A/N: I promise the story becomes more continuous and less episodic in the later chapters.
When the doorbell rang, Mr. Saibhir answered it to find a very stern looking older woman in emerald green robes standing on the doorstep. "Can I help you?" he asked warily. She was obviously a witch, but nobody had visited their house before. Could she be here to take his daughter away?
The woman nodded. "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. May I come in?"
"Hogwarts?" Mr. Saibhir repeated. "But my daughter isn't a witch."
"Our records say otherwise, Mr. Saibhir," Professor McGonagall said, giving him a small smile. "May I come in to speak with your family?"
Mr. Saibhir hesitated, but nodded, stepping aside. His wife appeared from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel and giving the professor a cautiously hopeful look.
"Daddy? What's going on?" a little girl with shorn hair half-poked her head around the corner, looking shyly at Professor McGonagall. Her visible eye widened when she saw who it was. "Are you a witch, ma'am?"
"I am," Professor McGonagall said. "And I'm here to offer you a place at my school." She produced a letter from inside her robes and approached the little girl, holding out the letter. When the girl slowly came fully into view, McGonagall's expression didn't change, and the girl seemed more fascinated by that than by the letter.
The girl stared up at her for a moment before she reached out a shaking hand and took the letter, gazing disbelievingly at her name written in green ink. Instead of opening the letter, though, she looked back up at McGonagall. "Are you sure this isn't a mistake?"
"Have you ever made things happen that you couldn't explain?" Professor McGonagall asked. "Perhaps when you were upset or frightened?"
The little girl slowly shook her head, but Mrs. Saibhir's eyes widened slightly. "That one night," she said, looking at her husband. "When the china cabinet shattered—we thought it was an accident, but…"
Professor McGonagall nodded and looked back at the little girl. "And before you ask: the school is fully aware of your condition, and we are more than able to make arrangements for you. There is a potion you can take in the week leading up to the full moon that will allow you to keep your mind when you transform—"
"A potion?" Mrs. Saibhir said urgently. "Why weren't we told about this before?"
"It's very difficult to make, and expensive," Professor McGonagall said. She cast an eye around the tiny house and sighed. It strongly reminded her of Professor Dumbledore telling her of his visit to young Mr. Lupin's house almost forty years before, and she sighed again. No child should have to go through that. She cleared her throat and said, "But the school will be able to provide you as much as you need while you are in attendance… if you would like to go?"
"Yes!" the little girl cried, and threw her arms around McGonagall's waist before she could react. "Yes, yes, I'd love to!"
McGonagall patted her on the back for a moment before gently disentangling herself. "Miss Saibhir, I'd like to speak to your parents about arrangements for registration and supplies. You are more than welcome to join us."
"I'll make some tea," Mrs. Saibhir said quickly as her daughter let out a whoop and hobbled into the living room as quickly as she could. "Professor, do you have any requests?"
"Earl Grey would be lovely," McGonagall said.
She could hardly believe it; she was going to school, and not just any school! A school of magic!
Her stomach churned nervously when she thought of how Caitlyn would be in her year, but she pushed it away. She was going to school, for the first time in her life. Sure, her parents had homeschooled her to this point, but now she was going to be with children of her own age! She could make new friends, explore a castle, learn magic… and she would be able to transform every full moon without the worry of how many bones she would break overnight, if she would even live to see the next morning…
To say she was excited would be an understatement indeed.
"Excuse me?"
The girl hesitantly peered over the top of her book to see an older Ravenclaw boy looking into her compartment.
"Hey there, firstie. Can I sit here?"
"S-sure," she whispered, ducking back behind the book to hide. The boy put his cat's basket on the seat beside him and then held out a hand. "My name's Henry Fairfield." He mock-pompously puffed up his chest. "Allow me to be the first to officially welcome you to Hogwarts." Henry grinned and waggled his fingers. "C'mon, not gonna return the shake?"
She peeked back over her book and slowly extended a hand to him. Henry grasped it, but the smile on his face slipped when he felt the thick ridges of scar tissue on the back of her hand. "Oh, Merlin, what happened to you?"
She snatched her hand away and tucked it back inside her sleeve, sliding lower in her seat to better hide behind her book.
But even that sanctuary was torn away when Henry grabbed the top of the book and forced it down; whatever he'd been about to say was lost when he jerked back involuntarily as he got a look at her face, covered with twisted, huge, disfiguring scars in the unmistakable shape of claw marks, that forced one eye half-shut and the corner of her mouth down in a permanent frown. "Y-your…"
She ducked her head, unable to bear the way he was staring at her, speechless.
There was a long silence in the compartment, broken only occasionally by her quiet, hiccuping sobs.
"I, uh, I think I'll go find another compartment, actually," Henry said at last, fumbling around until his fingers found his cat's basket. Face redder than a tomato, he snatched it up and disappeared out the door, robes whipping behind him.
She quickly shut the compartment door and locked it before huddling on her seat and hugging her good knee to her chest, dread settling into her stomach at the thought of how her future dorm mates would react.
