Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter' Universe, but what I do own is what you are about to see.

Genre Angst Fantasy Trauma Drama Fame

Warnings Trigger Warning. This story is not what you think. This story deals with realistic trauma, heavy cursing, and mental Illnesses such as anger issues, HOCD, and child behavioral issues. Proceed cautiously.

Author's Note This kind of Potter may surprise you. As will this story. This series will stray so far away from canon you'd hardly recognize the intended atmosphere of it. Because this story does not follow any canon character. But eventually, the characters will be connected later down the series. Even so be warned, I have no intentions of following the books. You can't write a story and add a drastic change to the original plot - say a whole character close to canon characters - and completely ignore the astronomical rules of the butterfly effect. Tired of seeing it, so here's my take.

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Chapter Two

Pureblood Tradition

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Anne was pacing the kitchens the very early morning of my birthday. The sun was hardly even out yet but for once, I didn't dare bother her. At first. She was still in her pyjamas, mumbling to herself with what looked to be her sixth cup of coffee in her shakey hands. I could see a small pile of coffee creamers on the counter. All I could was watch, my feet unable to move from my place behind the doors. She didn't know I was there and I didn't want her to. I was afraid. She seemed like a sleepwalker, dangerous to disturb. She'd been like this for awhile now, and I was left with nothing but my intrusive thoughts.

Maybe It had been my fault. I was able to put two and two together well enough to know that there was only so much someone could take of someone as awful as me.

I wanted to say I was sorry and tell her that I'd be good from then on. But I figured they'd mean nothing coming from someone who was unable to learn her lesson the first time. Someone who's promised that same thing many times with a price. I simply couldn't help myself.

Often times, I wondered where I'd went wrong.

I'd gained the confidence to back away from the doors, but paused when I'd heard the tapping of glass. Hendrix, our big fat owl, was tapping on the window to be let in. He had a letter between his claws and the first assumption that came to mind was that It was my glorious letter, accepting me into the beloved school I'd been left to envision for so long. It was the morning of my birthday, after all. The time that wizards and witches with an early summer birthday usually got their letters.

"Is that what I think it is?" I was quick to step into the kitchen, a hopeful look coming about my face as my eyes went from her caught expression to the letter in her hands. "Is that my letter?"

She didn't seem to know what to do with herself then. The paper nearly ripped from hee sudden grip, eyes trained on my movements. Suddenly, I'd felt as though there was something that I'd done that I didn't even remember doing.

"Anne?"

"It's -" she had to swallow. "- It's not your letter."

She'd tried to change the subject by asking what I was doing awake at such an hour. I didn't bite.

And I didn't believe her because I didn't see how it was possible. The rules were simple, after all. Students got their letters earlier in the sumner if their birthday was then. Students who's birthdays were later got their letters then. My birthday was today, and I'd heard that the school term hadn't even ended yet. Surely, that was my letter.

But why would she lie to me?

Did she not want me to go?

I was left to gather my thoughts, my expression blank. Then, I'd changed to something along the lines of anger and a bit of hurt very quickly.

"Yes, that is so my letter!" I raised my voice. Hendrix didn't even stick around for his payment, already knowing what was to come. A tantrum. Screaming. The usual from me. I tried to snatch the letter from her, but she narrowed her eyes and raised it above her head. If I were a few years older, I knew I'd be tall enough to grab it. I wasn't short. But for now I could only jump after it to no avail, but I wouldn't reduce myself to that sort of embarrassment. My anger turned to hurt. "It's my damn birthday!"

"Aurora James Potter, this is not the behavior of a prideful pureblood witch!"

The words made my hand twitch. It took a bit for me to swallow that, I wouldn't lie. And when I did the only thing that'd came to mind was how shameful it would be if such pureblooded witch turned out to be a squib not worthy enough for her school letter. I could hear Dora Calderon and Dewie Hamilton laughing now.

The very thought made my blood boil.

