Exordium: Freedom
"Sarah Scribe is now on her way to Hogwarts, but where's Harry and Ron? WARNINGS: DARK! Angst, suicidal ideation, suicide attempts, Transgender OC, and real views on Magic and the Wizarding World. Don't like don't read!"
Fourth Reading: Eight of Cups
8-8
The Eight of Cups indicates that you are disappointed enough to walk away from everything you have built up so far. It could indicate a disappointment in love or dissatisfaction with material success. It could also indicate that you have over-extended yourself to the point of emotional exhaustion. Even though you have already come so far, you feel that you can no longer go on and your only choice is to walk away from the situation. You feel disappointed with yourself but you know that this is the right thing to do before you completely burn out. You may also be feeling that you are giving too much and not getting nearly enough in exchange.
8-8
[A one-way ticket]
Happiness, sorrow, excitement, loss, promises being made, letters to be written. It's difficult to wade through the sea of people and their emotional farewells. Still, this is preferable to the idiocy I've suffered through these past days. I've not exchanged any words with most of the people I've known my whole life. What would be the point?
No, I'll not be rehashing that tragedy. Not now.
"I'll write to you, every day." I whisper into Papa's embrace. I'm not even certain he can hear me; not that it matters. He pushes me back slightly and kneels before me – it's the only way for him to comfortably come down to my height.
"Serenity Clementine Scribe." He says. "Learn your lessons well, but do not forget that you are there to grow as well. I look forward to seeing the lady that comes back to me." We share another hug – this one tearier than the last.
Fred and George help me with my trunk – they'd already stowed theirs, and Ginny's as well. So now, all that's left is boarding... I suppose. I do hug Mr and Mrs Weasley, but neither seems too surprised that I can't croak out a proper farewell.
One final chance... I turn to Mum, who seems quite busy with not noticing me. Fine. I won't offer her another.
I run to Papa again, hugging him more fiercely than ever before. He picks me up, making a show of hugging me and blowing raspberries in the nape of my neck. "All aboard." He whispers, kissing my brow one last time.
Boarding the train, I find Ginny waving me over to her. We squeeze ourselves through the crowd at the window just as the whistle blows. The doors slam shut just as I make eye contact with Papa. He's waving at me. Me. Not my siblings – who didn't even get on the same carriage as us. Not even Ginny – who I wouldn't have begrudged the attention. I blush and offer a teary smile, waving a little – I don't want to hit Ginny, after all.
The train starts pulling away. Papa is standing perfectly still, so I doubt he'll be running to keep up with us. I see pride and love shining in his eyes. He mouths that he loves me and blows one final kiss – I'm quick to do the same. It isn't a moment later that he's swallowed up in the crowd. I continue to wave anyway; half hoping he'll see me.
It isn't until we pull out of the station that Ginny tugs me toward wherever we'll spend the train ride.
8-8
[Missing persons?]
The compartment I find myself in is somewhere in the middle of the carriage. Luckily it's a private(ish) compartment, so once the door is closed I can almost pretend we're the only ones on the train. I'm not sure why that helps, but it does make me feel a good deal better. After all, all of my favourite people are here.
Ginny is already babbling on about something she's been meaning to babble on about. Fred and George are... well, I suppose they are planning their next big prank. Luna is trying to squeeze in her quirky questions whenever Ginny stops to breathe – who is really is quite excitable right now. The company is so good I barely take notice of the raven haired Carrie sitting by the window.
"Now that you mention it, I haven't seen either of them since passing through the barrier." Luna says. Suddenly everyone is worried. I shake my head, wondering what I'd missed this time. "Sarah, you haven't seen Harry or Ron, have you?"
I think back... no. Not really at least. The last I'd seen them was when Harry suddenly had to stop to tie his shoelaces in King's Cross. I believe Ron had slowed to not leave Harry behind. I shake my head and mumble an apology.
"They can't have been left behind!" Ginny declares, clearly distressed. I bite my lip and look away, trying not to bring too much attention to her missing Potter.
"Don't fret. I'm sure they're just on another carriage. We'll see them tonight." Carrie seems confident at least.
