AN: Good god, people. I mean I'm over the moon about this but still. I went from being glad that my fic is somewhere in the middle pages to 1000+ follows. Holy fuck.
~~o0o~~
Magic Circuit [magecraft term]
...are the metaphysical organ akin to a nervous system that exists within the body of a magical human. They are the paths that convert life force into magical energy. Because the number of magic circuits a person has is fixed at birth, magi lineages do what they can to improve themselves and create an heir with just one more Magic Circuit, which is why those from older lineages are more powerful. Circuits are sorted by Quality, Quantity, and Composition.
It should be noted that besides the usual Normal and Abnormal compositions, witches fall into a separate category due to their Cluster Composition type, more commonly referred to as a Core. What sets the Core apart from other types is that the interwoven Circuits cannot be used individually because they act more like jumper cables that start the reaction of putting the Cluster in the "Open" state.
This also renders witches unable to separate the necessary 1-2 Circuits off the Cluster in order to create a conventional Crest even if they had the knowledge to create one, not to mention the potential health risks the donor would undertake under such a procedure...¹
~~o0o~~
It was with some combination of nervous excitement and melancholy that Iris got off her mother's motorbike after they pulled up at King's Cross station. Ignoring the sideways glances and unsubtle stares the vehicle and its driver garnered, Iris unlatched the weighty trunk from the side of the bike. Although she knew driving with an offset balance was a negligible feat for her mother, she couldn't help but be awed for a second as she hefted up her luggage with the smallest trickle of Reinforcement.
Entering the railway station's main lobby with her mother, she looked around for Waver - while he promised to see her off, he still had morning seminars to teach, so he had left home earlier than them.
Iris turned her head abruptly when she saw a flash of lavender hair and red eyes in the corner of her vision, and her brows knit when she looked but found no one with those features.
"Ah, there you are."
She turned to see her uncle walk up to them.
"Are you sure you packed everything you need?"
"Yes, I'm sure, just like every other time you asked in the past two days" Iris responded, rolling her eyes.
"It costs nothing to-"
"-doublecheck. I know," Iris interrupted, continuing the phrase.
"...very well then," the magus conceded with a sigh. "To platform 9 and...3/4ths, was it?"
"It says so on the ticket," she noted, holding it up for her uncle to see.
The four followed the directions to platforms 9 and 10, where Iris and Waver proceeded to debate where exactly they had gone wrong for a solid minute before Medusa spoke up.
"You two, can't you feel how much magical energy this support wall between the platforms is radiating?" she asked with a mix of amusement and exasperation, Ivy shaking her head besides her in the corner of Iris' eyes for a split second.
Said two abruptly halted, looking away sheepishly, before schooling themselves and inspecting the brick wall like it was the most fascinating thing in the world, making the Gorgon roll her eyes at the scene.
"Huh, it appears there have been several standard wards thrown on it, like the one to make the mundane person think it utterly unremarkable," the magus observed.
He was about to step closer to it when two kids pushing carts ran by one after the other, nearly ramming into him and disappeared into the wall like it was an illusion.
The group blinked in befuddlement for a moment. "I suppose that explains it," he finally commented.
"George! Fred!" called a shrill voice.
A plump ginger woman in robes followed by a gaggle of similarly ginger children halted in front of them.
"I'm so dreadfully sorry. The hooligans didn't manage to clip you, did they?" she asked wearily.
The magus waved it off. "Ah, it is no issue. It is my fault for being in the way."
"Here to see off your little one too for her first year at Hogwarts?" she asked, glancing at Iris.
Waver flushed at the implication of being the father but quickly recovered. "Yes, here to see my niece off."
The woman appeared to open her mouth for a reply when her nose crinkled when she noticed Medusa, before schooling her expression with a small smile and muttering another apology, going through the barrier. The rest of the children followed, although the smallest, a girl, lingered behind for a moment looking at Medusa with wide eyes before following suit.
The three traded a look at the odd reaction for a long moment that was interrupted by the youngest's snort, making Servant and the magus raise their eyebrows at the girl in unspoken askance.
"She's like one of my teachers at school that goes on and on about being a "proper young woman"", she quoted in a faux posh voice, "Mum is clearly offending her delicate sensibilities because of how pretty and cool she is," Iris explained snootily, gesturing at her mother's appearance.