The building frustration pushed a new word that I'd once heard a fellow on the street say out of my mouth. Anne raised her hand in a threatening manner as soon as it left my lips, causing me to flinch. Something stopped her, though. I questioned the nerve she had. She'd hit me once or twice before as a child, but usually a tap on the bum or a pop to the mouth when I'd been disrespectful. But she'd never struck me before. She thought it was too degrading for my status.

She took a deep breath to calm herself, thinking over what she'd been about to do. I saw a look of regret come about her face. I was too blinded by anger to notice at first.

"Today is your birthday," she reminded me. Though it sounded as if she was more reminding herself of this. "I only want you to have a good day."

Anne wasn't telling me something. I could feel it. I may be a mere child to everyone, but I became an expert at noticing when the adults around me were keeping things from me. Especially when it was about me and by default had the Isolt given right to know. It wasn't fair. This entire world felt as though it were against me all of a sudden. I began to ask whoever was in charge of the universe and its creation why they had it out for me. Why they hated me so.

I decided to press further. I wouldn't just give in so easily. I reached over and gripped the kitchen island just in case my bravery went away.

"I have a right to know," I wouldn't beat around the bush. I looked at the letter in her hand once again to see if I could possibly make out any writing. "Whatever it is that's about me."

"Not everything is about you, Aurora."

I found that hard to believe.

My mouth went tight, and I only stared at Anne until she decided to give in. Something I did that usually worked more than half of the time when I wanted something. In this case, I just wanted to be included. Whether or not I'd regret it afterwards.

Much to my delight, she did.

"Listen, I want no mouth from you," she warned me, as if whatever was in that letter was going to damage me. She seemed to verbally step around me cautiously, like a glass doll that would break at any minute. More accurately for me, a bomb ready to explode at the light of a single match. Then as quickly as she'd changed her mind she had changed her tone to a softer one. The stress seemed to leave her face, replaced by that of a numbed look not fit for witch such as her. "I'm sorry. I -"

Anne found herself unable to finish her apology. She set the letter down onto the Island, sliding it towards me as she daintily dapped the corner of her eyes with a napkin. The name written was in bold, black print. Not the best handwriting. Shakey. But I could read it clearly.

I knew his name all right. He'd been all over The Owl Post since I was a child. Yet, the only thing that this told me was that I owed her an apology for being so adamant that it had been my letter. I mentally kicked myself and my mood went Ill. Still no letter. Still have not been accepted into the utopia that'd I'd fantasized about since a toddler. And I still had to wait. Or maybe I didn't

Maybe I wouldn't get it at all.

I blinked rapidly as I thought I'd cry or something. I turned my attention from the letter to her.

"Is this your way of trying to tell me I'm a filthy squib or something?" I demanded.

"Good Isolt, Aurora!" Anne replied exasperated, rubbing her temples. "For the last time, you are no squib!"

"Then why isn't my letter coming?" All I could think about was the injustice of it all. The grudge that the world had against me. It was a frustration that began to squeeze me. Test my sanity. "Why me and not someone else?"

Anne seemed to be tight lipped. she had trouble speaking to me for awhile now, and it was that on top of everything else that made me feel as though there were something wrong with me. That I'd done something horrible. She exhaled and moved to pinch the bridge of her nose. She now looked as though she pitied little old me. Honestly, I pitied myself.

"You're too young," She began, then shook her head as something appeared to of come to mind to her. "But, It's inevitable and I wish so much that it were different. I really do!"

She took both my hands into hers and tried on the most softest expression that she could. Like she were about to tell me that she had the Dragon Pox and would not make it. Something about made me mentally and emotionally brace myself for a blow.

She at least offered a kind smile.

"Aurora do you know where your parents attended school?" she asked me gently. I thought about it. Information on my parents seemed to leave my mind quite easily. But they had been in the United Kingdom, I knew that much. The name was at the tip of my tongue, though.

"Ber - Baubox-" I struggled to pronounce the only other wizarding school from the other continent that I'd bothered to remember, in which Anne had stepped in to correct me.

