A/N. So close to Hogwarts! It is very interesting to write events in such a way as to keep them interesting and also move the plot along without just repeating J.K's amazing work. I hope I've made a good start of it.
As always, thank you for your feedback and your time, I hope you enjoy this one.
Chapter 36
June 30th
The only people Hermione would miss from her school were her teachers, and many of them were genuinely sorry to see their best pupil depart as well. Overall, however, Hermione's main feeling upon departing the building for the last time was overwhelming relief. She had enjoyed the end of term exams, and now she could spend a restful two months in peace before heading to a fresh start, - a slightly posh secondary school a good drive up the country, where no one would know about her, or the strange things that happened around her.
She hadn't had another outburst at school, nor had she managed to transport herself again, though not for lack of trying. She had begun to carry a small notebook with her, and had filled it with notes about her magical efforts; she had depressingly little to write down, but organizing her thoughts comforted her. Tidy notes made a strange power more familiar.
She had managed to move things around in her room on a few occasions, but never with any precision, and most of her attempts ended with a headache and no magic whatsoever. Hermione was determined however, and now that school was out for the summer she'd have time to dedicate to her new studies.
Her mother bought her a rare treat on the way home from her last day of primary school, (a sugar free frozen yogurt), and Hermione was in a very good mood. No more bullies, no more nasty notes, and all the books she could read; the sun was even making a rare appearance to shine down on the perfect summer day. She was going to start the new history book her dad had bought her as an end of term present and spend the rest of the afternoon reading on the sunny patio.
She had grabbed her book and a glass of (sugar free) lemonade, and was heading toward the back door when the doorbell rang. Hermione hung back curiously in the hallway as her mother answered the door, revealing the sight of tall, stern looking middle aged woman, dressed smartly in black slacks and a professional looking green blazer, her graying hair drawn up in a tight bun.
"Mrs. Jean Granger?"
The woman asked, and her mother nodded, asking how she could help her.
"My name is Minerva McGonagall, and I'm here as a representative of a very particular school called Hogwarts, which we believe would be of interest to your daughter. It is a very prestigious school, we admit very few new students per year, but your daughter's unique skills have drawn our attention."
Hermione's heartrate increased and she crept toward the door further, intensely interested. She knew that she'd always tested remarkably high, but she'd applied and been accepted at all the schools that she and her parents had deemed acceptable in the area. Her new school was for gifted students, and had a very good reputation.
Hermione expected her mother to turn the other woman away, but Mrs. Granger liked to explore all avenues of possibility, and she was immensely proud of Hermione's academic achievements. She invited the woman inside, and when they didn't send her away, Hermione trailed them into the sitting room curiously.
"I've never heard of Hogwarts, is it far from here?" She paused after asking, and gestured Hermione to take a seat next to her on the couch.
Hermione sat, and McGonagall offered her a slight smile, which Hermione returned shyly.
"It is located in Scotland, almost a full day of travel from here by train, which is how most of our students arrive. I should add that Hogwarts is, of course, a boarding school."
"Oh! That is quiet a distance, we hadn't wanted to her to be so far away, and out of the country too. How is it you came to be interested in her?"
McGonagall's tone made her seem almost reluctant as she answered.
"Ah, well, here I must ask you to suspend your disbelief for a few moments while I explain." She shifted on her seat and looked seriously at Hermione. "The truth is that Hogwarts is not at all like any of the other schools you'll have applied to, because Miss Granger is not like any of her classmates."
Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She'd always been different, but did this woman mean her academic level or her freak abilities? She glanced nervously at her mom; after all she had done to hide her outbursts, it seemed impossible that a stranger would be the one to give her away.
She calmed herself; it was probably her test scores, nothing more.
"By this I mean her rather special abilities."
"You mean her test scores?" Her mother asked, trailing Hermione's own thoughts.
"No, though those are remarkably high. I'm referring to her… Well, her magic, Mrs. Granger."