Waver snorted at the explanation. "You seem to have a fan in their smallest, though," he commented, looking at Medusa who was smiling fondly at her daughter, then rolled her eyes at his remark.
With some amount of trepidation, they stepped through and found themselves on another platform filled with people in robes. The gleaming red steam-powered train in pristine condition certainly made an impression.
Iris saw Ivy walk up to the piece from a bygone era, leaning in to examine her own reflection on the polished metal. She blinked at the sight, but her sister was gone as soon as her eyelids opened back up.
Ivy had suddenly gone radio silent a few days after their trip to the Clock Tower, which left her feeling particularly lonely and worried, so much so that she asked Waver to check if there were still two souls in her, which she still had. She's become rather regretful for taking her sister's quiet company for granted, thinking that she would at least have Ivy with her at Hogwarts. Her only reassurance was catching sight of her in her perception every now and then alongside fluctuations of magical energy, which signaled that Ivy was working on...something, whatever it was.
As they walked, the witch looked on enviously at the other kids with their parents and relatives. After she had been adopted, she fervently adapted to having Medusa and Waver as her parents and consciously-subconsciously imitating them, trying to make up for all the lost time she could have spent with them. Iris grew into trusting her own strength under her mother's guidance and flourished academically under Waver's tutoring - but even so, she only had two years in comparison to the decade the other kids spent with their family.
It felt so unfair.
Her pessimistic introspection however was short-lived, interrupted by the whistle of the train that would be leaving shortly. She walked up to one of the doors of the train wagons that would take her away from the only people she felt safe around.
The Gorgon sighed, turning around to face her family.
"This is it, I guess."
"Come now, you're acting as if you're walking to the gallows," the magus tried for a joke.
"...I'll miss you," Iris said, voice cracking as she did.
Medusa again smiled fondly at her daughter, kissing her on the forehead before moving in for a tight hug, petting her head and brushing through her rose-colored hair like all those times she had to comfort Iris after a nightmare. As the two embraced, the younger Gorgon took in the scent of the sea, aged paper and the metallic tang that she later on identified as blood - a mixture she's come to associate with safety and comfort.
"Remember to blink often," her mother reminded her teasingly, making Iris roll her eyes. Anyone else but those in the know would be befuddled by the odd reminder, but it was specifically necessary for Iris, who seemed to have little need for blinking as a side effect of her Mystic Eyes. It was one of the small things that didn't help her ability to socialize as people found her unblinking gaze rather unnerving.
With great reluctance, she eventually let go, turning to Waver and hugging him as well. The magus who ruffled her hair on the other hand, had the scent of ink, parchment and tobacco that filled her with calm and determination.
"I know you can just relay to me as well through your mother, but write every now and then, would you?"
"I'll do my best," she promised her teacher and mentor, making the corners of his mouth lift a little higher than before. It was both an answer and a promise to not hold back in her studies.
With that, the train whistle blew again, signalling imminent departure. Iris quickly hefted her trunk and climbed into a wagon with a parting smile.
The two lingered, watching the train steadily accelerate. Medusa watched as the person her life revolved around since she was summoned two years ago was carried away, struggling with more unfamiliar emotions budding within her that she couldn't name. She knew this was for the best so Iris can grow both magically and as a person, but the faint ache in her chest made her pause.
Suddenly, she felt arms wrapped around her waist, and she looked down to see lavender tresses and ruby eyes smiling up at her before disappearing as fast she appeared.
The mother blinked, looking back at the departing train and smiled wistfully.
"Take care of each other," she whispered.
~~o0o~~
Iris watched the cityscape gradually slip by through the windows as she walked, more interested in the wagon's construction than actually finding a cabin to stay in. Shirou's attempts at trying to teach her his variant of Structural Analysis hadn't really gone anywhere. She brushed her hand against the walls, frames and fixtures, trying to glimpse any sort of information beyond the blueprint of the things she scanned, briefly wondering if she could have been able to tell its age more accurately if she had a history book on train interior design.
As she was about to walk by an occupied cabin, the information she got from her scan made her pause and look back in mild alarm.
The screws of that particular rack's right side were very strained, making Iris doubt that it would hold out the entire day without falling on someone and possibly hurting someone.
