Disclaimer: I do not have a functioning landing strategy or broomstick.
Harry Potter looked up from his book as a bushy-haired girl entered the room with a small yawn. "Morning."
"Wha-? Oh. Good morning..." She paused for a moment. "...mister Potter...?"
"It's just Harry."
"Harry. Right." She glanced at the clock. "You're up early."
"Habit I picked up travelling with my sister. Eyes pop open, six thirty sharp. Easier to net a private shower that way."
"Your sister? The books never said you had a sister..."
Harry quirked an eyebrow. "...You're that girl that was looking for a toad yesterday, weren't you?"
"Wha-oh. Yes. Hermione Granger."
"Yeah, the woman in my compartment? That was my big sister."
Hermione stared at him for a couple of seconds. "...Ruby Rose."
"Yep."
She looked at the clock, then back at him. "And... how does that work, exactly?"
"She found me on a doorstep, took me to an orphanage, then adopted me when she was old enough." Harry shrugged. "I mean, legally she's my mother, but given the age difference we're more siblings then anything."
"Oh. That makes sense." Hermione awkwardly fidgeted with her hair. "...and she's enrolled into Hogwarts because...?"
"She wasn't aware of the magical world up until a few months ago, but she does have magic. Professor McGonagal thinks Death Eaters intercepted her Hogwarts acceptance letter the first time it was sent." Harry grinned. "Personally, I think it's because she's an alien."
"Well, she's obviously not from the isles."
"No, I mean, she's not from Earth."
Hermione gave him an odd look. "...riiiiiiiiight. So. What are you reading?"
"Oh, just going over the magical theory textbook again."
"You've read the textbooks," she commented approvingly.
"Sis insisted. Safety, you know? I mean, I don't want to accidentally fireball anybody or something like that." He gave her a wry grin. "Now purposefully fireballing somebody, I might consider it."
Hermione made a face. "I would think it would be wrong to set anybody on fire for any reason."
"Like I said, I'd consider it before actually doing it."
"That's probably a good idea," said Fred Weasley (or maybe it was George), coming down the other set of stairs.
"There's a lot to consider when setting people ablaze," George added, although it might have been Fred.
"Do they deserve it?"
"Do they deserve something else?"
"Exactly how flammable is the individual?"
"Are you aiming for general immolation, or burning a specific portion?"
"How long do you want the period of incandescence to be?"
"How permanent do you want the damage?"
"What colour should you make the flame?"
"To smoke, or not to smoke?"
"And of course, the most crucial question-"
"-the fundamental one before any other-"
"-can you get away with it?" they finished, as one.
Hermione inched away from the pair of gingers. "Ah... well... that's... a very thorough set of questions that I hope never to have to ask." She cleared her throat. "So... breakfast isn't for another fifteen minutes. Would anyone like to join Harry and me in a last minute study session?"
"Actually, I'm just waiting for Ruby," Harry explained. "We usually have an early-morning workout, you see. Well, whenever we can, anyway..."
The bushy-haired girl gave him an odd look. "Um... does she know where the Gryffindor common room is?"
"We saw her heading up to the headmaster's last night," George confirmed, unless it was Fred of course.
"Gave her a wave as we headed in," Fred added, except that it was entirely possible that he was George.
"We really need to get you two nametags," Harry murmured to himself.
"Okay, even if she knows where the common room is, how is she going to get past the portrait on the door without the password?"
Harry held up his finger, considered the question for a moment, and shut his book. "Good point. I'll go check to see if she's waiting outside." He strode toward the exit... and then he paused. "So... stupid question, how do I get out?"
"What?"
"There's not a knob," he explained. "Do I just ask the portrait lady to-"
"You say the password," Hermione explained with exasperation. "Here, look- 'Pig Snout.'"
The door swung open, revealing an exasperated Ruby Rose glaring at the portrait. "See? I told you he was waiting for me."
"This is no time for children his age to be awake," grumbled the woman on the portrait.