Hermione practically jumped in her seat, and threw her mom an apprehensive glance. She expected to see her looking angry at being pranked, or perhaps laughing at the joke, - but her mother wasn't angry, and she didn't look like she considered it a joke, either.
She was silent for a long moment, smoothing the thighs of her slacks with her hands repeatedly. She glanced at Hermione, and bit her lip in hesitation.
"Mom?" Hermione asked in a small voice. "You know?"
Her mom took a deep breath, as if stealing herself, and then looked back at McGonagall.
"There were… incidents when she was very little. My husband always thought that I had imagined them; said I was tired and perhaps suffering from postpartum, but… I knew I hadn't made them up. The year I took off from work after Hermione was born, there were a whole number of things that just weren't normal. When she was a toddler stuffed animals changed colors, food she hated vanished off the plate without a trace, I swear she was levitating her bouncy balls once when I entered the room once… But there hasn't been anything for years now! I thought perhaps I really had been crazy for a while, I haven't wanted to think about it."
McGonagall looked sympathetic, in her stern type of way. "It is always hard for the non-magic families of young witches and wizards. I have often felt that they should be informed prior to student age, but as the law now stands… Miss Granger, though your mother hasn't witnessed any magical outbursts, I daresay that you have had some rather strange experiences over the years?"
Hermione nodded, still gawking at her mother in awe. She'd known all along?
"I, - yes. I've made things move without touching them, usually when I was upset or angry. I was trying to run away from a boy in my class months ago, and ended up inside my classroom, even though I'd been outside a second before… Are you saying Hogwarts is a school for children like me?"
McGonagall looked impressed when Hermione mentioned her reappearing, and her mother looked flabbergasted.
"Hogwarts is the finest school of Witchcraft and Wizardry that there is, and every student learns the main subjects of magic from the age eleven through seventeen. I have your letter of admittance here."
She handed a heavy parchment envelope to Hermione, who opened it with trembling fingers. Dear Miss Hermione J. Granger, We are pleased to inform you… She read the entire thing in seconds, eyes lingering on the list of supplies required of first year students. Spell books, cauldrons, a magic wand… An entire world existed that Hermione had barely even scratched the surface of, there must be so much more to magic than she had ever dreamed; a whole society of magic people to which she could belong. Hermione had never belonged anywhere, and as she stared down at her letter, she knew she wanted to go to Hogwarts more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.
"Oh mum, please say I can go." She looked up pleadingly, and her mother managed a small smile through her obvious confusion and distress.
"I don't suppose we've much of a choice, dear. If it's been happening all these years, uncontrolled, than I don't suppose you can just stop." She suddenly looked very business-like, and turned back to McGonagall to ask "You said Hogwarts is the best there is? I won't send her to a second rate school, magic or not."
"I assure you it is the finest the wizarding world has to offer. Our current headmaster is none other than Albus Dumbledore, the best wizard of the age. The school itself was founded in 990 A.D, and has retained its reputation for its entire history. If you accept Hermione's enrolment, you will be able to purchase books about wizarding history when I escort you to Diagon Alley to buy supplies this evening (it's a wizarding shopping street in the heart of London)."
Hermione was bouncing eagerly in her seat, and her mother was nodding in acceptance when her father entered the sitting room, having arrived home from work unheard. He pulled up short at the sight of a stranger in the house, and then cheerily asked what he had missed.
Hermione groaned and McGonagall sighed, but Mrs. Granger only laughed, a slight edge of hysteria in her voice, and the whole conversation began again.
July 31st
Arya was awake before the sun had risen the morning of her eleventh birthday, watching a light rain falling outside the glass doors of the cottage, nursing a cup of sweetened tea and keeping her eyes glued to the sky. Sometime in the course of the morning an owl was going to come swooping down from the sky, carrying her long awaited Hogwarts letter, and Arya was going to be there to open it immediately.
She was still there when Sirius and Remus emerged from their rooms over an hour later, only looking away when Sirius swept her up in a hug and twirled her in a circle.
