited the visitor inside. The woman who entered was possibly the strangest looking woman Cassie had ever seen. Her hair was bright red and fell in curls around her face. Freckles dotted her long, straight nose, and her eyes were cornflower blue. She looked to be around Aunt Henrie's age, thirty-six, but she was slimmer than Aunt Henrie. Her dress, quite respectable in cut, was a bright purple; her hat had a huge feather on it. Cassie was sure at once that she had something to do with the "wizard school" and that she was definitely not Minerva McGonagall. No one in that "Order of Merlin" would wear feathers.
"Do come in," Aunt Henrie said, and showed the guest to the living room. Cassie followed, more confused than ever. The visitor murmured about how lovely their home was, and once or twice exclaimed at the quaintness of this or that, though how a television set was "quaint" Cassie didn't know.
Once they were all seated, the redhead smiled at Henrie and said, "You must be Mrs. Berquist." Her voice was warm, rolling over Cassie like cream or honey. Aunt Henrie's shoulders relaxed at the sound of it and when she spoke, her voice had lost its tense edge.
"Yes, I am. This is Cassie, and you must be…"
"Professor Livia Malkin." She smiled at both of them, shook their hands firmly. "I teach Charms at Hogwarts. I must say, I am so glad that it was I who was chosen for this little visit. It makes my summers far more enjoyable."
Aunt Henrie smiled politely, but the edges of her lips seemed caught by nervousness and refused to move up all the way. "The letter said you would explain…"
"Yes." Ms. Malkin smiled, looked at Cassie. "You, dear, are a witch."
Aunt Henrie still had that nervous smile plastered on her face, but Cassie felt no such compunction to be polite. "You must be joking," she said immediately. "A witch? Witches don't exist."
Ms. Malkin— Cassie couldn't think of her as a professor because she was obviously crazy— smiled and didn't look at all offended. "Oh, Cassie, you have no idea how many times I've heard that."
"Maybe you should start listening."
"Cassie!" Aunt Henrie said sharply and Cassie rolled her eyes. Apparently, one had to be polite to a guest, even if said guest was insane. "Professor, the letter that I received—"
"A standard letter to our Muggle-born students' families." At the blank look they both gave her, Ms. Malkin laughed. "Oh, yes, well, I should explain. Muggles are what we witches and wizards call unmagical folk. Like you, Mrs. Berquist."
"But not me?" Cassie asked skeptically.
"No, Cassie. As I said, you are a witch."
"Prove it."
"Cassie!" Aunt Henrie said again. "You must forgive her, this is a little… well, crazy?" She laughed politely.
Something in that letter must have bewitched— Cassie mentally rolled her eyes at her own thought— her aunt, because Henrietta Berquist, chemistry teacher, would never sit on the couch with a stranger dressed in purple feathers and discuss her niece becoming a witch.
"I want you to prove it," Cassie said again, raising her chin defiantly.
Ms. Malkin grinned and said, "Oh-ho. A bold one. You'll be sorted into Gryffindor, perhaps. That was my House."
Cassie only understood the first half of that.
Ms. Malkin smiled indulgently. "Proof, my dear. I can provide you with that. But only faith can lead to true belief. After all, faith is the substance of what you hope for, and the firm belief of what you can't see," she said, as though quoting. Cassie wondered if it was from Goblins, Goons, and Werewolves, but somehow she didn't think so. "However, magic you can see."
From her pocket, Ms. Malkin drew a wand. As the coffee table rose from the floor to the ceiling and then turned into a dog, Cassie didn't doubt any more. She sucked in a deep breath and blinked rapidly.
"Term begins September 1st. Shall we reserve your place?"
All Cassie could do was nod dumbly, her aunt beside her doing the same.
Note: "Faith is the substance of what you hope for, and the firm belief of what you can't see." Dante's Paradiso, Canto XXIV, ln. 64-66, paraphrased from Hebrews.