"No. They went Hogwarts, hon," she shook her head. "And it's pronounced 'Beauxbatons'."

"Oh."

I didn't see how either of these two schools had anything to do with me. Big deal, my parents went there. They were dead. It wasn't as if they were here to control my life.

Then she spoke.

"Your parents left a will," Anne continued, rubbing her thumb gently across my knuckles. "It was the only document that survived the war due to it being legalized with the Ministry of Magic in the United Kingdom and tucked away for safe keeping, but - "

"But?" I urged.

"It's - It's so complicated-" She squeezed her eyes for a moment like there was a lash stuck in there, then forced a smile to soften the blow. "That's where they wanted you to go and I tried so hard to - to get them to let you stay here with me. . ."

She trailed off and gave my hands a squeeze. I didn't understand what she was telling me. It didn't register. Not for a few seconds. I could only hear the ticking of the clock on the wall that'd suddenly gotten a lot louder. I shook my head. It was as if I could feel nothing. Shouldn't I feel something?

"Aurora - ?"

"Tell them I want to stay here," I told her, taking her hands from mine and staring at a tile on the ground. Then I remembered that the case had already passed. Days ago. I looked back up at her. "What did they say to you, do you know?"

She only slowly shook her head 'no', apparently tired of speaking.

"Why the hell not?" I pried. "Weren't you in the damn room?"

"It's corrupt, Aurora!" Anne waved me and my foul language off, like she couldn't and wouldn't hear another word on the matter. What a pity for her. "It was the jury's private decision. They let nobody know and decided to just send a letter."

A letter.

That was what The Congress had chosen to decide my fate.

I didn't want to go to Hogwarts. The United Kingdom were barely picking up the pieces from the wizarding war, I'd heard. Growing up, I'd hardly heard anything of Hogwarts. Just Ilvermorny. So little so that I'd hardly remember the name or a thing about it until someone said it first. But the times I did hear something about that place it didn't sound as nearly as beautiful as Ilvermorny did.

I didn't know who I hated more. The Congress or my parents. Both were ruining my life before it even had the chance to really begin.

Anne broke the silence.

"Go back to sleep," she told me. "You need rest for your birthday party. I'll wake you up at nine so we can go into town."

I'd forgotten all about that with all the commotion. Another thing that I knew I'd dread. So, I didn't move from my place. I needed a little more than that, to which I told her this. She rubbed her eyes, took a long gulp of her coffee, and looked me in my eyes with all the sincerity that she had left.

"You'll be getting your letter tonight," she told me. "At your party. It will either be a Hogwarts one or an Ilvermorny one."

I didn't know how I'd be able to sleep now.

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"You think I give a damn about what you want, you brat?"

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I'd complained about Hogwarts the entire morning. Relentlessly. I knew that Anne was sick and tired of hearing it. It felt like nothing she said could make me feel better. Suddenly, the talk of Ilvermorny that she'd done my whole life turned to Hogwarts. I learned more about that place than I ever wanted to. I learned their houses, their traditions, even their sorting ceremony. It all sounded ridiculous.

I didn't even try to seem interested, to which she noticed. As sympathetic of a look as she tried to give me, it hadn't worked. There was a strong chance that I'd have to book a one-way ticket to Scotland. Or London. I didn't bother to remember where the damned place was located, either.

"It's not that bad there," Anne tried to say. I knew she was lying. I knew even she thought that place was some sort of hell hole. Biased, she was. But hated to admit it. "You could at least ask me a couple of questions to get to know the place better."

I thought about it.

"What are the stupid house traits?" I asked lamely, trying to look past the wizard and witches on the street to see if The Witch's Cauldron was coming into view. I was hardly paying attention, as my mouth was watering for a birthday float. She tapped me on the shoulder roughly and reminded me to listen and that the pub wasn't going anywhere.

It was easy for her to say. There was a chance that I may not see it for a long time, unfortunately.