The mage peered in, seeing some girls in robes, two of whom were helping each other put their trunks on the rack with visible strain. She briefly glanced at the blonde and brunette before fixing her gaze on the luggage rack's fixture on the side facing the door...which was already halfway separated from the wall.
The rose-haired girl moved in tandem with the crack of its complete separation, leaving her trunk behind to rush into the cabin, one hand catching the luggage and the other on the rack. Acting quickly, Iris moved it back to its previous position and fused it to the wall with a bit of subtle Alteration and Reinforcement, then pushed the luggage on it, slowly removing her hands in a show of wariness over anything falling again.
"Are you alright?" she asked, turning to see the blonde with icy blue eyes, blinking owlishly at her.
It was at that point when she became aware of the looks she was getting from everyone present, some rather unkind.
"Uh, sorry about that. I-it looked like it was going to fall on you two for a second. I'll-I'll just be going then," she stammered sheepishly before retreating into the corridor and hurrying off.
Finally finding an empty compartment, Iris threw her luggage under the seats and slumped on them, sighing as she shook her head.
Trying not to think about the encounter that made her social awkwardness apparent once more, she instead unzipped her satchel and took out one of the wizarding books she picked up and her notebook, skimming over her notes on magecraft she made in the past few weeks first.
A week after her trip to the Clock Tower, her Mum, Waver and Kiritsugu finally returned with a small albino girl in tow, blinking owlishly at everything as if seeing everything for the first time, but Iris could barely so much as exchange a smile and a wave of the hand with her before they picked up Shirou with little fanfare and the Emiyas left for Japan. Something about being so close to the Tower not being safe after the altercation with the Einzberns. Or Europe in general.
Shortly after, Melvin also arrived, oblivious to the fact that Iris was able to relay everything that happened to Medusa through telepathic link, and promptly got skinned alive by Iris' parents (only metaphorically, of course, but it was apparent that it wasn't far from being literal) for bringing her to the Tower and putting her into danger. While Waver was glad to learn that Melvin managed to motivate Iris to attend Hogwarts, upon learning the motivation itself his face took on that pained expression that he always wore when he had to deal with an unreasonable situation.
The conversations where the fact that she was a witch was brought up began to irk Iris. The resentment built up, which led to Iris eventually blowing up at her uncle, much to his dismay. She may have a Core, but she wasn't some deplorable wand-waving spellcaster that wastes magical energy on something as menial as cooking, dammit! She was a magus too, if an apprenticing one!
Waver reacted by looking at her skeptically to his own detriment, but managed to mollify her by agreeing that there is more to being a magus or a witch than Circuit Composition, as it was more of a matter of upbringing than anything else. He also begrudgingly promised that the only context in which he'll call her a witch, if he does, was in the one of Circuit Composition and none of the other connotations.
She may be going to attend Hogwarts, but she'll never really be a witch.
Since, she's been feverishly studying both magecraft and since Waver finally relented on the topic, the factions that governed the Moonlit World, such as the Mage's Association and the Church, with more focus on the former's structure of organisation - and finally, the relationship between Moonlit World and the Wizarding World, or the lack of one, which had been gnawing at the back of Iris' mind for a while even though it hadn't really crystallized into that question.
Originally, there was no significance given to the differentiation between having a Magic Core and Circuits. It was merely one of the possible Compositions your Circuits could have, treated with the same attitude as having a physique more suited to heavy lifting or being agile. The terms Wizard, Witch, Mage, Magus were used interchangeably. It was all the same in the eyes of the mundane person, anyways.
That began to change roughly around the 6th century at the advent of the Mage's Association when the last vestiges of the Age of Gods were fading in Britain, and the physical and cultural differences between groups became apparent.
It was concluded that those with conventional Magic Circuits, now called Mages or Magi, were the ones who initiated the gathering that resulted in the Schism in order to address the weakening of Thaumaturgy. It was proposed that anyone capable of performing it should distance themselves from society and that Magic should become a secret only known by themselves.
Those who are commonly referred to as witches or wizards today, excused themselves from the event. Their Magic Cores, as a result of having Phantasmal Beings in their ancestry, allowed them to be affected by Gaia a great deal less than those without. Thus, they were unconcerned with the magi's issues and went on with their lives after the magi secreted themselves away, who then surreptitiously erased evidence of their existence and their Magical Foundations.