"You're just put off that I woke you up."
"I am an animate image of oils and colour. Beauty sleep is essential for me!"
Ruby rolled her eyes. "You're getting far too much of it if you ask me," she griped.
"I-ah..." The woman in the portrait blinked. "That is... well-"
"Well now, there's a clever turn of phrase," said one of the twins, with an amused grin. "Right, brother mine?"
"Quite right, brother mine." The other twin gave Ruby a look. "We might have to keep an eye on this one."
"I hope you'll be looking at her actions and not acting on her looks," Harry quipped as he strode past them. "Hey sis, how long have you been waiting?"
"I spent the last twenty minutes trying to get a message through Morven here!"
"Oh, sorry. Still new to this whole magic thing..."
"No, it's alright." Ruby sighed. "I think it might be best if we meet in the Great Hall from now on, since some people apparently think their comfort is more important then a student's health and family."
The woman in the portrait scoffed at her glower. "I don't know what madness you have, but in my day it was considered reasonable to expect a full night's worth of sleep."
Ruby pointed out a window. "The sun is up."
"And are the majority of students awake?" the portrait replied.
Ruby opened her mouth, paused, and frowned. "Why am I arguing with a painting?"
"It's a certainly a novel experience," Harry agreed.
"Hmm. Well, I don't think I should be wasting any more time. I'll meet you downstairs."
"Don't you mean you'll walk him downstairs?" Hermione asked, as though correcting her grammar.
"He's old enough to walk himself," Ruby replied, pulling something out from underneath the red cloak she wore.
The twins leaned forward in interest. "What have you got there?" asked what was, most likely, Fred.
"Crescent Rose." The boxy red thing began to unfold. "She's been my baby girl longer then Harry's been my little brother."
George's eyes widened. At least, Harry thought it was George. "Is that a scythe?!"
Ruby clambered onto the landing railing. "It's also a high-impact sniper rifle!"
"A sniper rifle?!" Hermione shrieked. "Do you even have a license for that thing?!"
"Surprisingly, yes." Ruby looked back, gave a salute and a grin, and tilted down into the empty space of the grand staircase tower.
Three of the four Gryffindor students watching immediately rushed to the railing, gripping it and leaning over. Harry trotted over sedately, placing an elbow on the railing and leaning over.
Ratcheting clinks announced the descent of the red-headed woman, accompanied by the brazen hum of blade on stone every time Crescent Rose caught a stairway mid-motion. Ruby flowed as she fell, feet kicking off the sides of stairs; at one point she spiralled around a set for two whole revolutions. Down, up, left, right-every ch-chlink of her weapon sent her spinning a whole new direction, and yet she never seemed to lose control of her direction. Just before she hit the ground, Crescent Rose shot down and thrust her into one last somersault before digging deep into the brick floor.
She turned to a man clinging a pushbroom like a lifeline and flashed a bright grin. "Good morning!"
"Are you some... sort of angel of death then?"
"Only when I'm on duty!" Ruby chirped brightly, folding up Crescent Rose and storing her beneath the red cloak.
"Oh. Well..." The man's stance went from utterly terrified to extremly cautious. "Could you not shoot up the school? I have enough to clean up as is."
"Oh, right. Sorry. I'll keep the shooting to a minimum." Her eyes fell downward, and she knelt. "Oh, hello! You're a cute little kitty, aren't you? What's your name?"
The cat looked at her for a moment. She shared a glance with the broom-wielding human. Then she turned around and bolted.
"Missus Norris! Wait!" The man rushed after her.
Atop the stairs, Fred (most likely) gave a low whistle. "Well now I'm wondering why she's not in our house. I'd almost think she had auror training or something."
"I don't know Fred." Aha, that one was George! "She's skilled with that thing. And muggles have their own version of aurors, right?"
Hermione was hyperventilating, her hands clutching at her head. "Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god."
Harry cleared his throat. "You, ah... you alright there?"
She looked at him, wild-eyed. "This is the woman that raised you?!"