I go back to reading my booklet on the Tarot. It's not that I'm not worried; anything that affects Ginny affects me. I just know that there's nothing I can do about it. And that's besides the fact that even if they'd missed the train, then Papa, Mr and Mrs Weasley, well all the grownups on the platform would easily know what to do should they encounter the two wayward boys. A non-issue in other words.
"Sarah, my brother's missing!" Ginny must really be worried, if she's acting up toward me. I close my booklet and stow it away; mostly to show that she has my undivided attention.
"Ginny, should they have missed the train, what is the most logical thing to happen?" I ask. I look her in the eyes, showing how calm and assured I feel about the only logical answer to that question. "They'll run into your parents, or my parents, or Carrie's parents. Do you think it worth worrying when they couldn't be any safer?"
8-8
[Anything off the trolly?]
Hours trickle past. Ginny's already made a pass through the entire train to check for the wayward pair. She even returned with another – who'd introduced herself as Hermione Granger. No luck with Potter and what's-his-face though.
"Aaaaanything off the trolley?!" I hear from somewhere. Ms Granger seems excited at hearing that, though George and Fred seem a bit uneasy for some reason. I don't really bother with much of anything, not when there's a good book to read.
"A beginner's guide to Tarot? Are you into Tarot, Serenity?" Ms Granger asks. Everyone in our compartment looks a little uncomfortable now.
"I wonder how you would even know that name." I intone, not looking up from my reading. "I'd been introduced as Sarah." I'm partly truthful on the matter. She no doubt read it off my trunk, but I know it to read 'Serenity Scribe'. I'm more than a little curious as to who this Hermione Granger is.
She points wordlessly above my head, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Yes, she'd read my trunk. "Curious. That you'd know my familial name, yet not know my connection to the Tarot. You must be a muggle-born."
"A mudblood, pure and simple." A voice announces, loud enough for everyone in our compartment, the corridor and likely even several compartments over. I know this voice. All too well, I'm afraid. Without even looking up, I can feel the tension in the room skyrocket.
"Draco Malfoy. We meet again." I intone, half hoping he can pick up the irritation in my tone and goes away. From the surprised twitch I see from the corner of my eye, I'm guessing not.
"I-it's you." He stutters. Deciding to get this over with quickly, I once again close my book and gaze at him. Composing himself quickly, though not quickly enough, he decides to play the 'well-mannered' card. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I am Draco Lucius Malfoy, and you are...?"
"Uninterested." I say.
"..." He seems to be taking a moment, letting it germinate in his skull – he no doubt has the room. "..." Well said, young Malfoy. Well said.
"Aaaaanything off the trolley?!"
"..." Is he still not sure what is going on? He's kind of just... well, zoning out really.
Truthfully I'm not even sure if anything would help, but I'd rather not be staring at him all day. I snap my finger to wake him up. "Malfoy. Trolley. Pumpkin pasty. Go." And... he's gone. Wait... no, he's just dashed past up. A little too quickly – if he'd really gotten anything off the trolley, it's unlikely he'd taken the time to care what it was.
"So. Muggle-born?" I turn back to Ms Granger.
8-8
[Rather awkward, really]
More time trickles by. Ms Granger seems... intrigued at how easily I unnerved Malfoy. Unfortunately, that means she's been peppering me with questions at a rate that even annoyed Luna– jealousy perhaps? I've ignored her, but I can tell she's not in the least deterred.
If that isn't bad enough, there's been one solicitor after another coming to 'not' see what affected Malfoy so badly. One girl in particular stands out, though I cannot say why – she'd introduced herself as Pansy Parkinson? She'd taken one look at my trunk and smiled about some private joke, before leaving without another word.
Seeing another movement from the corner of my eye, I look up. I'm already quite irritated, being unused to so many trying to speak with me so often. So, when I find myself looking out the window... and therefore out of the train... I start to wonder if I'm not more tired than I'd previously thought.
"..." I could have sworn I saw something light blue pass through my field of vision. But... it came from the right, towards the window. The door's on the left...