When the train pulled into the station at Hogsmeade, she stood up and limped to the door, joining the crowd of students and keeping her head down so they wouldn't get a good look at her face.
Over the noise of chattering students, she heard a deep voice yell, "Firs' years this way!"
She looked up and saw an absolute giant of a man, carrying a lantern and waving at the crowd. "Firs' years!" he called again.
She began making her way over to him, but something hooked around her ankle and she tripped, sprawling on the ground. Caitlyn passed her, looking confident and poised and so put-together, with a small, smug smile on her face. "Oops," she said, making sure to step on her ex-friend's fingers as she left.
Her face burned in anger and humiliation, and she struggled to her feet, moving with the strange lurching, skipping motion she'd developed to move at a quicker pace. She had to catch up to the other students before she got left behind, she couldn't afford to—
Mercifully, the small crowd of students had stopped at the entrance to a dark path, huddled around the bearded man and looking up at him expectantly.
"Righ', I think that's everyone," the man said, his eyes crinkling in a smile when he saw the last few stragglers approaching. "Mind yer step! Firs' years, this way!"
If the other students found the muddy path difficult to navigate, it was downright treacherous for the little girl, and she began falling farther and farther behind. When she finally lost her footing and went sliding, Caitlyn and one of the girls beside her didn't even bother to muffle their laughter. The man stopped and looked back, frowning, and stomped through the crowd of students, who parted for him like the Red Sea.
"Yeh alrigh' there?" he asked, holding out a massive hand. The little girl stared at it for a moment, then hesitantly grasped it and he pulled her to her feet, attempting to brush the mud off the front of her robes and instead smearing it everywhere. "C'mon, wouldn't do fer yeh ter show up at Hogwarts lookin' like that," he said. "Up yeh get, now."
Before she could even protest, he'd picked her up and set her on his broad shoulders, one hand holding her in place and the other gripping his lantern. He stomped back to the front of the group and toward a bend in the path. "Yeh'll be able ter see Hogwarts in jus' a sec here…"
The girl gasped, her fingers tightening in the man's hair as the castle came into view. She stared up at it, breathless.
"It's so pretty," she whispered, and the man glanced up at her.
"Innit, though?" he said quietly to her. "Yer goin' ter love it here."
As the other students 'ooh'ed and 'ahhh'ed at the sight of the castle, the man took advantage of the distraction to say, "Professor McGonagall told me ter keep an eye on yeh. Said yeh might have trouble gettin' here. Me name's Hagrid, by the way."
The girl ducked her head, mumbling a response. She didn't know if Hagrid heard her or not, but his shoulders shook with laughter. "Don' worry about anythin', yeh hear? The teachers are goin' ter look out fer yeh, and that includes me." He raised his voice to the rest of the students. "Righ', there'll be time ter look later. Let's keep it moving!" He stumped off down the path to the edge of the water, where a small fleet of boats was waiting. "No more'n four to a boat!" he called, gently removing the girl from his shoulders and setting her in a boat. She gulped when Caitlyn joined her, and scooted away as far as she could. Caitlyn, however, scooted with her, and leaned in to whisper in her ear.
"Don't think just because we haven't seen each other in years means I've forgotten about you," she said. "I'm not allowed to tell anyone about your little secret, but I can certainly drop enough hints to let people guess. And if you think you can just come to Hogwarts and go ruining what are supposed to be the best years of my life, you're wrong." She pulled away and gave a very sweet smile as the boats began to move forward, then leaned over and whispered something to her two friends, who giggled.
As the boats reached the middle of the lake, Caitlyn and one of the other girls suddenly grabbed her and threw her overboard. Her scream was swallowed as she sank below the water, thrashing under the weight of her sodden robes. Thanking her lucky stars her parents had made sure she was still able to swim even with her bad leg, she managed to kick to the surface and cling to the side of the boat, where to her surprise, Caitlyn's friends reached over to pull her in.
"Everythin' alrigh' back there?" Hagrid yelled, peering in their direction.
"Someone fell in, but she's okay!" Caitlyn called back, barely-contained laughter in her voice.
Of course. They were just pretending to rescue her so they wouldn't get in trouble. She huddled against the side of the boat, shivering and doing her best not to make eye contact.
"Heads down!" Hagrid called as the boats reached the ivy-covered cliff. The boats glided silently into an underground harbor and the students climbed out, following Hagrid up a path to Hogwarts' lawn and to the massive oak front doors.
Hagrid knocked, and the door was opened by a young man with a round face. "Thanks, Hagrid," he said, smiling. "I'll take them from here."
Hagrid nodded and stepped past him, his footsteps echoing through the entrance hall long after he'd disappeared through a door.
The first years looked expectantly at the man, who directed his smile at them and motioned for them to follow him. He led them through the entrance hall and into a side chamber, where they shuffled together, looking around anxiously.
"Welcome to Hogwarts!" the man said from the front of the room. "I'm Professor Longbottom, Herbology teacher and Head of Gryffindor house. Before the start of term banquet can begin, you'll be sorted into your houses. The Sorting Ceremony is important because—are you okay?"
The students turned to look at the girl in the back, shivering and standing in the puddle of water dripping off her robes.
