Author's Note: Now that more characters are going to be introduced, I just want to say a big thank you to EmodinosaurX3 for Noelle, Millie, Nevaeh and Liam. :D I love them and can't wait to introduce them. Anyway, hope the chapter is alright. ^^ Also I made a cover for the story, trying to upload it onto here. Thank goodness for wood textures on Photoshop is all I'm saying, made drawing a whole lot easier. xD

Harry Potter fanfiction

MADHEADS ARE FROM MERCURY

CHAPTER ONE

DESDEMONA

I don't know how long we stay like this; me in Mum's arms as she sobs, Tobias caved into his armchair wide-eyed, Dad watching us and cradling his hands to his heart. Time just seems to stop. I want to cry, to scream, to throw up all at the same time. I had my suspicions, two dark-eyed parents with a grey-eyed daughter, a lack of direct resemblance between my brother and I but nothing was ever confirmed. There were family members with similar eyes, similar complexions, similar colouring to me. I just thought of them whenever I wondered and smiled. But I can't think of them now. I can't hide from the truth in my mum's embrace.

"So what is all this stuff then?" I ask so quietly I worry no one hears me. My mum seems to as she glances at Dad who shifts in his seat, clearing his throat.

"This is what we found you with. You were wrapped up in that cloak, just left in the leaves beside what we think were the remains of a fire. We found these bits and pieces in the ashes, they looked like photographs,"

Mum's voice is cracked and uneven as she speaks. "We managed to save one of them; we think it might be of your mother,"

"You're my mother," I whisper into her shoulder as I can feel her smiling softly. We glance at the photo of the woman swaying.

"She's beautiful just like you are,"

"She doesn't hold a candle to you," I squeeze my mum's middle. "No one does."

"Thank you, sweetheart," she kisses the top of my head, rubbing my back rhythmically. "We could never understand why someone would leave you out there, you were so wonderful."

"You should've seen your brother; he threw a tantrum every time we took you into a different room from him for a whole year. He never wanted to be apart from you," Dad chuckles.

"But I thankfully grew out of that,"

"Be nice Tobias," Mum seethes but I find myself smiling, the familiar humour lifting my spirits. I draw away from her, drying my tears on my palms and watching my family's faces light up at my smile.

"Why did you guys keep the cloak?"

It's Dad's time to do some explaining, his expression dropping ever so slightly. "Well, that's part of why we decided it was time to tell you. When we first found you, we weren't sure if we'd be allowed to keep you. We thought you were a muggle and the Ministry wasn't keen on the idea of a magical family adopting a non-magical child. So we brought them what we'd found you with to prove there were traces of magic on the moving photograph and the robe. But more importantly the Ministry found the robe is an old uniform, a Hogwarts uniform."

Dad pulls back the edge of the tattered robe, revealing a badge pinned into it. I can barely recognise the badge, blackened and tarnished with dirt. But the print in the centre shines through, forming the letter C.

"This person was a Quidditch Captain," Toby notes as he falls to his knees beside the table to inspect the badge more closely.

"Yes," Mum cups my cheek with her hand, blinking away her sadness. "And that's why we kept it, why we're giving it to you. We want you to know that we understand if you want to find your birth parents–"

"I don't," I shake my head, hair whipping against my cheek.

Why would I want to meet someone who abandoned a baby? Who didn't even give me to child services? Who instead left me out in the cold, not knowing if anyone would find me? I feel dirty and disgusting just knowing that I come from someone capable of doing that, if I met them I don't know what I'd do.

"Sweetheart, we won't be upset if you do. It's natural to want to know where you came from and we'll support you whatever you do. You don't have to say no to protect us–"

I feel trapped in this conversation. Her words are smothering me. I don't even want to think about where I came from let alone actively seek out my biological parents. I just want it to stop.

"I'm not. I have parents, I have a brother and I don't want or need anything else. I've got everything already, I'm happy with what I have."

I stand up, a tense grin tugging across my lips. The urge to throw up is skyrocketing. I want to do a runner, flee back up the stairs to where I was dancing and singing. Back to where none of this was happening.

"Desdemona," Mum extends the syllables in my name. That'd be where Toby picked up his annoying habit. I can tell she wants to pry my feelings out of me. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," my voice breaks. "Perfectly fine, I've just got to get packed for school."