Looking around, I notice nothing in view bears any resemblance to the shade of blue from whatever object caught my eye. I blink. "Sarah? Something the matter?" Ginny asks. I blink again, wondering what it is I just saw.
"I'm... not sure." I shake it off, going back to my booklet. I'd switched to Celtic Ritual Magics, which Papa had bought while we were in Godric's Hollow.
Not a moment later I hear the train's whistle going bananas! There is something out there! "What's going on?" Ms Granger asks. I don't have anything of value to say, so I mostly just keep my senses sharp. I can almost swear I hear... Ron? Is he shouting something about 'hold on'? I shake my head, trying to clear away the clutter. Oddly, I don't hear the voice a second time. I must have imagined it, or something.
Taking in those around me, I notice that the both boys present are sitting on either side of the door.
"Fred, right?" I turn to the Weasley twin next to me – they'd both been silent for a while so it's a bit harder to tell who's who. He raises an eyebrow, clearly wondering what his name has to do with anything (a 'George response' if I'd ever seen one). I shrug and lay my head in his lap, telling him to wake me when we get there. I do take a moment to tuck my skirt properly though – even though only girls might have half a chance, I'd still rather not flash anything intimate just now.
8-8
[New scenery]
"Firs'-years! First'-years over here!" I look over to my left, seeing a giant of a man waving a lantern... of sorts. At least, I think it's a lantern. It gives light, and it's not burning the hand holding it... but it's like nothing I've ever seen. I'm quite used to Papa using his wand for light, so... "Firs'-years! Don' be shy now!"
I turn to the twins, once again unsure which is which from all the hubbub of getting off the train. "It's just Hagrid. Go on now, we'll see you later." That sounds like the way George would say it, but Fred might as well if he were tired. I'm unsure which one it is, but I trust both enough to take that at face value.
Ginny is the first to stride over to the (more than a little intimidating) man with his lantern. I try to keep up, but I'm also quite busy trying to not notice all the odd looks I'm getting. I think even Carrie is getting a few zealous 'glances' of her own.
I cannot say for certain why Carrie's receiving all the attention; though I think she hides her dislike for it far better than I. In my case, it's the telltale Scribe characteristics. Straight, black hair. Rectangular 'reading' glasses. Elongated nose. And the angular features don't really help any – especially the jutting cheek bones and the sickly paleness of our skin. In all the family paintings at home, all of them look almost exactly alike. Even to me! And I've spent my whole life talking to them, and studying their features and personalities!
It matters not.
Though, I must admit to being more than happy to follow along down the shady path. Anything to be away from the prying eyes. So much so, that I don't even complain when Ginny tugs me into a boat at the end of the path. Nor do I complain about the inky darkness surrounding me. Nor the fact that Carrie and some... boy climb in behind us. Poor Luna is left to fend for herself.
I feel bad for Luna. She's almost as bad with new people as I.
Not ten minutes later, all the boats launch as one. I hear a few surprised shrieks here and there. Not from myself though; I just cling to Ginny as if my life depends on it. She is holding our lantern after all.
The fact that my eyes are suddenly wide as dinner plates is not as readily explained away.
Okay, Sarah... breathe. It's okay. It's okay. Ju-
"Whooooooooa." I drawl breathily. In the distance stands a castle, majestically lit up as if it wears the very stars. Yet it seems to stand proudly on its perch, reaching out for those very same stars. It's huge, and makes me feel very small. Insignificant even. I pray this isn't a taste of things to come...
8-8
[Welcome to Hogwarts]
Hagrid leads us up to the castle courtyard – though he calls it the 'lawn'. I can hear quite a few fellow first-years chatting excitedly among themselves, not the least of which are Ginny and Luna. Carrie seems composed, though even she is spellbound.
I just take it all in stride. Well, not exactly 'in stride'... more like I've already short circuited and want nothing more to get this over with.
Through a massive portcullis, through enormous doors, and into the castle we're led. With each passing moment, the feeling of smallness intensifies. Even the staircases somehow aid the feeling.
