I do not own Harry Potter, that right belongs to J.K. Rowling. If I did own HP, the books would not nearly be as good.
LaGranPepita
Rhea did not like Hogwarts.
Sure it was incredibly different from the Hogwarts in her time, in a good way, but it was the people that made it so... miserable.
The Ravenclaws were at least somewhat decent people, but most, if not all, of them had an unnatural thirst for knowledge. So much so that even Rhea was a little uncomfortable, and she enjoyed the power of wisdom.
But everyone seemed so carefree. A concept Rhea had never known until she made her daring escape from the prison that was the future. It made Rhea continue keeping her guard up, even with the people she would go so far as to call her friends.
One of these so-called friends was currently walking with Rhea back to the dorms, gushing over the enigma that is Remus Lupin whom she had a crush on. Rhea had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Personally, Rhea did not care one bit for the conceptualization of crushes, but she supposes that's what actual teenage girls talk about. Rhea wouldn't know anything about normal teenage things, and she would rather observe and listen rather than engage in a meaningless conversation.
"He helped me with my books today," her fifth year friend Freya Juneberry squeals to the younger Hufflepuff next to her, Iris Inkwell. "Isn't he so sweet?"
Iris smiles kindly and nods, uncertainty flickering briefly across her face before mending into her usual gentle features. "Of course," she says, adjusting her bag. "Just yesterday he assisted me repair my notes that a Slytherin had spilled juice on. He fixed it with a simple flick of his wand; quite intelligent."
Freya ignores her last comment. How she became a Ravenclaw with her awful grades and disinterest in knowledge is beyond Rhea. Maybe her creative choice of clothing got her into Ravenclaw? "What about you Rhea?" Freya asks, turning to Rhea in anticipation.
Rhea resists the urge to flinch back from the sudden attention (and being asked a question. Being included.) She adjusts her blue scarf, finding something to do with her hands. "I dunno what I think," Rhea responds with, looking straight ahead to avoid eye contact. "And frankly, I don't care."
Freya pouts like a child, and yet again, Rhea has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "Fine," Freya says, her hips sashing away. "If you want to be like that, then I'll just leave."
Freya walks away without another word. Well, Rhea thinks glumly, she's in one of her moods today. She'll be fine in a few hours, so Rhea's not too worried. Iris smiles kindly at her. "Antione broke up with her this morning, so she's a bit moody."
Rhea raises an eyebrow. "And that stuff about the Gryffindor?"
Iris shrugs. "I think she's just mourning, or whatever people do when someone breaks up with them." Iris puts her hand on her chin, looking thoughtful. "But I suppose the word 'mourning' implies death, or some tragically unfortunate circumstance, and technically, nobody died. Freya would disagree that her heart did, but you and I both know how dramatic she is."
Rhea finds herself wanting to smile. Iris was always fun to be around. Most people would say she talks too much (or too little in some cases) about unimportant matters, but Iris seems to just ignore them and move on with her explanations. "I think you should use the word 'distressed' instead of 'mourning.' It has that level of sophistication that goes along with your own words, and it, unlike 'mourning', does not imply death. Instead, it implies that she's suffering from pain, anxiety, or sorrow which, in this case, could be applied to what Freya seems to be enduring."
Iris beams at her. "Well said, Esmeray. Distressed it is then."
Rhea allows a small smile to dance across her face.
Iris waved goodnight to Rhea and, yawning, trudged up the stairs to the girls dormitory. Rhea waved back, dropping her hand quickly though, and walked out of the common room, content to not stay with any more people than she had to.
Rhea, upon arrival at Hogwarts, was given a grand and thorough tour of the stone castle by the staff, but had taken to traveling throughout the hidden rooms and hallways dotted around and in its walls. Of course, Rhea had found multiple hidden areas, but she's still finding more. Some places she'd found before could only be accessed by a specific spell, or an intricate dance, perhaps even a few words. But others, very, very few ones, were hidden in plain sight that only a person like Rhea could find the beauty or tragedy of.
Rhea climbed the stairs to the Astronomy room, then climbed even more stairs to get to the highest point of Hogwarts. Well, the highest point accessible to people. Mere students aren't allowed to access the roof, but Minerva McGonagall had told Rhea, with utmost reluctance, annoyance, and a slightest hit of fondness, that a certain few people have been ingressing it for the past few years. It didn't take a genius to figure out who were tricky and stupid enough to spead time in a forbidden area (the Marauder's).
Rhea breathed in the air on the roof, her eyes gazing over the land cast in shadows. When Rhea had first arrived at Hogwarts, she needed some place to let go, get away from people. She needed peace. The roof had given her the peace that she craved, and so much more.
Rhea whirled around as she heard quiet footsteps approach her, and was greeted by the sight of wide-eyed Lily Evans. Rhea breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that a random stranger hadn't caught her, but her relief vanished quickly when Evans sat next to her, seemingly gotten over her shock at seeing another human being out at this ungodly hour of the night.