I charge, scrambling upstairs without a second glance at my family. I know if I look I'll shrink back into Mum's arms. It's part of her mother telepathy. I scuttle into my room, narrowly avoiding a collision with my open door before collapsing onto my bed. The duvet hugs me, moulding to my shape like a cloud. I love my bed; all I need is my bed. Cheddar yowls, staring me down. Let me correct myself: all I need is my bed and Cheddar, my mindreading mongrel. Chuffed, he yawns and stretches his pudgy figure before sauntering over. He curls up next to my face and tickles my noses with tufts of orange fur.

"I am in an utterly pants situation," I whisper to him. He peels his bright eyes open, staring at me. "But I feel like I can't even cry, like it hasn't sunk in. How can I be adopted? How could someone abandon me?"

He starts to purr and nuzzles closer. I skim my fingers through his fuzz, tracing his tabby marks. Watching him vibrating, I narrow my eyes and cock my head. From this angle he looks like someone has electrocuted a mangy carrot, the ones are knocking on a bit and start sprouting little hairs. Jeez, that image is a bit weird even for me. Maybe I've got brain worms. All that adoption talk could just be a hallucination, a side effect. I did eat a manky lunch the other day, it tasted a bit wormy. I mean who puts pickles and chicken in a sarnie?

I could stay here all day, cuddled up with my cat who I've discovered he smells like a meadow after his bath yesterday. Mum had to don yellow gardening gloves and hold the wriggling blighter at arms' length just to get him into the bathroom. Getting him into the bath was too gruesome for me to discuss, the scars are too fresh. It all paid off though, now I just want to rub him on my face. I blame that one on the brain worms too.

"Please don't make out with the poor cat, that's a sight I don't want to see," I glance over Cheddar's head to see Toby leaning against my wardrobe. I'm starting to suspect he might be a ninja. Or the brain worms are making me deaf. "Don't get me wrong, I always hoped you crazy kids would get together."

"How do you keep doing that? Tell me your secrets, great ninja of the south,"

He crouches, tiptoeing over to me as his eyes shift. "I have skills beyond your wildest dreams. Remember Christmas at school last year? It was actually me that stole your pudding,"

What? That evil little sod! I will avenge my pudding.

"That pudding was the love of my life! It hurt so bad I swore revenge on he who stole it! I nearly made James cry! Sometimes at night I can still hear his screaming!"

"I know, it was bloody brilliant," he belts out a cackle, clinging to my bedpost for support. "James flinched every time you came near him for a good couple of months."

"Oh I remember that," I sigh with a smile. "What good times."

"So you know I didn't come up here to talk about you beating the snot out of James, right?"

He twists around my bedpost, sinking onto the end. Cheddar squeals, ears jetting back as he glares at the intruder ruining our special moment. Toby just hisses at him.

"Well as subtle as you are, yes I know," Cheddar scoots closer to my face, muffling me. "And stop being a twat before I suffocate on ginger fur."

"It's just so much fun upsetting the bugger," he pulls his legs onto the bed, folding them like Buddha, crisscross applesauce. How he can do that in his slim fit jeans? I'm stumped. "But I'll stop, I need you alive for this or I'll get such an earful from Mum."

"Is she pulling the strings here then? Forced you up here to see if I'm okay?"

"No, she didn't. I'm here because I want to be," it's a little eerie when Toby actually acts like a big brother; he usually exchanges care and worry for teasing me. "Are you okay?"

I half-smile. "Don't I look okay?"

"Lying on your bed with a fat tabby in your face? Yep, you look just tickety-boo," he stretches out his hand, unravelling his fingers to reveal the ragged badge in his palm. "Why don't you want to find your parents?"

I just stare at the shiny C, voice now a whisper. "Because they aren't my parents, they aren't even people. What kind of person leaves a baby out in the cold? They didn't know if I'd survive, if anyone would find me. I don't want those sorts in my life,"

"That doesn't matter now, someone did find you. You have a family that loves you and a brother who I've heard is not only hilarious and dashing but also terribly wise," he straightens up, adjusting an imaginary bowtie at the collar of his button-down shirt. Tosser. "And those people don't have to be in your life. You choose if they are or not. But you'll regret it if you don't take this chance to at least find out who they are."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you don't know how you'll feel about this in the future. Even if you don't want to meet them, what if you need them for your medical or magical history? They don't have to be in your life, it's your choice if they are or not. But this is your only opportunity. One of them went to our school; he or she was a Quidditch Captain. We can find them. You'll kick yourself if you don't do this now,"

Since when is he so smart? Are my brain worms contagious? This is very unsettling; it's like seeing a professor out of school and wondering if you've fallen into another dimension.