On the top stairs is a witch, gracefully awaiting us with one hand perched on the railing beside her. Her robes, a deep emerald with long sweeping sleeves, are immaculately clean and pressed to perfection. Even her crooked hat seems somehow neat and orderly, never mind its tilt to one side. The way she held her oval shaped glasses, or perhaps it was how she leered over them at us; she has the air of a lady that knows how things ought to be. And the tight smile shows that she has the spine to ensure it is done just so.
"Evenin', Professor McGonagall. Firs'-years." Hagrid says. He doesn't seem to be too chatty – or am I just not paying any attention?
"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take it from here." She says. Hagrid nods and walks up the final few stairs and into... well, whatever awaits beyond the doors he just slammed behind him.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarted yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." She explains. For some reason she glances at a few people here and there, though I cannot say why.
"I will return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." With that, she marches through the doors, careful to ease it closed behind her.
What happens when you as a group of preteens to wait quietly? They of course start excitedly babbling about something or other. I shake my head, not bothering to follow what any of them are even saying. Ginny and Luna are discussing the suspicious lack of a Potter and his Weasley sidekick though.
The door creaks open once again, revealing the same professor and her stern glare – no doubt she'd hoped we'd be the group to actually listen. "We're ready for you."
8-8
[Sorted out]
On entering the Great Hall, the first thing I notice is that I hate entering when being expected. Hundred of pairs of eyes leer our way as we march forward. Seriously, HUNDREDS! I try not to shy away, but I cannot say for certain if it's worked.
"Make a line up here." Professor McGonagall instructs, indicating just in front of the bottommost stair to near the rear of the room. Behind her I see important looking adults, all sitting and watching us intently. For some reason, I get the impression that they are looking to see if they can spot which house we'll belong to at a glance. "Now when I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."
It's almost comical that she uses instruction as a means to quiet a group. Almost, because I somehow doubt all first-years were even paying attention while she spoke. "Lucivera Avery." A prim and proper prat of a girl saunters up the three steps and sits. Obviously she expects the professor to place the hat on her head, though I cannot say if that was the point all along seeing as the hat was out of her reach.
"Slytherin!" Hmm, talking hat. Not that weird.
"Carus Black." The room goes silent. Yes, yes. Of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. I've been putting up with that hogwash for days already!
"Better be... Gryffindor!" That was a bit of a shock. I expected another Slytherin.
"Collin Creevey." Okay... boring...
"Luna Lovegood." She gets sorted into Ravenclaw. No surprise there.
More names, though not so many as I shouldn't be able to remember them all. I just can't bring myself to care. Until finally: "Serenity Scribe." Is the professor eyeing me a little closer now? Weird.
I walk up and sit on the stool with little reverence. Unfortunately that means I now face the ENTIRE SCHOOL. I keep my cool, outwardly, but on the inside I am falling apart.
"Hmm, what have we here?" Huh? Up until now the hat's mostly been making thinking noises and shouting houses. Why is it suddenly speaking? "Interesting. You're like no Scribe I've ever met before. You've got the smarts, no doubt there. Might make an interesting Ravenclaw. Peculiar though."
"What are you talking about?" I ask.
"You're the first switch of the house of Scribe, though not the first switch I've seen. Many never come out at all, choosing to hide it from the world." It continues. My head starts spinning from the implications. "No, the best place for you would be,"
"Gryffindor!" All colour drains from my face, not that anyone is likely to notice. Ginny and I exchange a look. She's excited for me; I'm a clip south of panicking. The hat is lifted from my head and I make my way to... ah, the red and gold spangled table... and back to Carrie. Oh joy.
Luckily Ginny was quick to join me at the Gryffindor table – I even shoved the boy beside me to make space for her.
8-8
[Perfect Percy]
After everyone had eaten their fill – and Potter and Ron finally show up, only to be escorted away by some tall and obviously irritable man – it's time to take the ten cent tour. Percy Weasley is happy to announce that we, the first-year Gryffindors, are to follow his lead.
"He's really hamming it up." Ginny points out, nodding toward her brother. I am inclined to agree. Percy's never been my favourite person.
"She doesn't talk much, does she." Carrie wonders aloud. I roll my eyes, teasing a giggle out of Ginny. Why waste words when a well timed eye-roll gets the desired effect?