The only noise was the gentle swaying of the wind passing over their heads, chilling Rhea and Evans. It wasn't until about five minutes later when Evans couldn't handle the quiet and spoke up. "It's pretty, isn't it."
Rhea could tell that she wasn't asking a question, just an inquiry. Rhea just nodded, and Evans somehow took that as a sign to continue talking. "Do you know any of these constellations?"
Rhea nodded again, and pointed her hand in the air. "That one's called Ursa Major, it can be seen all year in Europe, though I don't know if it's the same for the U.S," Rhea explains. "In Greek Mythology, that constellation, the Great Bear, is supposedly Callisto. I'm not good with mythology, but I do know a few things. Hera got angry that Zeus fell in love with Callisto, so she made her son Arcas to try and kill Callisto, but it didn't work. Zeus got angry and turned Arcas into a little bear. That bear, though, is Callisto."
Evans nods, and points to another one. "That's my favorite."
Rhea squints. "Is that Cassiopeia?"
Evans nods again. "I like her story, and my enjoyment for Cassiopeia's story translates over to the constellation."
"Isn't she the one who thought she was prettier than sea nymphs and offered her daughter to a sea monster?" Rhea asks, disbelieving.
Evans hesitates. "Yeah," she says shyly. "I get the story sounds...bad. But what I get from it is why I like it so much."
Rhea feels like she's going to regret this. "What do you get from?"
Evans smiles lightly. "At least she was confident enough to boast. I would never be able to do that. She went to crowds of people just to show off her beauty, going far as saying she's prettier than some of the most beautiful creatures alive." Evans hesitates again. "That and...and she was herself."
That caught Rhea off guard. "What? What do you mean?"
Evans eyes her fingers, twiddling them. "Well, she didn't try to hide anything. She faced her problems head on, even if offering her daughter in exchange for her own life was awful, she still had the courage to disobey literal gods. She did what she wanted, no holding back.
"I guess one could say that I admire Cassiopeia in a strange, very unusual way," Evans says. "Under no circumstances was what she did even considered good, but she still had the confidence to do it; I surely wouldn't." Evans stood up, looking embarrassed. "I'm gonna go now, I have tests tomorrow…"
And she was off. But Rhea was there, sitting stock still in shock and horror. She could vaguely see why Evans liked Cassiopeia, even if she was vain, but that's not why Rhea's shocked.
It just reminded her of herself and a friend she had once.
Rhea doesn't remember how old she was at the time, but she thinks it's around six or five. Definitely five, now that she thinks about it.
Five year olds normally play outside and have fun with friends from a school or a daycare, but Rhea? She was stuck inside all day long, cramming her head with so-called important information.
Her private tutor, a strict Spanish witch named Catalina, tapped her knuckles with a ruler, giving her a sharp glance. She had been letting her mind wander again, and Catalina did not care for slackers. Reluctantly, little Rhea got back to her textbook.
"Miss Esmeray," Catalina began with a heavy accent, "it is important for you to not become distracted in your studies. Especially not with the war going on. Pureblood families must remain calm and collected, not with wandering minds. You," Catalina smacks Rhea's knuckles again as she started to ignore her, getting Rhea's attention," do not seem to be calm and collected." She tsked."Disappointing."
With that, Catalina moved away gracefully, focusing on her grading papers. Rhea's turned in homework that will no doubt get her a scolding from her parents. Honestly, Rhea is not interested in their families 'proud' history, not with all the disrespect towards everyone. Rhea would never say it outloud, she'd probably be disowned if she did, but she kind of wished the war would end and kill her family, and, on her darkest days, her, too.
Rhea doesn't care who wins, she just wants the fighting to be over. And the death. Rhea has always been told she had somewhat of a pessimistic sort of view of the world, but she would (in her thoughts of course, speaking back to an adult is considered disrespectful as her parents had drilled into her head at a young age) disagree with them. She's just being realistic. Being realistic is not being pessimistic, but people don't seem to get that.
Rhea finishes her worksheet after ten minutes and gives it to Catalina's waiting hands. Catalina gives her a critical eye before dismissing her to go and do whatever it is she wants to do. Without damaging her family's reputation, of course, she would never (she would).
Young Rhea walks outside, her footsteps making little to no noise. She learned at a young age just what silence could do; a lot, actually. Rhea always thought silence was a state of mind, it doesn't and would never exist except in her emotions and thoughts. Maybe she was being too pessimistic?
Rhea looks around as she always does when she walks outside, always something new to see even if it can't be seen to the naked eye. But, instead of her large yard being desolate and, even though in good condition, void of any signs of human life, there was a young girl sitting on her fountain, smiling and holding a butterfly in her palm.
Rhea thought the girl was about eight, which was practically an adult to Rhea, but Rhea didn't think that eight years old would look so happy. The eight year olds she'd meet have been arrogant, pathetically prim and proper, alive, but no sign on actually living. The girl had curled, black hair, tan skin, and, from what Rhea could see, gray eyes.