"Well, not alone, but for most of my life yeah-"
Hermione lunged at him, her hands moving to his shoulders so fast that some hairs were still tangled in them. "You don't do things like that, do you?! YOU WON'T THROW YOURSELF OFF THE STAIRS?!"
"No! No of course not!" Harry held up his hands. "I'm a perfectly sane and rational eleven-year-old, just like you!"
"Oh thank god. Good. Good, I-no, I, I can't even-" Hermione released him, trying to force herself to take deeper, slower breaths. "Okay. Okay. That was insane, and you are not. Okay."
"Hermione, relax." Harry patted her shoulder. "My landing strategy's only rated for two stories. I know my limits." He walked past her suddenly stock still body and started down the stairs... properly.
A small river of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins had begun to emerge from their common rooms by the time Harry and the others made it to the bottom of the stairs. A few odd looks were shot their way as they entered the great hall, seeing as they were the only four Gryiffindors in the hall at the moment, and those stares only increased as two of them headed not for their own table, but the already half-gathered crowd around the Hufflepuff table. Harry waved to his sister but, before he could say anything, his housemate had slammed her hands onto the table.
"ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANE?!" Hermione screeched.
Ruby blinked, looking at her for a moment or two. "...Well, there's a reaction I wasn't expecting."
"You weren't expecting-?! You just dropped down six stories using a, a, a shape-shifting red scythe sniper rifle thing and-"
"Wait, what?" The teenager sitting next to Ruby stared at her. "Did you really drop six flights?"
"I knew exactly what I was doing. It was perfectly safe."
"Cor. Can you teach me how to do that?"
"Well, Nym, you're welcome to join me and Harry in our morning warm-up-"
"YOU WERE SHOOTING BULLETS EVERYWHERE!" Hermione insisted.
Ruby rolled her eyes. "Okay, first of all, they were not bullets. Bullets are solid projectiles launched by chemical force. The cartridges I use have Dust capsules."
"Why would you use dirt as-?"
"And secondly, the only reason I do not have a degree in applied physics is because I can't be bothered to sit through the nonsense that most universities demand you need to earn one. I knew where every shot was going to hit half a second before I pulled the trigger, I can write out the equations going through my head as I controlled my descent-"
The bushy-haired girl slammed a roll of parchment on the table. "PROVE IT."
Ruby looked down, shrugged, and pulled a pen from her pocket. "Alright, but it'll take a few minutes."
Hermione blinked. "Wait. You're actually going to write this out?"
"You asked her to prove it," Ron pointed out, already having piled his plate with pastries. "I mean, I don't get why she's agreed to scribble out numbers-"
"You!" The already unusual gathering was interrupted by a blonde boy shoving the young witch aside and glaring at the other Gryffindor. "You said you weren't Harry Potter!"
Harry glanced from him to the annoyed Hermione. "Actually, I believe all I said was that I've never met Harry Potter. Rather difficult for me to do, you see-"
"Think you're funny, do you Potter?" The boy crossed his arms. "Trying to make me look like a fool?"
"...I think I'm missing my half of the script here," Harry hesitantly replied.
"Do you even know who I am?"
"Your name is Draco Malfoy, you were sorted into Slytherin, and apparently you're angry at me."
Draco scoffed. "Somehow I'm not surprised you're so ignorant. You're at the wrong table, for one thing."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, actually, I'm here to talk with my sister."
Draco blinked. "Wait, you mean that rumor about Rose Potter is actually true?"
"Actually, my name is Ruby Rose." Ruby glanced up briefly and gave a little wave before returning her attention to the parchment.
"...You're not nearly young enough to be his twin."
"Who ever said she was my twin?" Harry asked.
"You're kind of a legend, mate," Ron explained. "There's a lot of Harry Potter stories floating about. Like the one where you're You-Know-Who's secret love child, or the one where you were raised by Kneazles-the Rose Potter as a secret twin thing's been around since I was five, I think."