I honestly can't tell if everyone was quite the rest of the way, or if I just tuned them all out. Either way, we eventually make our way up to the seventh floor... how these people manage to keep flapping their gums up seven flights of stairs...
"Password." I look up ahead and see this fat lady in a painting. She's wearing a gorgeous rose coloured Victorian dress that poofs out on all sides. Her hair seems to be braided across her brow, making it impossible to guess how long it really is.
"Wattlebird." Percy answers. The fat lady beckons us to enter with a wave of her hand, as her painting swings open. I hear some of the muggle-borns announce how cool they think all this is, but really I've not come across much that is entirely unfamiliar.
We all make our way through the corridor hidden behind the painting, with Percy taking the lead – wasn't there another Prefect with us? I haven't heard one peep out of her thus far... I think.
Once inside, I notice a warm and comfortable room. It feels... cosy. "Gather round here please. Come on! Alright. You should all remember the password, it's the only way to enter our common room. And don't tell it to anyone. If you've forgotten it, just come ask me." Yes, please ask Perfect Percy everything you need to know. "Now, the boys dormitories are up the stairs and to right. Girls, same and to the left. You'll find that your things have already been brought up." And Ginny storms past him, tugging me along.
8-8
[Roommates, oh joy]
Of course, seeing as everyone else had already been given a chance to claim a bunk, that means the first-years get to fight over what's left. Something Ginny seems to be all too aware of. So she's rushing me along to get the pick of the litter, so to speak. We find a room quick enough – third floor up, maybe that's why they call it Gryffindor TOWER! I hate stairs...
"Hi Hermione. Are these bunks taken?" Ginny asks, mostly to be polite. She's already tossed her hat on the nearest bed to claim it.
"Oh, uh... umm hi?" Ms Granger notices the hat and rolls her eyes. "Make yourself at home." She immediately goes back to her reading, though I can't help but wonder why she'd be the only one in this room... I mean, four large comfortable beds, and only one girl claims it?
"Come on, Sarah. Pick a bunk and come help me with my trunk." I'm instructed. I roll my eyes, but don't hide a smile. I take the bunk nearest to hers, and follow her without a word.
It takes little more than a minute to get both hers and my trunks into our new room. We set them down to the foot of our now claimed four-poster beds and set about unpacking. Well, sort of at least. I leave my clothes neatly folded in my trunk, but I take out my booklets and stack them neatly in the dresser next to my bed. My wand is place atop my dresser.
"Aren't you going to put away your clothes?" Ginny asks. "You can take that closet. Or we can share one, we both know we'll never need this much space." Ginny looks almost hopeful at sharing, I wonder wh-
Ohhhh, right. She'd been complaining for some time about the second hand robes, and Papa had let me splurge a little with getting a few extra uniforms. "We can share." I say, picking the closet between our beds.
"Great!" She sounds overjoyed.
"Is that last bed taken?" Bullocks! I'd forgotten that there were four beds in this room. Ms Granger was already shaping up to be the perfect roommate for me and Ginny: quiet. So who do I see when I look towards the door?
"It is now. Do you need any help with your trunk?" Yes, Carus Black. Once again. I'm almost tempted to think she's stalking me.
"Yes, please." Well, she's been polite enough, I suppose. And at least she isn't technically a 'new face' anymore. Ginny runs off to help her, while I continue unpacking. Deciding to be helpful, I start unpacking Ginny's clothes as well – apparently she'd been holding off on unpacking hers as well. And judging from the state of some of her uniform, I'm not surprised. It's not that their dirty or tattered, they're just obviously second hand (if not third or fourth). She'll not be wearing those if I can help it, so I tuck back into her trunk where they'll be forgotten.
And just in time for Lady Black and her handmaiden to re-enter our humble abode. "So the two of you'll be sharing a closet? Lucky for me. I'd been worrying I wouldn't have enough closet space for my things." Oh joy.
8-8
End of Fourth Reading
8-8
A/N: So Sarah, Ginny, Herione and Carrie are sharing a room? How could that possibly go wrong?
Well, until next time, Darlings! R&R!