"Happy Birthday squirt!" He tousled her hair when her set her down, and she shoved him lightly in return, before turning back to her owl vigil. She barely tasted the delicious breakfast Remus placed in front of her, and she kept missing her mouth with her fork because her attention was fixed on the gray sky outside.
Remus and Sirius could still remember how excited they had been to get their letters (Remus especially, because he hadn't been sure that he would get one), so they left her to it, chatting with each other instead. Their conversation was rudely interrupted by an excited shrieking from Arya, sending the cat running across the room and causing both the men to jump in their seats. Remus mopped spilled tea out of his shirt with a napkin, and Sirius stood to open the sliding door for the handsome tawny owl that was flying toward them, clutching a large envelope in its talons.
Arya calmed down enough to apologies to Remus for making him spill his tea, and she managed to untie her letter from the owl's leg with only mild shaking. Arya Lily Potter-Black was written in deep green ink, but the rest of the address was conspicuously missing; if the secret keeper wrote it down then anyone reading it would be included in the enchantment. Apparently the owl had found her all the same.
Arya stared at her name for a moment, - she hadn't realized it would be hyphenated, but she supposed it made sense.
Her heart raced with excitement as she read through the letter; today was the day she'd get a wand of her very own, and it was just a month until she was off to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
They were meeting the Weasleys, Tonks, Neville and Hagrid in Diagon Alley in a few hours. The Weasleys needed to do their Hogwarts shopping for the twins and Ron, as did Neville, so they had planned a day of it over her birthday. They'd do all their shopping, and then Sirius was treating everyone to a birthday lunch at the Leaky Cauldron.
Sirius had to remind her that showering and getting dressed were necessary before they could leave, and she reluctantly stopped re-reading her letter to get ready for the day. She bounded out of her room half an hour later, dressed and ready to go, but with her wild red hair dripping wet and springing in every direction. Sirius rained her in again, making her sit still while he used a combination of spells and deft finger work to get her hair into a braid down her back. She had hair potions that helped keep it manageable, but Sirius still wondered how she was going to fair while at Hogwarts, especially since she'd never let him trim it more than a few inches.
Remus went ahead of them thru the floo, and Arya and Sirius followed close on his heels. Hagrid and Tonks were already there, sitting at the bar together over a pint despite the fact that it was barely ten in the morning.
Arya had grown accustomed to the kind of attention that she attracted in purely magical settings, but she still didn't like it. Whispers and stares were common, and she'd had her hand shaken on public outings too many times to count. The hand shaking made Sirius and Tonks nervous wrecks, but there was really no way to stop people from approaching her without causing a scene. Most of the regulars in the Leaky Cauldron had greeted her before, and she nodded and waved politely to the familiar faces as they waited for Tonks and Hagrid to finish their drinks.
Dedalus Diggle, whom she had met the first time on the very day of departing from the Dursley's, never missed a chance to wring her hand, and she sighed as she saw him approaching from the corner of her eye. He excitedly shook her whole arm, and seemed like the happiest man in the world when she greeted him by name and asked how he'd been since the last time she'd seen him. Two old women at the far table, drinking sherry and smoking pipes waved at her, and she grinned back; she'd met them a few times before and knew they were quite the characters.
In fact, the only face she didn't at least know to nod to was a man younger than Sirius who nervously approached after Diggle had departed after shaking her hand for a fifth time. Sirius turned away from the others and greeted the younger man, introducing him to Arya as Professor Quirrell, whom Sirius knew from his position as Hogwarts governor, and Hagrid waved to as well. He was pale and very nervous; Arya noticed that his left eye was actually twitching. Some people were nervous around her, but from the way that Sirius was treating him (like he expected the man to faint at any moment) Arya thought that perhaps he was always like that.