"Yeah, and that's not even the craziest one. There's this crazy Potter story I found in my mum's knicker drawer once with a girl called Raven Enoby something or other, and then there's the one I heard some Gryffindor talking about involving groinsaws... it gets pretty weird, Harry." The teenage girl shrugged, looking over Ruby's shoulder, and her eyes widened. "Uh, I don't think Hermione's going to be able to understand those equations."
"What makes you say that, Nym?"
"Ruby, I don't understand that, and I'm a seventh year."
Ruby paused, giving her an unnerved look. "It's really just basic human ballistics. I learned this in grade school. I mean, yeah, I was a prodigy, but this-"
Harry coughed into his fist.
She gave him a flat look. "Yeah, Harry, we're going to have to talk about that later. Table it for now, Nym."
"Wait a minute!" Draco pointed at her. "You were on the train too! You said Harry never introduced himself to you!"
"I know! It's so rude! I mean, I pretty much raised the boy and he's never once given me so much as a 'pleased to meet you!'"
Draco held up a finger, paused, opened his mouth, paused again, shut his mouth, and turned back to Harry. "As I was saying, your ignorance is unsurprising-especially in light of your apparent mentor. So I'm willing to forgive this one slight, and extend my offer of guidance to you once again."
"You mean you want to keep me from associating with the 'wrong sort'."
"Yes," the blonde replied, a faint note of surprise in his voice implying he hadn't thought such a thing had to be clarified.
"And... what exactly is the wrong sort?"
"The kind that would drag you down," Draco explained, with frustrated patience. "You know, werewolves, squibs, worthless people like that."
"Right... Okay. Hey sis?"
"Yeah Harry?"
"You done with those equations?"
"Just... about... there."
"Mind if I show them to Draco here?"
Ruby quirked a brow, but handed the parchment over to him. Harry looked over the numbers, nodded, and turned it around. "Draco, do you understand any of this?"
Draco looked at the near-arcane combination of symbols and numerals. "...Is that arithmancy?"
"Is it?"
"Arithmancy is a third year elective. I mean, I know enough to keep track of money, but-"
"Mmmhmm." Harry turned to Hermione, showing her the parchment. "How about you? Do you understand this?"
Hermione grabbed it, read it over, read it again, read it a third time. "...Oh my god, she actually wrote it all out."
"~Told you,~" Ruby singsonged.
"I mean I-I'm going to have to get a physics textbook to recheck some of this, I don't think I've encountered some of these equations, but-oh my god." Hermione looked from parchment to woman. "Who even are you?!"
"So," Harry said calmly, "this girl understands some of those numbers, and knows how to find out about the rest. Good knowledge base, ability to research, and trust me on this, those numbers lead to some pretty impressive skills. Now, I might be a little biased, having been raised by the woman who just wrote them out, but comparing that to somebody who just knows 'enough to get by'... Of course," he admitted brightly, "there's more to this world then math. I feel that everybody has a bit of worth."
Draco sneered. "So you're rejecting my offer."
"Mmm. Yeah. Sorry."
"You'll regret this, Potter!" the blonde boy declared, whirling around and storming off. "You'll learn your place, I will make sure of it!"
Ron rolled his eyes. "There goes a right ponce..."
"You might want to be careful," warned the teenage girl. "The Malfoys do have a lot of influence to throw around."
Harry shrugged. "Well, if they really want to waste time on one eleven-year-old I'll be very surprised. Do you mind if I eat here, by the way? It's just me and Ruby still need to do our warmup and it would be quicker if we got breakfast together..."
Their breakfast was both quick and filling-that, at least, could be accredited to the fine cooking of the kitchens. Ruby had helpfully introduced the teenager as Nymphadora "Don't-Call-Me-Nymphadora" Tonks, her roommate; Ron and Hermione had helpfully agreed to take their schedules out to them once they came round; and shortly thereafter Harry was out on the courtyard, pulling some basic stretches while Ruby looked their newcomer up and down carefully.