Anne continued to tell me of the houses and their traits. The rumors I would hear. Where the purebloods I should surround myself with are going to be. What families to stay away from. It felt like years of knowledge being forced into my head all at once, and I could do nothing about it. I tried my best to remember, at least. Something about staying away from a blood-traitor redheaded family. Stay away from some forest, and she'd said something about being careful around the other one.

"Other one?" I'd asked. She chewed her lip and told me that now wasn't the time to talk of it. Then added that my question would be answered in due time. I'd only let out a growl of frustration at her and asked her what she'd meant.

"Someone can answer your questions better than I can, Aurora," Anne told me with a frown.

I asked her who it was. She hesitated, ignored the question, and changed the topic to my party as the pub came into view. I abandoned the conversation and began to run inside, Anne loudly reminding me to walk as a lady should. The first thing I saw was a big and beefy woman from across the room looked up from where she was serving a young wizard and gave me the toothiest smile.

"Potter!" She'd greeted loudly, wiping loose contents onto her dirtied apron. I swore that her voice had shaken a couple of tables. She'd excitedly made her way to us to have the honor of guiding us to one of the best seats in the pub. "I knew I'd see you here sooner or later today."

"Good morning, Ms. Madka," Anne forced a smile, picking up a menu from the side rack of the table. I eyed it, waiting for her to take out her wand with a smile coming about my face. "You know what this one wants. I'll take the. . ."

She pointed her wand at the menu onto a labeled blue circle. A transparent glass of red wine appeared in front of Anne, Ms. Madka taking a good look at it before she took the menu and tucked it under her arm. I absolutely loved it when that happened. I could hardly wait for my wand, even if I wouldn't be getting it here. Sadly.

"One red wine and a birthday float for the birthday girl comin' up!" she bellowed happily, patting my shoulder as she passed by. It gave me a bit of comfort, her touch. Ms. Madka had been all over the world, seeling her pastries and drinks. I tried to will my mind that maybe change wouldn't be such a bad thing. I told myself that there was more of the world to see than America.

But you've never gotten the chance to see anything, right?

Damn it all.

Just don't think about it, is what I kept trying to tell myself. Yet it was all that was on my mind. I was anxious. I hadn't slept and I had my party at three o'clock this afternoon. I didn't even want to go. It was the same every damn year anyhow.

"So," Anne spoke up, moving her hand to cover mine. I took my hand from her. She frowned and tried to pretend that it hadn't hurt her feelings. Forcing the smile back as quickly as it'd once left, she added: "Have you thought of what you'd say for your speech?"

"No," I'd replied, "I don't even look forward to these damned parties anymore because it's just full of people I don't like."

Anne didn't try to hide the frown this time but she didn't say anything about my use of words.

"Aurora, those people happen to be fellow respected purebloods," she reminded me sternly to watch my mouth when I spoke about them. "It's tradition, remember?"

A stupid tradition, really. One that forced me to talk to people like The Calderons and The Hamiltons. And many other pureblood families that ranked higher than me. Anne had taught me from the moment I could understand her was that they were to be feared. Them, like us, did not take kindly to disrespect. And thus an invite to any event thrown by one of fellow pureblood status was required to be in their hands as soon as possible. I couldn't invite who I wanted, nor did I even have a choice on whether or not I even wanted a party that year.

Yet every time I had asked, Anne has simply said that it was tradition to avoid speaking of it any further. On the bright side, I'd finally was able to think of a positive for the possibility of going Hogwarts. I wouldn't be forced to attend any more pureblood events.

"I used to like parties, you know," I'd spoke my thoughts aloud bitterly, coloring the pictures on the back of the place mats. "I don't understand why it's even a big deal if they aren't invited."

She gave me a pointed look.

"A pureblood's birthday party is the celebration of another generation of blood purity," answered Anne, looking behind me as if checking for prying ears. "It is a very important event. This year even more so because eleven is the year of magic maturity."

That explained why people got their letters this age.

I perked up when Ms.Madka returned, sliding me my float - which I noted looked a bit bigger this year - and Anne her red wine. She took a gulp as if she'd really needed it, then nudged me. I looked up in between bites to see her gesturing towards Madka, who stood next to our table chugging down a tall glass of water.

