brooklyn 99 AU - hogwarts stylez (all the gang will feature, don't worry!)
i have taken a few liberties with Amy's parents for the sake of the fic.
hoping to eventually chronicle all seven years. it's gonna be a long ride folks!
CHAPTER ONE
Amy woke up with a start at the light streaming into her window. Her attic bedroom always let the sunlight in early, but it never annoyed her. In her large and bustling house of seven older brothers, it was hard to get a little bit of quiet time to herself.
Not to mention today was her eleventh birthday.
She took a deep breath and rolled over, staring at her ceiling for a little bit, revelling in the peaceful quiet before her brothers shattered it into a million pieces. A glance at her bedside alarm clock told her it was 6:30am. Half an hour earlier than she usually was awake - she guessed that with it being her birthday, her parents were allowing her to sleep in. Her parents woke at 5am everyday.
Not one for dawdling, she threw her legs over the side and reached for her dressing gown, her bedroom slightly chilly on this early March morning. She padded downstairs, creeping past her brothers' room with a well-practised sneak before she landed in the kitchen.
As expected, her parents were waiting for her at the kitchen island.
Victor and Camila Santiago were loving parents, but well disciplined - they rose early and has strict morals, and expected each of their children to have the same. The only reason they hadn't gone door-to-door waking up their sons was because it was Amy's birthday. They sat at the kitchen island with steaming mugs of coffee in front of them, looking impossibly well pressed for this time in the morning with their matching two-piece pyjama sets.
"Happy birthday, mija," Camila said, her tone hushed to appreciate the quiet but full of love as she crossed the kitchen to sweep Amy into a hug. Her father was soon behind, ruffling her as he kissed her forehead.
"My babygirl is growing up so fast," he said, almost sounding a bit choked. Camila threw a smile at him as she walked around the island to the counter, where she casually flipped a pancake. Amy grinned as she sat down, eyeing the pile of presents on her right hand side. Her mum put a mug of tea down in front of her and grinned.
"Do you want to open them now, or after breakfast?"
She hadn't even managed to end the sentence before Amy was tugging the first present towards her, buzzing with anticipation and her grin widening even more. Camila laughed at her daughter's enthusiasm and switched the hob off for now, placing the cooked pancakes on a hot plate for later when her sons awoke.
Amy was thoroughly spoiled this year, with books and stationery coming out of her ears - she spent a full two minutes admiring the glass fountain pen and matching initialised stationery, including her own letterhead gift set. 'So you can send personalised thank you letters, mija' her mother had said with a kiss to the forehead. Soon, the wrapping paper had been cleared and the presents stacked into a neat pile based on size (the Santiago's were notorious for their order and organisation). They enjoyed their tea whilst helping Victor with the day's crossword, and Amy got an affection ruffle on the head and impressed look when she guessed the answer to twelve down, 'calcium'. Amy glowed under her parents' praise, revelling in the quiet time without the chaos that came with her brothers. The quiet was broken by a sharp tap to the door.
"Who would call at this early hour?" grumbled Victor, setting down his pen (a similar one to the pen Amy was just gifted) and rose to get the door. Amy shot a puzzled look to her mother, who looked at her equally as perplexed, the look growing when she could hear her father talking another man in low tones before clearly saying 'come on in, please.'
Her father re-entered the kitchen with another man, who Amy immediately thought of as powerful. He was tall, taller than her father. He held himself almost painful upright, and wore a strange cloak of deep purple. She couldn't help but notice her father was flitting between eyeing him warily and exchanging glances with his wife. The strange man, however, was looking directly at Amy with an expressionless face. He sat down opposite her at the kitchen island at Victor's invitation.
"Amy Santiago," he said, nodding at her. His voice was deep and held very little emotion, like his face. "Happy birthday."
Amy frowned. "How did you know it was my birthday?" she asked.
"I can get to that in a minute." He dipped a hand in his deep purple cloak and retrieved an envelope. It was thick, and clearly made of heavy parchment. Amy could make out green ink in neat cursive across the envelope, but couldn't make out the writing. "This is for you."
Indeed, it was her name and address on the envelope in the neat cursive. It was heavy in her hands, and she turned it over to see a large wax seal on the back that looked like a unicorn with a slogan in Latin underneath. The first word Amy read was 'draco' but her father spoke before she could read anymore, and her head shot up.
"I let you in when you said you had to speak to my family. Now, speak. What do you want with Amy?" he said, crossing over to stand behind her. She felt his hands rest on her shoulders, and the weight was reassuring.