There were proposals of simply killing the witches off to ensure total secrecy, but the risk of further exposing Magic to the world in the conflict were deemed too high. And well, if someone had to deal with the magical children popping up among the mundane people and weaken their Magical Foundation in sharing it to them, they'd rather it be the witches.
Of course, the magi attempted to transfer or develop the same advantage that the witches had into themselves, only to find out that those with Magic Cores were always physically incompatible with the family's magus-made Magic Crest, thus would be unable fulfill one of the most important tasks: pass it on so the heir may continue your work. This information spread like wildfire and means were quickly developed to do away with any potential of birthing a child with a Core.
Eventually, magi fell into obscurity, their only legacy left in the Wizarding World surviving in the form of stories about madmen told around the campfire, boogeymen meant to scare children.
Iris huffed, closing her spiral notebook with a dull clap, placing it back in her satchel and picking up Tales of Beedle the Bard, curious if she'll find a story about boogeymen magi when she heard her compartment door open.
"Excuse me, have you seen a...toad?" asked a bushy-haired brunette.
"Er, no, I have not," Iris responded, looking up from her book.
The two blinked at each other for a long moment, trying to place the familiarity.
"It's you! The girl from the Charnel Lane Library!" they both exclaimed at once, one more enthusiastically than the other.
"What a coincidence! You're going to Hogwarts too? Wait, wasn't your hair more...red the last time I saw you? Like crimson?" the girl noted, eyeing the other's hair.
"Ah, that was just a glamour," Iris explained awkwardly, "Red was more believable than my actual hair color."
"Ohhh. So you already knew about magic! I'm so envious! I didn't know about it until my letter came, my parents are just dentists. Your parents must be magical, then?"
'Not in the way you think they are, no, but' "...Yeah."
"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, I don't think we've ever really introduced ourselves," she said, extending her hand.
"Iris Rider," she introduced herself, briefly shaking it.
"Pleasure. Anyway, I have a toad to find," the witch said, but didn't move to leave, biting her lip instead. "Would...would you mind if I sat with you afterwards?"
"Not at all." At this, Hermione smiled and turned to leave.
This had to be the most successful social interaction with others her age in Iris' recent memory. She didn't even need Ivy's help for it!
"Wait," Iris called out, "Ask one of the sixth or seventh years. They probably know a spell that would do the job."
"Oh! Good idea, I'll ask," the brunette replied before she left.
Iris didn't really have much of a chance to skim through two stories before her head full of bushy hair popped back in.
"Wow, they really did have a spell for finding the boy's toad! How did you know?"
'Because god forbid witches actually get up and do something themselves without wasting prana.' Given her impressions of their culture so far, the Gorgon was willing to bet that they made a spell for every single common problem.
"I didn't. I just thought it would be useful if there was a spell for it, so there probably was one," she replied with a...different interpretation of what she was thinking.
"I suppose that makes sense," The other witch hummed as she carried her trunk in, "You were right, after all. What are you reading?" she asked, curious.
In response, the rose-haired girl simply held up the book so the other could see the cover.
Hermione's brows jumped to her hairline. "Tales of Beedle The Bard? Isn't that a children's book?"
"I just...always found legends and such very interesting. Thought I'd check out what the wizarding ones were like."
"I thought your parents were magical?"
"They are, but," the rosette paused, racking her brain for her cover story, "It's just me, Mum and my uncle. Mum is from Greece, and doesn't really know about the british stuff. My uncle is a muggleborn so he wasn't raised with magic either," she explained, "So I know about magic, I read some books, but I'm just as new to this world as you are, really."
Hermione hummed, thoughtful.
Right after, there was a knock on their compartment door that was opened by a plump woman with a pleasant smile, holding onto a cart with an assortment of food and snacks, each with an assigned price tag.
"Anything off the trolley, girls?"
"Oh! A Cauldron Cake and a...Chocolate Frog, please," Iris asked, seeing there were no Blood Pops. "Hermione, do you want anything? My treat," she offered, seeing the other girl's hesitance.
"Uhm, it's kind of you, but my parents wouldn't approve anyways," she tried to wave it off.
"Come now, Hermione. Think of it as..." the rose-haired girl paused, trying to think of an excuse, "Learning about wizarding culture. There's magic on the Frogs, too!" she tried to appeal to the girl's curiosity.