She smiled in what she hoped was a comforting way and shook his hand, which was pale, sweaty, and trembling, just like the rest of him. He stuttered when he spoke to her, but ventured a joke about her not needing to learn Defense against the Dark Arts, since she probably didn't need it. That was more confusing than it was funny, but she laughed politely as Hagrid explained that he was a new hire at Hogwarts.
Hagrid cut a swath through the crowd as they headed for the exit, leaving the pale young professor behind them; he hadn't been what she'd expected from a Hogwarts teacher, but she'd only known Dumbledore and Hagrid as examples. The staff was sure to be a varied mix of people.
They met the Weasley's and Longbottom's in front of the bank, where they had already withdrawn the money they'd need for the shopping. Arya greeted her friends happily, Ron and Neville grinning excitedly back, and Ginny hugging her warmly.
Hagrid exchanged a significant look with Sirius and then spoke. "Got to go pick up a package for Dumbledore; should jus' be a moment, official Hogwarts business, you know."
Hagrid puffed out his enormous chest in pride, but Sirius looked slightly exasperated.
"Oooh! Can I come with? I've never been down on the actual carts before!" Arya asked.
"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed. "I've been doing you a favor keeping you off those carts, they're awful."
Hagrid laughed and said he didn't mind if she tagged along, and Arya ran off after him before Sirius could object, because he looked like he might.
By the time they surfaced from the bowels of the giant bank, she almost wished she'd let him keep her back; the carts were rickety and old, the tunnels below the bank vast and deep. The ride had been exhilarating but also terrifying, and she was a bit confused as to why Dumbledore wanted a tiny package from one of the oldest, lowest vaults, number 713. Hagrid was being very mysterious, and it was clear that Sirius was in on it as well. Perhaps she'd just straight up ask Dumbledore the next time she met him.
Madame Malkin's Robes for all Occasions was their first stop, though Hagrid, green from the wild cart ride went back to the Leaky Cauldron for his second pint of the day. Neville turned out to already have his uniform, and the Weasley's opted for the second hand robe shop next door, so Arya ended up entering the shop with just Sirius.
Madame Malkin herself scooped her up, correctly guessing the reason for her visit and leading her off to take her measurements. When Arya saw the boy being fitted next to her, she automatically looked around the shop to make sure his father wasn't around, because Draco Malfoy's father gave her the heebie-jeebies. She had seen the boy around some of the fancier parties that Sirius had let her tag along for, though never at any of Slughorn's gatherings. They usually never had a chance to so much as nod to each other before Sirius swept her away from them.
"Oh, hello again." Was his lackluster greeting, as if they'd talked only the week before, instead of several years ago. "Decided what house you want to be in yet?"
Arya shrugged. "Not really. I know my dad would like me to be in Gryffindor, and Slughorn keeps trying to talk me into Slytherin. I'm honestly not fussed. You still determined to be in Slytherin?"
Draco smirked, but sounded at least slightly serious when he answered. "I think I'd be disowned if I landed anywhere else. Going to try for your house team this year? My father says it's a crime first years aren't allowed their own brooms, think I might smuggle mine in somehow…"
He had an annoying habit of asking a question and then continuing to talk. "It is annoying that we can't have our own brooms, but I imagine that first years from muggle families need the year of flying lessons to catch up. By second year the playing fields been equalized, so that's probably when I'll try out."
He sneered at the mention of muggleborns, and Arya was very glad when her measurements were done and she could hop down and head for the front of the shop again. Hagrid had appeared in the shop window, grinning and holding two very large ice creams. Draco trailed behind her to the front of the shop to pay for his items also, and looked like he was going to say something disparaging about Hagrid, so Arya cut him off by saying a hurried goodbye before he could get started. His air of spoiled superiority had only increased since their last meeting, and Arya was eager to shake him off. Being around him brought back unpleasant memories of her cousin, though they looked nothing alike.
Sirius paid for her robes, eyeing the blond haired boy warily, and Arya knew he was probably wondering where his parents were, just as she had.