"My name is Professor Raymond Holt," he said, his face remaining passive. "I am deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts School."
"Hogwarts? I haven't heard of it," Victor said dismissively, his tone annoyed.
"You will not have. We are not a ... normal school." Holt looked at Amy, his gaze piercing. "Amy. Have you ever made anything happen that you could not explain, no matter how hard you tried?"
Amy was taken aback. She had, but she had never told a soul. How did this man know that she was sure she was the one that, when she was six, had set Kyle in her class' backpack on fire when he got the whole class to call her Swotty Santiago? How did he know that she had once wished so hard to be home when she was in school that she had opened her eyes to find herself in her bedroom? (She had had to pretend she came in early that day, it had been a nightmare!) And that one time Tony had chased her down the stairs and she had tripped but instead of falling down the flight of stairs she'd found herself levitating horizontally down the stairs, her nose and toes both brushing the carpet?
"Don't be so silly," Victor said, clearly irritated. "She has always been a model child, perfect grades. I don't think - "
"Yes." Her voice was quiet but strong as she cut off her father, and all three adults stared at her. She felt her father's hands on the shoulder tighten slightly. "I have done things I can't explain. But I didn't tell anyone. Am I in trouble?" She tried hard to keep her voice neutral, but one of the things that terrified Amy the most was getting into trouble.
Holt shook his head. "Of course not, Amy. Quite the opposite, in fact. You are special. You have magical abilities that are very powerful indeed. The full name of my school is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And you, Amy Santiago, are a witch."
There was a full ten seconds of silence before anyone spoke.
"Now, there is no such thing - "
There was a loud gasp from the other side of the island. Victor stopped talking and all eyes turned to Camila. "Abuela," she breathed, her eyes on Holt, hands covering her mouth. "My abuela, she always said her family had magical abilities, powers. We never believed her, we ridiculed her, called them her fanciful stories." She choked down a sob.
"I doubt they were stories," Holt said. "Magic can skip many generations and emerge in the most unusual ways. And it has emerged in you, Amy." His gaze flipped back to her. "Hogwarts is free to attend, but is a boarding school. You attend September 1st until June 30th. You may return home only for the Christmas and Easter holidays. The school will help you understand your magic and learn how to control it. You will take classes in Charms, Potions, Astronomy. You will be amongst other children who have magical abilities. Make friends for life. Take your place in the wizarding community."
Amy took a deep breath. It felt like the world had started spinning a hundred miles per hour. For this man to come into her home - on her birthday, no less - and tell her that she was a witch? She was having a hard time wrapping her head around it all. But something, deep in her bones, beyond her head spinning was telling her this was right. She was special. She was different. She'd always known she was different the other children, and this was why. She was a witch.
"No-one else in my family is a witch," she whispered, thinking of her parents and brothers.
"No," Holt agreed. "You're what we call a muggle-born; a child born to non-magical parents. Muggle is the name we call non-magical people. It's not a discriminative term," he added. "Muggle-borns are unusual, but not uncommon."
Amy nodded in understanding. Her eyes fell onto the envelope she still held in her hands, unopened.
"Ah, yes," Holt said, his eyes following hers. "The letter is your official invitation to attend Hogwarts. It includes a list what you will need to bring with you to Hogwarts, should you choose to attend."
"What would happen if she doesn't?" Victor asked, rubbing her shoulders reassuringly. Amy felt a jolt of unease at his words.
"There is no law that says she must attend," Holt said, one eyebrow raising. "But you should know that if she does not learn how to control her magic, it won't go away. It was surface in painful ways. When she is sad, angry, afraid. She will not be able to control it. It will get worse with age." His voice was annoyingly neutral still.
"I think we could all do with some time to think about things." It was the first words Camila had spoken since her confession earlier.
"Of course," Holt said, rising from his seat. "I understand news of this nature can be overwhelming. I do hope you'll choose to attend Hogwarts, Amy. If you do, meet me in one week's time at 11am at 48 Charing Cross Road. I will personally escort you to Diagon Alley, where you will buy what you need from your list." He nodded at the still unopened envelope. "If you do not show at 11am, I will assume you no longer wish the place."
"I will show you out," Victor said, leaving his perch behind Amy to escort Holt from the room, who left with a bow of the head towards Amy. As the kitchen door softly closed behind Victor, Camila leapt out of her seat and slid into the one beside Amy.
"Oh, mija," she whispered, putting her arm around her shoulders and kissing her on the temple. Amy relaxed into the familiar affection. "I always knew you were special."