"Lie," Caitlyn muttered out of the corner of her mouth.
"I j-just fell in the l-lake on the way here," the girl stuttered, shrinking away from the other students' stares.
Professor Longbottom pulled out his wand and pointed it at her; she flinched, but he gave it a flick and her robes dried instantly. He put his wand away and continued speaking, but the girl barely heard what he was saying. She was too focused on the way students kept glancing at her, at her face, at the scars that marked her as so different.
Professor Longbottom left the room and the students burst into chatter, most of them worrying out loud how the Sorting would be conducted, but a few conversations stood out to the girl's ears.
"Merlin, did you see her face? It looks like she was mauled by a dog!"
"Do you think her parents did that to her?"
"Must be Muggleborn, there's no way the Healers would let someone leave looking that ugly."
"Well, I hope she's not in my house; imagine waking up to that every day."
She just hunched her shoulders and leaned against the wall, doing her best to stay out of everyone's way.
It was a relief when Professor Longbottom returned and led the students to the Great Hall. Her eyes widened when she saw the ceiling, the floating candles, the ghosts floating around the hall—she turned her head this way and that, trying to take in every detail. It was like Diagon Alley all over again, there was so much to see.
They stopped in front of the head table, staring at the stool before it. On top of the stool was perched an old, frayed hat. Silence fell over the hall when the hat began to move, and then it burst into song. She listened in amazement, more at the fact that there was a singing hat than anything else, but at the same time, her mouth had gone dry as she listened to the Hat describe the different houses.
The Hat finished its song and bowed, and the Hall burst into applause. Professor Longbottom unrolled a long piece of parchment, cleared his throat, and said, "Bennett, Adam!"
Her mind seemed to have gone numb. Hardworking? Ambitious and sly? Intelligent? Brave? Where was the house for the chronically terrified?
She was jolted out of her reverie when Professor Longbottom called her name, and, her hands shaking, she limped to the front of the Hall and sat down on the stool. The Sorting Hat fell over her eyes, and she gasped when she heard a voice in her head.
"Interesting," the Hat said. "I haven't seen one of you in decades."
One of what? She wondered wildly.
"Werewolf," the Hat said, and she flinched. "Don't worry, you're the only one who can hear me. Now… where should you go? You're certainly very bright; how much did you research when you found out the magical world was real?"
She shot a frightened glance towards the Ravenclaw table, where Caitlyn was sitting, watching her with narrowed eyes.
Please, put me anywhere, send me home, just don't put me in the same house as her, she begged.
The Sorting Hat paused, and she wondered what, exactly, entailed 'looking inside your head'.
"No," the Hat decided after a moment. "I think I know a better place for you. You came here despite the way the magical world has treated you in the past, and you refused to tell that man where to find your friend—"
She is not my friend! she thought fiercely, and the Hat chuckled.
"Maybe not now, but you were willing to do what you had to do to protect her. If that isn't showing bravery, I'll eat myself! Very well then—GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted to the rest of the Hall. The Gryffindor table burst into applause and Professor Longbottom pulled the Hat off her head, and she lurched her way to the table and collapsed in a seat.
The feast was magnificent, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to eat until she was full. Her stomach was aching by the time dessert came, but she couldn't help stuffing herself with as much food as she could. By the time the feast was over and a prefect came to show the first years to the Gryffindor common room, she felt like she might be sick from all the food she'd eaten.
It didn't exactly help matters, either, when they climbed staircase after staircase, and she was forced to abandon all pretense of normality and start going up the stairs on all fours like a dog, using her hands and good leg to push herself along at a quick enough pace to keep up with the others. It drew stares and several of the students whispered to each other, but she was more scared of getting left behind to sleep in the corridors.
They reached a portrait of a fat woman in a pink gown, and the prefect gave the password when prompted. Talking portraits didn't come as a surprise to her; there had been several in St. Mungo's, after all. She scrambled through the portrait hole after the others and relaxed slightly when she found herself in what had to be the coziest room imaginable. The prefect directed the girls and boys to their dorms, and she and her new housemates climbed the stairs. She pretended not to hear the other girls giggling at her as she went up on all fours again.
She found her trunk at the foot of one of the beds and sat down, glad that there were curtains around the four-posters that she could use to change in privacy. If they thought her face was ugly, she couldn't bear the thought of them seeing her bare arms… or back… or legs…
"So, what did happen to you?" Jessica demanded, sitting on her own bed. "Like, everyone's been wondering."
Her breath caught in her throat and she stammered for a moment before saying, "I was… my neighbor's pit bull…"
"Oh." Denise rolled her eyes at Jessica. "See? Nothing dramatic. I told you her parents didn't do it."
"She could be lying," Jessica said. "Are you lying?"
"No!" Her face was starting to turn red. "Stop asking me about it! Even if I was lying, I certainly wouldn't tell you!" She yanked her curtains shut around her as Jessica muttered, "Bitch."
Too embarrassed to show her face again to get her pyjamas from her trunk, she stayed huddled on her bed in her robes, hands over her ears so she wouldn't have to listen to her housemates' laughter.