They joined up with the rest of the group, Arya and Hagrid gorging themselves on ice cream, and the next hour or so passed in a flurry of shopping. Arya already had a cauldron and all her books, but there was plenty more supplies to get. The item she was most anxious to buy they saved for their last stop; Ollivander's wand shop. Ron had grown more and more subdued as they neared the shop, but as they were standing in front of the door, too large a crowd to go in, Molly steered him forward with Neville and Arya.
"What did you think we were saving that reward money for? Go on, get fitted for your own wand!"
Ron looked like Christmas had come early, as he'd been practicing with an old family wand since his birthday in the spring, and threw adolescent dignity out to window in order to hug his mum in public before rushing into the shop with Neville and Arya.
The very air of the shop felt old and full of magic, making the hairs on Arya's arms rise. Mr. Ollivander was a very old man, with large pale eyes that seemed to remember everything he'd ever seen. Arya thought she felt the light brush of an outside mind against her own, but it was gone as soon as it had come, lightly trailing over her impeccable shield and then vanishing without any attempt at breaking through.
Ron was fitted first, and ended up with a long willow wood wand, containing the hair of a unicorn. Arya tried not to bounce in excitement as Neville stepped forward and was fitted; his took almost fifteen minutes to select, which seemed to make Ollivander happy for some reason. A cherry wood wand with, again, unicorn hair was finally selected, and Arya practically ran forward to be fitted.
If Neville had taken a long time, Arya took an age. She felt as if every wand in the shop had rejected her by the time Ollivander seemed to have a stroke of inspiration. As with Neville, he had seemed to grow happier and happier the more wands that got discarded. He wandered amongst the rows of wands for what felt like the thousandth time, muttering happily under his breath to himself.
He returned and handed her a handsome holly and phoenix feather wand, a few inches shorter than Neville's or Ron's. The instant her hand closed around it, she knew the search was over; a feeling of overwhelming acceptance and warmth shot up her arm, and golden sparks shot out of the wand point.
Ron and Neville gave great whoops of joy (they were tired of waiting), and Ollivander began to mutter the word curious over and over. Arya was tempted to not ask him what he meant just to spite him, but her own curiosity got the better of her.
Learning that her wand shared a core with the wand Voldemort had used to kill her parents, not to mention countless other people, put a bit of a damper on her excitement. She looked down at the wand she hadn't let Ollivander tuck away into a box, and felt a bit conflicted. This wand was hers in a way that neither of her parents wands had ever felt like; she loved it. Its connection to Voldemort's wand felt like a dirty secret, and she was glad that Neville and Ron had been too busy talking to each other to overhear.
Sirius, Molly, and Augusta entered the shop and paid for the three wands, and everyone piled out into the street again.
Hagrid had disappeared, and when Arya asked, Sirius assured her that he'd meet up with them at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. He arrived just as they were sitting down in a private parlor, beaming and carrying a large cage containing a beautiful snowy owl.
"Happy Birthday, Arya!"
Arya gasped in amazement, and glanced at Sirius to make sure she could really have it; he was grinning in a way that told her he'd been in on it. She stammered her thanks to Hagrid, taking the cage into her arms and staring at the beautiful bird inside. It was looking at her with keenly intelligent yellow eyes, and Arya was smitten.
"I can't take both her and Mr. Kitty to Hogwarts, though…" She murmured to Sirius.
"Mr. Kitty's fat and happy at the cottage, I was thinking he might not like being at the school, full of students and other cats. Besides, I need someone to keep me company while you're gone!"
Arya grinned and nodded her agreement. The cat mostly enjoyed napping, usually on top of Sirius, and pulling him away from the cottage might not be the good for him.
"Does she have a name, Hagrid?" He shook his head, and Arya studied the owl, deep in thought. "How about Ceridwen?" She asked the owl softly, and the owl hooted a low melodic note in response. Arya smiled, - Ceridwen had been a welsh witch that was revered by some muggle religions as a goddess, and an enchantress in Welsh mythology, much as Merlin was a legend in muggle cultures and histories.