"Well, you do seem fit," she mused. "Better then average, I'd label you a seven out of ten... This is your last year, is it?"
Nymphadora rolled her eyes. "Nooooo, I snuck into the seventh year dorms so I could crib notes off their N.E.W.T.s. Of course it's my last year!"
"Why would newts take notes?" Harry asked.
"No, not that kind of newt. Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. They're advanced courses, you get them in seventh year-if you do well enough on your Ordinary Wizarding Levels in fifth, I mean."
Ruby frowned. "You aren't actually cribbing notes off of people, are you?"
"Of course not. I'm going to be an Auror, which means I need at least five N.E.W.T.s, which means I actually want to be able to pass so that when I get on the job I know what I'm doing."
"Alright, alright!" The woman held up a hand. "I'm still new to this whole magic thing, Nym, I didn't mean to imply you were being irresponsible."
"You wouldn't be the first," Nymphadora grumbled. "Honestly, Blair rambles on and on about how I should try to be 'respectable.' I care more about getting things done then what others think of me. Speaking of," she added, nodding toward Harry, "should I be doing all that?"
"In a bit. Right now I want to know what you want to know, so that I can know how to make sure you know what you need to know. You know?"
Nymphadora blinked, taking a couple of seconds to process what was just said. "I... yes. You can fall six stories without injuring yourself. I mean, there are ways to do that with magic, but you didn't know that, and if I ever get caught without a wand-"
"Best to be prepared. I can get behind that." Ruby cleared her throat. "There are many kinds of landing strategy, but they all center around one core principle: It's not the fall that kills you, it's the sudden stop at the end."
"What... exactly do you mean by that?"
Ruby patted her cheek gently. "Oh don't worry, I can teach you the same way I taught Harry."
Nymphadora batted her hand away. "Look, I get you're kind of motherly cause you're raising a kid and all, but I'm older. Don't pat me on the cheek like that."
"Okay." Ruby slapped her.
"AUGH!" Nymphadora rubbed her cheek. "What the bloody hell was that for?!"
"What do you mean?" Ruby asked innocently.
"You slapped me!"
"No, that was a high-intensity cheek-pat. You clearly didn't like the low-intensity version."
"That was a slap! It's not like patting a cheek at all!"
"Isn't it? I brought the palm of my hand in contact with your face. It's the exact same thing."
"No it isn't, slaps hurt!"
"Exactly."
Nymphadora blinked. "What?"
Ruby sighed. "What did I just say the core principle of landing strategies is?"
"It's not the fall that kills you, it's the sudden... stop..." Nymphadora groaned. "That was an object lesson, wasn't it."
"You got it in one go," Harry commented. "Took me three tries to understand."
"Being fair, you were six." Ruby nodded. "See, it doesn't matter how fast you're falling. What matters is how fast you stop falling. I mean, you ride the Hogwarts Express, right?"
Nymphadora shrugged. "Yeah."
"But you wouldn't want to get in front of it."
"Of course not, that would be crazy."
"But you don't mind being inside of it."
"Well, yeah, it's..." Nymphadora blinked. "Right. High speed-"
"Not high speed," Ruby corrected. "High acceleration. The speed of changing speed."
She pulled out Crescent Rose, unfolding the weapon in front of the startled witch. "When I hook onto something with my baby girl, it lets me control the direction of my motion-and, when I swing around, I bleed off excess speed before I hit the ground... or a wall, as the case may be. That's a pretty advanced landing technique, I'm thinking we'd start you off with rolling-letting the ground absorb your excess energy. But either way, you need to know how to control your momentum-how to gain it, how to lose it, and how to direct it. That, Nym, is the purpose of a proper landing strategy."
"Cause there's only so much damage a person can take, right?"
"Only so much they can take at one time. Getting to a place where you can heal is also pretty important." Ruby shrugged. "Come on, Harry's almost done with his stretches. I'll run you through yours, and then... we can get to the real work."