"Thank you," I forced myself to say to her. I thought that would be the end of it, but she looked nervous. Like she'd wanted to say something. Almost like she were guilty about something. "Ms. Madka?"

She hesitated.

"Forgive me," she looked between us like she had already said too much. "There's just been. . . Been some talk."

"Talk?" Anne set her glass down. "What kind of talk?"

I think I already knew. Looking around I noticed for the first time how people were staring at us. Glancing occasionally. Whispering. Even when I'd looked their way they would quickly avert their eyes, thinking I hadn't seen them already. I had to admit I was surprised at Anne. She'd taught me that gossip was distasteful for a lady.

"Everyone's heard," Madka lowered her voice to a whisper. Or in her case, regular speech volume. "About the court case. They say that the Hogwarts Headmaster's been circling 'round here in Gormeth."

My appetite suddenly left me. I looked to Anne, who was suddenly at a loss for words. She must have felt my eyes on her because she looked back at me and pressed her lips into a thin line before looking back at Ms. Madka. The large woman now looked like she wished she hadn't said anything at all. Gormeth was the large wizarding city that we were in at this very moment. He was too close to me for comfort.

"What the hell is he doin' here?" I stuck my spoon into the float, not minding that it completely submerged in the root-beer. "Shouldn't he be long in Britain or something by now?"

"Scotland," Anne corrected, then took a sip of her wine. Again, she was avoiding something. "And, I suppose so."

"You suppose so?"

Ms. Madka began to look uncomfortable, sensing the tension that had been viciously brewing the last week or so. She forced one of her toothy grins and tried to look encouraging to me.

"Don't fret, darling!" she took a spare spoon from her dirty handkerchief and placed it next to my bowl. "I'd been everywhere. Scotland ain't so bad. You'll find it quite nice there!"

Quite nice.

But not nearly as nice as the pristine silver gates of Ilvermorny.

I knew that Ms. Madka meant well, but it hadn't helped. Not in the slightest. I found myself spacing out and closing my eyes for what felt like the millionth time since I could remember. I heard talking around me. Whether it was the rustling and bustling of the wizard folks that were in the pub or the two women next to me, I didn't know. But it was muffled now. Suddenly I felt like I could hear the talk of others so clearly in my ears. I took this stupid Headmaster's presence as a threat. The talk of me and Anne even more so. I dreaded what the others would say to this matter. Damn them all to the flaming pits of hell.

How awful. Little Potter never had a choice in any of this.

I saw the black pair of eyes again. Instead of looking blank and demeaning as they always did, they looked almost amused this time. It was now that I'd questioned where the voice and the eyes came from. That they were together. That they'd meant something that I couldn't understand.

Why me?

I forced my eyes open before It could get too deep. But I felt something tap the back of my mind to turn around. And I did. There, in the corner of the pub I saw a familiar looking face. Except this time she had a short white top hat laced with a black bow and the appearance of a muggle circus host. She was already staring me down when I'd met her eyes. Black. amused. And waiting. I wondered why she'd wanted me to see her.

But I blinked and she was gone.

"There," I pointed to the now empty spot. My eyes went to Anne, and I only now noticed that Madka was long gone and a great deal of time had already passed. Like time sped up in my head. She looked to where I pointed and of course, saw nothing. "I saw a lady with a top hat!"

"A - what?"

I clamped my mouth shut when I grew self aware enough to realise how stupid I must have sounded. It'd sounded better in my head, so I reluctantly told her that It'd just been my imagination.

But I knew what I'd seen. She'd wanted me to see her for some reason

A warning.

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"There's so much about your family that you don't know, dear one."

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"Aurora stand near the door and greet your guests, you know better."

Having the blood status of mine had its perks. People naturally respected you. Feared you because they thought you were capable of far-fetched things. And it opened doors. Yet, there were things that made even me dread such a thing. Tradition. Rank. Behavior that I had to phase my mind into. Sometimes I was forced to put on a smile for the people that would stab my damn back the second I said something they didn't like.