Amy giggled softly. "Do you think I should go, mamacita? I ... my head is spinning."
"No wonder!" Camila said, an element of excitement in her voice. "Let's open the letter and see what it says."
Amy flipped the envelope to the back, appreciating once again the heavy wax seal as she opened the envelope. Two heavy pieces of parchment were in the envelope, and picked up the first one and put the other one on the table.
It had a coloured crest at the top, with a Latin slogan underneath. She guessed this must be the school crest. Just as she started to read the letter, Victor came back into the kitchen, sliding into Holt's vacant seat wordlessly.
"Dear Amy Santiago, we are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl not later than 31st July. Yours sincerely, Raymond Holt, Deputy Headmaster."
"I assume this must be the shopping list," Camila said, picking up the other letter that lay on the kitchen island. "First-year students will require ..." She read aloud the shopping list, as Amy sat in bemusement of her mother saying words like 'wand', 'cauldron' and 'Magical Theory.' Although, the book titled 'A History of Magic' had piqued Amy's interest already.
Victor sighed from across the table. "This is madness!" he said, throwing his hands in the air. "We cannot be talking about sending off our eleven-year-old daughter to a school for magic!"
"Why not?!" Camila said, still holding the shopping list. "Our daughter has magical abilities, Victor. Didn't you hear what he said? About them never going away? Coming out in painful ways? Do you want that for Amy?"
"Of course not," he said hurriedly, crossing his arms. "Just ... this just seems like a story. How do we know this isn't some weirdo, come to abduct her? If magic does exist, how have we not heard about it all before now? His story doesn't add up. It's completely implausible."
"Daddy," Amy said softly, and Victor's gaze snapped his daughter, his eyes softening. She reached across the table and grasped his hand. "I think magic does exist. I have done things I can't explain, weird things when I'm angry or stressed or upset. And I want to go to school. I've never fitted in; I've always felt different than the others. I think this might be why."
"Mija," Victor said, emotion heavy in his voice as he held onto her hands. "You have always been so mature for your age."
"And when we go to meet Professor Holt at Charing Cross Road, you'll be with me, so nothing bad will happen to me. We can see for sure then if he is telling the truth."
"You seem to have it all figured out, Amy," Camila laughed from beside her. Victor's eyebrows were still knotted across the table.
"You really want to go to boarding school, Amy? Away from your family?"
Amy sighed. "That part isn't ideal," she said, and Camila couldn't help but smother a giggle at her daughter's grown up tone. "But I'm sure it'll be fine. And I'll be coming home for holidays anyway so -"
"It sounds to me, Amy," Victor interrupted, noting the use of 'I'll be' and 'when' rather than 'if' and 'I would' when his daughter spoke. "Like you've made up your mind."
Amy took a second then nodded slowly. "I can't explain it," she said, her voice quiet but sure, "but I just have a feeing like this is right. I can feel it in my bones."
Camila laughed. "Who are we to deny it if you feel it in your bones?"
"And you're both okay with it?" Amy gnawed on a hangnail as she looked for her parents' approval.
Camila stayed silent, but Victor sighed. "I wouldn't say I'm okay with it. I don't know any father who would be. But if it's what you want, mija, then your mother is right. We trust you to make your own decisions." Amy's face lit up. "And all you need to do is say the word and we'll come take you home."
"Yes yes Daddy I promise I promise!" Amy barely took a breath as she tore out of her seat and threw her arms around her father. Victor huffed out a laugh but returned her enthusiastic hug.
Above them, the peace was shattered by a door opening and a few heavy footfalls coming down the stairs. Her brothers were awake.
"Amy," Victor said, pulling back from her and his tone turning serious. "I think - until we figure all of this out - it's best if we don't mention it to the boys. In case it turns out this man is spinning tales."
Amy nodded solemnly. "I promise Dad, not a word. Our little secret." A small smile remained on her face
"Good girl," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'll hide the letters in our bedroom for now." He took the two letters and popped them back into the envelope, concealing them in his newspaper just in the nick of time as the kitchen door banged open and four of Amy's six brothers streamed into the kitchen.
"Couldn't wake up David and Tony," Luis said with a shrug as he sat down at the island, shoving Amy lightly. "Happy birthday, squirt!"
"You did presents without us?! Mean!" shouted Nick, prompting a shout from Alec too, and then chaos descended over the kitchen once again.
And no matter how much they taunted her throughout the day, Amy couldn't wipe the grin off her face.