I sigh. "Why can't you be a numpty all the time?"

"Because then you'd be the smart one and it'd be the end of the world," that's more like it, my normal arse of a brother is back. I stick my tongue out at him. "Careful or you'll get stuck like that."

"Then I'll be even more beautiful,"

"'Course, blokes love a girl with her tongue hanging out like a dog," he dangles his tongue out his mouth and crosses his eyes. He looks ridiculous. "It's irresistible."

I snort with laughter. My loud sniggers easily infects him–as well as startling Cheddar right off the bed–and his barking laugh echoes through my room. I try to speak through my giggles, probably sounding like my wheezing granddad.

"Okay, okay," I throw my hands up in surrender. "I'll do it; I'll look for my birth parents. You'd better be there if I don't like what I find though."

"Deal,"

King's Cross Station is impressive, a wonderful blend of modern and historical with extensions here and there, coffee shops buzzing with commuters and newspaper stands flooded with the latest headline. Then again none of that compares to platform 9¾, entered straight through the solid barrier between platforms nine and ten. And on days like this, the Hogwarts Express is stationed at the secret platform, the bright scarlet steam engine humming as students file onto it. It's like watching birds migrate away for the winter, into the great unknown but always knowing they'll come back home when spring comes.

But the only thing better than platform 9¾ is platform 7½ where the Occult Express departs from. Imagine the Orient Express meets top tier magic and you've got the Occult Express; a long-distance train to all the wizard-only villages in Europe. Dad's family travel on the Orient Express just about anywhere and I loved it when I was little–and unable to use any magic. But now that I can, I swear on Toby's life that I will ride the Occult Express one day.

"Hannah should be here by now," Dad interrupts my daydreaming as he checks his watch. We are standing in the middle of the platform, young witches and wizards flitting around us. "She did say to meet at ten thirty."

"Not everyone can be as punctual as you, dear," Mum teases, prodding him in the ribs playfully.

"They should be, it'd make life with you a lot easier," he frowns and pulls her into his arms, his tall figure easily overpowering her short one even in middle age.

"Don't we have a rule about public displays of affection?" Toby mutters, rubbing his temples as he averts his gaze from their snuggling.

"Yes but it only applies to children," Mum chimes.

"I feel nauseous," he groans and clutches his stomach. I have to mirror that vomit-related sentiment; I probably look like death warmed up.

"Then go find the Longbottoms," Dad mumbles, distracted as they dive in for a snog. I grab Toby's wrist and bolt before either of us upchuck everywhere.

Shouting over my shoulder, we disappear into the crowd. "That sounds like a great idea!"

I weave through the bodies shuffling to and from the Hogwarts Express, searching for the familiar face of Alice Nevaeh Longbottom; my lifelong best friend. I've known her since before I can remember, there are photos of us mucking around before we were even toddlers. Her mum, Hannah, is one of my Dad's school chums and they made sure to keep in contact. Her dad has a more complicated back story; Mum and he were both in Gryffindor at Hogwarts–but unfortunately, not in the same year–and he had a passing acquaintanceship with Dad. Nowadays he is my Herbology professor, Professor Neville Longbottom.

"Can you see Nevaeh?" I call back to Toby. "I need your superior height to look over this bloody crowd."

"That'd work if she wasn't so short; it's like a giant finding the tiniest needle in the tallest haystack,"

"That's a bit melodramatic; there's no way you are tall enough to be a giant,"

I tune out his defensive rambling as I catch sight of something. A short ballerina figure shrinking into the crowd, a polka-dot dress, ivory Mary-Jane flats. I crane my neck to get a better view. Soft makeup, big chocolate eyes staring at the ground shyly, platinum curls falling just below her ears: that's her. I'd recognise Nevaeh anywhere; it's one of my many skills. I jerk Toby with me and charge, waving my free hand as high as I can without pulling my arm right out the socket. Her eyes lift, catching sight of me flailing. She smiles, nudging the taller woman standing beside her and pointing.

Then, in fashion true to me, my feet collide with another set and I tumble to the floor. The cool stone meets my arms as I shield my face. What a great way to start the year, face plants really do make a good impression. I can hear footsteps rushing over to me as Toby cackles on the sidelines. Rolling onto my back and dusting the dirt from my sleeves, Nevaeh and her mother are leaning over to help me up. Taking their hands, I just burst into giggles.

"At least no one can say I don't make a lasting impression,"