But on the bright side, my kind were rich enough to rent the fanciest of party halls in Gormeth. And every guest that I had to give a royal wave to that came through the door had a present in hand. Yet, I found that I was looking for someone holding a letter instead. I craned my neck at the people who did to see the writing on the envelopes.

"Aurora Potter, what a lovely party you have here," I knew that snobby holier-than-thou tone of voice from anywhere. It's been three weeks since I'd last seen her, mostly because I had to miss lessons to ready myself for the party. But it still wasn't long enough. Dora Calderon was passed through the door, her parents leaving her side to go mingle with the other adults. She eyed me and my fluffy green polka-dot dress. "A shame that this may be the last that I'm coming to."

Not even five seconds and she already took a dig at me, reminding me that she'd heard of the Hogwarts talk. The back of my head reminded me that I wasn't allowed to say a thing, which already frustrated me beyond anything. Yet Anne wasn't here to stop me. She'd long gone to go direct folks where to put the presents and show off the expensive decoration.

"Shame for you, but damn good for me," I faked a smile and snatched the present from her hands. Her mouth hung upon my language and she looked to go want to tell her parents that I'd cursed. "thousandths of miles away and that nose could probably still reach me there."

Nice to know I'd already ruined her night. She covered her schnauzer and high-tailed it with the other kids, leaving me to my own devices until she thought of a comeback and decided to return later. Until then, I'd cut it short only because I had bigger and more important things in mind.

Yet thirty minutes later, the hall was packed with the awful classical music going loud. Much to my disappointment, It didn't appear that anyone else was coming. My first thought was that it was someone in this building then. They had my damn letter and the anticipation was killing me by now.

I moved away from the door and entered the sea of witches and wizards who wished me a happy birthday and patted me on the back. I moved towards the present table, hoping that perhaps the letter box on the side had my letter in it. Unfortunately magically sealed 'till midnight. Just my luck. I instead began to look under the presents and ignore the endearing looks people gave me. All they'd seen was a small child curious about what she got and laughed about it.

Anne didn't.

"Aurora, what on earth are you doing?" she asked me, quick to take the present out of my hand and adjust the white bow on my head. "You touch the presents later. You are supposed to be engaging with your peers. Go on, now."

She took my shoulders and guided me away from the presents table, much to my dismay.

There was nothing else I could do.

So for hours, I'd forced myself to speak, smile, and pretend that nothing was eating me alive from the inside. Everyone that approached me made me anxious and hopeful at the same time. With every passing hour, my hope wore thin and I began to think that I truly was not meant for a letter. My thoughts told me that the decision they'd may of reached was no school at all.

I wouldn't believe it.

All I had to do was remind myself of what I was. A pureblood witch that'd came from nothing but long lines. Certainly, I was getting my letter.

I was tapped on the shoulder, and Anne whispered in my ear that I'd have to give my speech. The worst part of it all. I was directed through a parting crowd towards a small stage and nudged up the three little steps. I looked back at Anne with a look of disappointment, and she knew then that my mind had ached with another worry. She smiled sadly, gestured with her hands to get going. I cleared my throat.

"Thank you for coming," I was sure I sounded dull, scripted, and irritable. But that didn't matter to me. I'd only really wanted one thing tonight. "I'm. . . I'm so happy to have the honor of passing my pure blood to the next generation. I look forward to withholding this honor for years to come."

I paused to look out onto the people and saw my greatest fear and my greatest hope as realization hit me. There, in all his glory I could see from my place above them on the stage - the old man that I'd remembered from The Congress. Same hat, but different clothes. He saw me looking at him, and he smiled back gently and offered a wave. Then, gently folded his hands in front of him and waited for me to finish my speech.

I could hardly focus and my chest began to sting a little.

"I hope. . . I hope that this party is enjoyable for not only me, but for you as. . . you as well," I blinked my eyes tightly and fidgeted with the folds of my dress. I wanted to end this as quickly as possible. "The honor is mine."