It was 11th March, 10:45am and Amy and her parents were arriving onto Charing Cross Road. The Santiago's as a rule were always early, in fact - this was them running late. They had left their sons with various friends and thin excuses about wanting to spend the day with their daughter for her birthday.
"Which number did he say again?" Camila asked Amy, who was clutching onto her hand and bouncing in barely contained excitement.
"48," she answered immediately, pulling them down the street towards the bookstore that occupied number 48 Charing Cross Road.
"Can you buy these books at a normal bookstore?" Victor said, looking at the list he held in his hand. "Don't think I've ever seen 'A History of Magic' on the shelves."
"Oh, 'A History of Magic' is the book I'm most excited about," Amy raved, ignoring her father's question entirely. "Imagine all that history, contained inside one book? That's amazing! I can't wait to read it!"
"You'll have all the books read before you even get to school, mija," Camila said, amused at her daughter's overenthusiastic nature but not surprised.
"Of course, mama," Amy said, rolling her eyes. "I have so much to catch up on! I don't want to be the only one there who doesn't have a clue what's going on!"
"No matter what you do, your hard work ethic will see you through," Victor said, clapping Amy on the shoulder. He checked his watch just as a large man came into view.
"Santiago's," Holt said in greeting, wearing a navy blue cloak this time. He stood out on the busy London street, but no-one seemed to be giving him a second glance.
"Professor Holt," Victor said his voice twinging with disbelief as he nodded at the man. He nodded back.
"Come with me," he said, walking past the bookstore. Amy frowned. Beside the bookstore, as if by magic (heh) sat a small, shabby pub that was definitely not there two minutes ago. All of the Santiago's were stunned into disbelief. "This is the Leaky Cauldron," he said to Amy, "and now you know it is here, you'll be able to find it again. It's hidden to muggles. That's what we call non-magic people such as your parents."
He pushed open the door, and inside, it was just as shabby as outside. The lighting was dim, only a few rickety tables dotted here and there and - were the candles levitating?!
"Morning, Tom," Holt called out to the bartender, who called out a 'Morning, Ray' before he got back to work scrubbing the bar.
Holt confidently walked through the pub and the Santiago's followed, Victor keeping a tight arm around Amy's shoulders. They didn't seem to be sitting down, instead they appeared to be heading for a back exit, which landed them in a kind of alley behind the pub. Victor's eyebrows were tightly knotted by the time Holt came to rest in front of a brick wall. There was nothing in the alley except a couple of bins, and there was no way out.
"See here, Holt," he said, angry. "If you've wasted my family's time with this trick -"
Holt held up a hand, and Victor hushed immediately.
Holt reached inside his cloak, and pulled out a thin stick. A magic wand, Amy's mind supplied, and she felt a small thrill at the prospect of her taking one of her very own home today. He used the wand to tap some of the bricks in a sort of rhythm, before pulling it back into his cloak.
Before her eyes, the bricks started to shake and wobble, some were turning, some fell out and hit the floor. A hole appeared just above Amy's eye line, which got progressively wider and wider until a neat arch was before them. Amy stared, her grin a mile wide; Camila had her hands over her mouth and Victor's jaw was on the floor.
It's all real.
Before them, was a bustling street. Buildings that looked too lopsided to even be standing were on either side; most of the adults were in cloaks of various colours similar to Holt's; in one of the shops they were advertising what looked like a broom, and across the street a shop appeared to be selling owls.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Holt said, stepping through the arch into the busy street. The Santiago's followed. "This is one of our main shopping streets in the Wizarding World. There is a Law - the Statute of Secrecy - that means Muggles like yourself do not know about our world unless there is a need to. We coexist alongside you without every revealing our identity. There are many wizard-only areas. We should be able to get all of your things on your list here."
The next couple of hours passed way to quickly for Amy's liking, and - not be cliché - was entirely magical. They swapped their Muggle money for Wizard money at Gringotts and met goblins, who were possibly the ugliest things Amy had ever seen. After that they bought all of her books at a shop called Flourish and Blotts, where Amy would have happily spent the rest of her life. Then they moved over to Slugs and Jiggers Apothecary, where they bought a cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) and now she was in the queue to get her robes, which seemed to be the uniform.
There were a few people in the shop, a boy trying on some robes and an older girl that seemed to be finishing up getting measured. She stood in a queue behind a young boy with dark hair that appeared to be the same age. He turned around with a wide grin. "First year too?" he said, bouncing on his toes.