She wore what people in her family would call 'mudblood attire' which basically meant that she wore what normal humans would wear. She was dressed in a pretty, light yellow sundress that hovered just above her knees, along with flip flops that seemed to be barely hanging on her feet.
She stared at the butterfly situated in her palm intensely. Her face, twisted in fascination, reminded Rhea of her grandfather. He was kind, unlike the rest of her family, and he didn't care for blood status or rules. He always looked at everyone as if they weren't useless beings that used people as mere stepping stones on their path on water. Or, as most people would put it, as equals. Personally, Rhea liked her explanation better.
The girl, seeming to sense her nearby, tilted her hand to where Rhea was at. Rhea, unable to hide behind anything, could only wait in horror as her face moved towards Rhea.
Silence.
Then, "Is there someone there?" The girl's voice carried towards Rhea, light and wistful. Wistful about what, Rhea couldn't tell you then and she can't now.
Rhea, bracing herself, called out, "Y-Yeah."
The girl's head tilted, but this time it seemed to be gesturing besides her where an empty spot lay. "Come and sit with me," the girl said, sensing Rhea's hesitation. "Don't be afraid," the girl coaxed gently. "I'm no harm to anyone. I can't even harm this...butterfly." She paused before saying butterfly, like she wasn't sure if it was a butterfly.
Rhea found herself walking over to the girl who was smiling gently. The closer Rhea got, the more unfocused the girl's gray eyes got. It was like she wasn't quite there sitting on a foundation of supposedly private property, but somewhere that was important. "Hello," Rhea begins lightly to the girl who was staring straight ahead, but her head was angled towards Rhea that indicated she was listening. "M-My name's Rhea Esmeray. Yours?"
The girl seemed to jolt out of whatever state she was in, her head fully turning to Rhea. Rhea thought that the unfocused gray eyes shouldn't have been as warm as they were. "Esmeray? The Pureblood Esmeray Family?" Rhea braced herself for the warmth and gentleness of the stranger to go away, and anger and cold hatred to return as it always did. But that didn't happen.
"Oh," the girl said, giggling, "I must have stumbled upon your family home by accident. Sorry, no wonder Mama always tells me to not wander too far. Hm, you said your name was Rhea, correct?" Rhea nods her head, unsure. "Can I call you Miss Rhea?" She nodded again. "Sorry, have you been nodding your head or not?"
"Uh, I have," Rhea replied, uncertainty filling her veins.
The girl smiles. "Right, well, Miss Rhea, I'm blind." She pointed to her gray eyes.
"You-You can't see anything?" Rhea asks, disbelieving.
She nods. "I do believe that's what being blind means." Rhea kept quiet. "Oh, I haven't introduced myself, have I? Sorry, I'm a tad forgetful." The girl holds out her hand in front of her, tilted to the side a bit. Rhea took that as an invitation to shake her hand. "I'm Emeline. Emeline Lotus. But just call me Emy, everyone does."
"Okay," Rhea replies.
After a few minutes of silence, the girl, now Emeline, Emy, stands up. She holds her hand out and lets the butterfly go. "Goodbye, butterfly."
"Goodbye, butterfly," Rhea says quietly, her heart filled with something strange.
Rhea never forgot that encounter when she was younger. She never has either. Every time something bad happened in her life, whether it would be her controlling parents and other relatives, or at the end of the Cruento War when she felt her heart break in half after the Dark Lord won. She never forgot it.
Lily Evans told her how she felt about the story of Cassiopeia, and Rhea felt a piece of herself break apart. She was nothing like Cassiopeia, she wasn't vain, she wasn't pretty, and she wasn't confident to the point of arrogance.
Evans certainly wasn't vain. Evans was fairly pretty, and perhaps just a little on the inside, too. Evans wanted to be confident, not arrogant, but she wanted to have something that wasn't there. Something she didn't have but wished she did, like Rhea who wanted someone back, but couldn't get them back.
Emeline wasn't vain. Emeline was pretty on the outside and inside, a warm ball of sunshine that Rhea could sometimes see whenever she looked at a butterfly. Emeline certainly wasn't confident to the point of arrogance, but she was confident enough to stay and help her neighbors escape when the Death Eaters invaded her village.
Even if it got her killed.
Which it did.
Rhea would never say it out loud to Evans, but her thoughts of Cassiopeia had helped her more than she could ever know. Rhea would never say it out loud (she couldn't, not now and not ever) to Emeline, but she had helped her to face life and death, along with her parents.
And Rhea would never say it out loud to Iris, but when Rhea found herself in the Ravenclaw common room with no idea how she got there, sobbing quietly with a pair of arms around her in a comforting way, she had helped her get through the grief she'd never allow herself to feel after Emeline died.
Maybe Hogwarts wasn't as bad as she thought.