I could hardly hear the clapping and cheering. They all sounded as though they were underwater, their movements slow. The world no longer seemed to turn. Hogwarts. I suddenly had to change the image I'd imagined for myself growing up. Instead of the blue and cranberry Ilvermorny uniforms that I'd envisioned myself in ever since I was a child, I would have to look into the Hogwarts robes instead. As my movements slowed along with the others around me, I questioned what they looked like. Pictured them as ugly as possible all while cursing the name of my parents for what they were putting me through.

It was all their damn fault.

How could they have such control over my fate?

They were dead.

The man began to walk off, but I wouldn't let him. Where the hell did he think he was going? He sped up, ignoring the people who'd tried to get my attention. They were all irrelevant now. None of them mattered. Damn all of them for trying to get in my way.

I caught the nook of his robes and tugged. It felt like popping clogged ears. Time resumed as normal and I could hear everything normally again.

"Ah, Ms. Potter," said the old man with a curious gaze. He looked to the side of him at the table full of sweets. "Forgive me, I hope you don't mind if I took a couple of cookies. I have a bit of a sweet tooth."

What?

The words had caught in my throat, so he took my silence as a ticket to do as he pleased. I watched his movements, wondering where he was keeping it. I heard the man had tricks. Before I could speak, he cut me off.

"I've been quite curious to meet you," He said. "You look just as your father did, you know."

Oh, none of that.

"You have it," I didn't beat around the bush.

"Have what, my dear?"

"My -" I wanted to get it over with, but savor the moment just in case to save myself from disappointment. I was torn. "My letter. My school letter -"

"Aurora!" Oh, great. Anne must have seen me chase after the guy. Within seconds she was behind me, hand on shoulder and looking at the Hogwarts Headmaster as if I'd already done something wrong. "Forgive her, please. She's just eager."

He held up a hand to cease any apology.

"There is nothing to forgive, Ms. Briar," He reassured her, then looked back to me. "Child, for starters I wish to apologise to you for the agonising wait that you endured. They ought to be ashamed for putting such a young one through it as they did."

I opened my mouth to address the 'child' part, but Anne tightened her grip on my shoulder as a warning. She was anxious, but not more than I was.

"Second, I wish to say that I have not one, but two presents that I'd like to give you," his calmness seemed to make me uneasy. I couldn't tell it was dramatic affect or what, but it was making me antsy all the same. The old man gestured towards the present table. "I didn't want to put such personal items at the table."

Anne and I watched as he reached into the sleeve of his robe and swiftly pull out medium sized box. I instinctively held my hands out to take it, and noted that it was rather heavy. He told me not to open it until later when I'd gotten home, for it was private. The curiosity would have killed me had I not be anticipating something else that I'd been waiting for longer. I looked up at him, growing tired.

"And. . ?" I urged him, reminding him that there was something else. To which he chuckled lightly and reached into his other sleeve.

The letter was a pristine white envelope that was blinding to me. I thought maybe because I hadn't seen it until now. I tried to take it, but the Headmaster pulled back his hand and gave me a look that said there was more to it. "Ms. Potter, I just wish to tell you that it is with this honor that I had the chance to give you this letter," He then added: "Regardless."

He handed it to me face down. He seemed to love the anticipation. Then, when I'd turned it over I felt as though I could ride on a nimbus onto the moon.

There, in all its dark silver glory was the Ilvermorny official seal.

The relief that flooded my system was almost unbearable. Anne was behind me, trying to keep it together and congratulating me on this great moment as a young witch. I felt as if I could scream in happiness. Like I'd wanted this very moment to last.

I looked up to thank the headmaster, but he was gone.

"Here I go, the ride I know."

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As promised, I'd waited until I got home to.open my gift from the headmaster of Hogwarts. Wrapped quite loosely, I didn't have an issue for tearing the paper to get to what was nice and plush inside. My brow wrinkled im confusion when I pulled out a blanket and held it to Anne for her to see. She inhaled, running her fingers gently running against the quilt. I saw many faces. One's that I'd never seen before.