"My great uncle Algie got me a toad yesterday for my birthday!" Neville told her. "Didn't want to bring him along today though, he keeps running away all the time, it's hard to keep track of him."
Arya tried not to grin as she answered, Ceridwen sitting in her cage on the table next to her plate. "Well, did you get him a tank or cage or something?"
"Er, no. You think I should?"
Sometimes Arya was amazed at the things wizarding families didn't think of. So much incredible magic at their fingertips, but they didn't think to by a pet toad a tank to keep him from running away. Arya advised him to make a stop at the magical menagerie and ask the shopkeeper what supplies he'd need.
Hagrid ate quickly, consuming four times as much as any of the others, wished her a happy birthday one last time and then made for the door, explaining that Dumbledore would be waiting on him to deliver his package.
Dessert was almost over, and Ginny and Ron were competing to see who could eat the most pudding, when a nock sounded on their parlor door, and Tom the barman reluctantly admitted Mad-eye Moody to the room. Arya had met him a few times, but most of her friends had not; his rather frightening appearance stunned them into being quiet, and the room became eerily silent as he entered.
He barely acknowledged the greetings of the adults, and stumped over to Tonks, bending stiffly down to whisper something in her ear. Arya saw her friend blanch slightly before jumping up from the table to follow Moody out the door, turning around at the last minute to briefly explain that something had come up with work before rushing off again.
Sirius and Remus exchanged worried looks, and it was a slightly subdued group that parted from the Leaky Cauldron twenty minutes later. Nothing could quite dampen Arya's good mood however, and she and Sirius spent much of the afternoon playing with a muggle basketball from their broomsticks over the fields around the cottage.
Dinner was a sumptuous collection of all of her favorites, cooked by Remus and Kreature, and though Tonks had been intending to come over, it was rather late at night before she arrived through the floo. Arya had supposedly gone to bed already, after thanking everyone for the awesome day, Ceridwen riding along on her shoulder; in reality she was practicing magic in her room with her new wand. She was surprised by the difference in her spell work; everything was so much stronger than it had ever been before. A simple engorgio had made her pillow swell to ten times its normal size, and only a quick reversal had shrunk it in time to stop it from taking over her entire bed.
When she heard Tonks' clumsy floo entrance she carefully eased her door open, thankful that sound carried fairly well down the hallway so that she didn't have to creep out with her cloak on.
"Dora, what's going on?" Came Remus' voice, laden with concern for his partner.
"Gringotts has had a break in - there's no point trying to hide it, it'll be in all the papers tomorrow."
Arya heard Sirius whistle, and Remus immediately asked who had done it, as if taking it for granted that they'd been caught and arrested already.
"We don't know, that's what the big deal is about. They weren't caught, and nothing was even stolen. Someone broke in, successfully searched a vault, found it empty, and left without detection."
Remus swore under his breath, and it was Sirius who asked the burning question, sounding almost as if he suspected the answer.
"Which vault was searched, Dora?"
"Vault seven hundred and thirteen."
Arya felt her heartbeat increase, thumping loudly in her ears. They said nothing else useful on the subject, and Arya finally climbed into bed, mind racing far too much for sleep to come easily. Sometime between her visit to vault seven hundred and thirteen with Hagrid, and her birthday lunch, someone had broken into a bank that was supposed to be impenetrable, and escaped undetected. Hagrid had said the package was for Dumbledore…
Dumbledore, you crazy old man, what are you up to now? She thought, tucking her new wand next to her parent's on her bedside table, and rolling over in bed. Before she closed her eyes to sleep, she reached up and crossed off another day on her calendar, counting off the days until the Hogwarts express would depart from Kings Cross Station.
A/N. To clarify, Ceridwen is Hedwig. I just don't think Arya would choose the same name that Harry picked out of his textbook. If you want Ceridwen's mythology, it should be the first to pop up in a google search.