Amy nodded. "Yep," she said, not really wanting to say much more in case she came across silly for not knowing things about the magical world. She really wanted to read those books she just bought to brush up on common knowledge so she didn't appear completely out of the loop.
The boy gasped. "Me too!" he smiled so wide Amy thought his face might split in half. "Isn't everything wonderful? I've been waiting to go to Hogwarts for so long that I can't believe it's my turn!" Out of the corner of her eye, Amy could see a woman gesturing for the boy. "Oh, it's my turn for robes! See you on the train!" he waved cheerily at her before heading off.
A kindly woman with a round face gestured to Amy. "Up here, sweetie," she said in a broad Scottish accent, pointing at the stool. Amy stood on the stool like she'd the older girl do, and gasped as the tape measures seem to take the measurements themselves, whipping around her whilst the lady stood with her clipboard and wand.
"Muggle-born, dear?" she said, smiling at Amy's gasp. Amy nodded. "Welcome then, hen. You'll love Hogwarts, trust me. Now, because you're not sorted until you get to Hogwarts, your robes will just show the school crest, but that's charmed so it'll change to your new house when you arrive and get sorted," she said, holding out a set of robes for Amy to try on. After a couple of alterations, they were good to go. Holt had shrunk everything into a small trunk, so they woudn't get looks carting a cauldron back through London.
Amy made a mental note to ask Holt about the houses, but she immediately abandoned all thought when he announced they were nearly finished, with only one item left to get - her wand.
She skipped along excitedly to Ollivander's, which looked somewhat shabby from the outside. Holt entered first, the little bell above the door tinkling as Amy and her parents followed. It was very dusty inside, and Amy heard her mother sneezing behind her. It was half quaint, half derelict.
The man who greeted them was old, but the sparkle in his eyes told Amy he was sharp minded despite his age. He told them all about the different kinds of wands and their different cores, and how the wand chooses the wizard. He said she would have to try different wands, but she would know when the right one came along.
She tried the first one, but nothing really happened (a part of her wondered if she was holding it right, but he didn't seem to be correcting her). The second one made her hand feel like it was burning, so Ollivander ruled it out. The third shot sparks out of the back end that nearly set her jumper on fire, so that was a definite no. The fourth, however, made her fingers tingle in a very pleasant way. "It just feels like a piece of me," she said to Ollivander, who nodded in an almost smug fashion.
"A wand should feel like an extension of ones' own arm," he said, and Amy nodded; that's exactly what she felt. "Thirteen and three quarters inches," he continued, taking it off Amy and putting it into a box. "Hawthorne wood, unicorn hair core. Slightly springy flexibility, too. A good wand."
Amy couldn't help but glow for the thousandth time.
They paid up and headed outside, the air slightly chillier as the sun was beginning to set.
"I think that's us done," Holt said, appraising their list. Amy cleared her throat and the adults turned to look.
"On the list, it says I can have a pet. An owl, cat or toad," she recited, having memorised the list the day after her birthday. "Can I have a cat, please, Mama?" she begged, like she was six begging for an ice-cream.
Camila looked to Victor, who shrugged. "Might be nice to have something to keep her company up there," he said, and Amy's entire face lit up.
"Oh, come on then," she said, giving in easily. Amy squealed and ran towards the Magical Menagerie, and half an hour of intense decision making later, came out with a tiny black-and-white kitten in her arms she'd (creatively) named Oreo.
"Now, I do think our business is complete," Professor Holt said, handing Camila back the list. "I will not see you again, Amy, until you come to Hogwarts. You will arrive by train, depart King's Cross Station. Here is your ticket," he gave her what looked like a normal train ticket. "You will see the platform says nine and three quarters. That is not an error. There is a wall, between platforms nine and ten. Walk through the wall, and you will get to nine and three quarters. The train departs at 11am on the dot on 1st September. Don't be late or you will miss the train."
Somehow, they had ended up at the Leaky Cauldron.
"Until we meet again, Miss Santiago," Holt said, nodding at Amy.
"Professor Holt, thank you," Amy said, as her parents reiterated their grateful thanks.
"Oh - one last thing. I know is tempting to try magic out, but you are forbidden to do magic outside of Hogwarts until you are 18 years of age." Holt said, before striding back down Diagon Alley and disappearing into the crowd.
Amy's heart sank a little, until she remembered the vast amount of reading she had to get through. That put the wide grin back on her face instantly as her family crossed through the Leaky Cauldron and back into Muggle London, her world turned upside down.