"The Potter family tree," she'd whispered. Then she pointed to a particular face and name. "Look."

Dormada Potter

I saw a woman with the finest blonde hair and the nicest blue eyes I'd ever seen. The photos didn't move, which puzzled me for a bit until Anne had told me that this was stitching, not a photograph. The face of the woman seemed to stare at me with hope. By her looks alone I could tell that she was kind on the inside, but tough and stern on the outside.

"Is that - ?"

"Your mother," Anne nodded. Her smile seemed sad. She hadn't any photos of my mother since the war had taken them all in England. This was the first she'd seen of her for years. "Hadn't seen her since our Hogwarts days."

I looked at her, stunned my the revelation.

"You went to Hogwarts?" I asked. To which she nodded her head. All this time, I thought she'd went to Ilvermorny the way she'd spoken about it all my life. Not to mention, we were here in America now, long away from that place. I couldn't help but ask; "Why did we end up here?"

She paused, her eyes never leaving the stitching of her sister. There was a mere moment when her eyes looked haunted by the memories a single question arose.

"A conversation for another time," her voice went hoarse. She cleared her throat and pointed to the image of a man named Permithius Potter and told me that it was my father. A man with red flaming hair like mine that was slicked back neatly, a bow tie to match his sophisticated look "Such a serious man he was."

She looked at me and chuckled a bit, as if she had a hard time even looking at the man there. I decided not to ask.

"You surprised me, really," she'd told me. "How unlike your parents you are."

I nodded slowly, yet felt a weird sense of pride that I was nothing like either of them. That I managed to establish my own image. I thought myself wrong for this. Immoral that I showed such little emotion for my parents. Yet, I found myself curious of my family ties. I'd never been told exactly where I'd came from. Only vague details that Anne didn't seem to have the nerve to disclose.

I asked her what made me so different.

She debated for a moment if she should tell me, but eventually obliged.

"Your mother was strict on the outside - and looked like it with that sharp chin of hers, but she was a patient and kind Slytherin woman. Many didn't agree with her ways, such as I," Anne seemed to reminisce. "Your father on the other hand was rather studious. Opinionated. I was sure he'd be in Gryffindor like all the other Potters were. But that hat did him a number by putting him in Hufflepuff."

"Oh."

I looked at the faces on the quilt to see if they matched the description I'd been given. My father did, certainly, but my mother obviously didn't. I moved onto other faces. One that happened to be sort of next to my fathers but with different parentage. A man with black hair, square glasses, and hazel eyes. James Potter, it read. I had a hard time figuring out what family member he was to me. He'd caught my attention because I thought he was my uncle.

"Mm, your father's cousin, your godfather." Anne informed me when she saw me staring at him. "They grew up together. Close at first but Hogwarts caused a rift between them. They didn't get along after that. Died on bad terms."

And she left it at that.

I looked towards what seemed to be my grandparents. Charlus Potter and Dorea Potter.

I pointed to them.

"Did you know them?" I asked her. She shook her head and told me she was unable to think back that far. I no longer hsd the desire to see past my grandparents. Nodding, I then had the idea to see where I was on the quilt.

Adjusting it slightly, I saw just two remaining figures on the Potter family tree. Right next to Aurora Potter, I saw the one and only Harry Potter. My eyes couldn't leave the image of the black haired boy with greenest eyes I'd ever seen. They'd even stitched his scar on his forehead. I looked to Anne questionably, and she wordlessly smiled sadly at me.

No questions. Not yet, anyways.

I tried to move it out of view, but something in the folds of the blanket fell out with a loud thump onto the floor. Anne was the first to search for it, find it, and examine it. She held it up to me to show me that it was a beautiful looking magnifying glass. It had a glass handle tinted with a rose color. The sides carved from a cream colored wood in a snake pattern.

A note was attached.

'To see the things you cannot otherwise', It said.

I had no clue what that meant.

"Follow me into this world."