The brunette remained hesitant for a few moments, but gave in. "...I'll have a Chocolate Frog too, then."
Iris internally fist pumped as she handed over the sickles to the lunch lady and took the sweets, giving one of them to Hermione.
"Careful, don't let it get away," she advised offhandedly as she opened her own pack, not noticing that it was making the bushy-haired witch - "...let it get away?" - look at her in concern.
The rosette held the package up on her palm and flicked the cover off with her thumb, revealing the animated contents. It blinked and moved as though it was looking around, then jumped with a twitch to Hermione's surprise. To her greater surprise however, Iris' other hand blurred and - "Gotcha!" - caught it out of the air, putting it in her mouth with the same motion.
The witch looked down at the package in her hands and slowly took off the cover, just enough to see her own chocolate frog blink back at her; and slammed it right back down. Iris watched with bemusement as the small box rattled in her hand. She decided to take pity on the girl and told her that she can dispel the animation by turning the cover clockwise once, and was rewarded with a grateful look.
"The packages come with a collectible card, by the way," she nodded towards the packaging still in Hermione's hand.
"Oh! I got...Circe? Circe was a witch in Ancient Greece, well known for her skills in human transfiguration..."
The Gorgon listened with half an ear as the brunette read the description as she checked what card she got, and laughed out loud at Hermione's flavor text, catching the muggleborn's attention again.
"What's so funny?" she asked with genuine curiosity.
"I-it's the picture," Iris lied, still snickering, "There's no way Merlin looked anywhere close to this," she handed her card to the puzzled girl, which showed an elderly wizard with a long, white beard and a wooden staff.
"How so?"
"Merlin was a half-incubus. He'd be much too proud to let himself be known as anything but young, handsome and attractive."
"But...none of the books I've read mentioned something like that."
"I mean, that's a little weird, but that's something everyone probably knows already. Even the mundane records and stories mention it."
The witch hummed. "Then why do they show him like this in the cards if it's inaccurate?" she asked, annoyance tinged in her tone.
At this, the mage was brought up short. "...I don't know. Maybe this is just how people think powerful wizards look like, even if facts say otherwise," she mused.
Her musing however was interrupted by another instance of her compartment door being opened.
"I am looking for Harry Potter. Have you seen him?" asked a blonde boy with aristocratic demeanor.
Iris sucked in a breath, her talk with Mum came to the forefront of her mind, some days before this.
...
"Are you Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived?" Medusa asked, interrupting her daughter's rambling about how much the Boy-Who-Lived ideation was frustrating her and how people are going to look for him.
"No!" came the knee-jerk reaction.
"Then what does it have anything to do with you?"
She stilled, processing the elder Gorgon's point.
"...not much, really."
"Then there you have it," she said, patting Iris' head, "And even if you do know something, it's none of anyone's business, is it?"
...
"No, we haven't," she replied as evenly as she could. As far as she was concerned, they were looking for a fictional character. "Why are you looking for him?" Iris asked conversationally.
The blonde sneered. "So I can teach him to associate with the right sort, of course. It wouldn't do for him to be seen with the likes of you mudbloods. Come on, Crabbe, Goyle," he spat disdainfully before taking off.
Iris silently thanked the dead gods that Waver found her when he did. She dodged a bullet by managing to avoid being associated with the Root-forsaken Boy-Who-Lived thing.
Hermione blinked, baffled.
"Well that was just rude! Who does that boy think he is?" she exclaimed indignantly. "And what does "mudblood" even mean?"
"Uh, e-excuse me?" a voice asked timidly.
The girls turned to see a round-faced boy with short blonde hair, his body language the polar opposite of the one just before.
"Oh, hey Neville!" greeted Hermione.
"Hey. Thanks for helping me find my toad," he paused, swallowing, "M-mind if I sit with you?"
"Oh, go ahead! I mean, if it's alright with you, Iris?" she asked awkwardly, visibly relaxing as the other girl gestured to her to go ahead.
The boy meekly introduced himself as Neville Longbottom. 'And the socially awkward trifecta is complete,' Iris thought to herself ruefully. It was times like these that she really missed her sister's presence.
"Um, Neville? You're wizard-raised, right?" Hermione asked, "A rude boy that just passed by called us "mudbloods". Do you know what that means?"
At this, Neville quietly gasped, before answering, "I-it's a disgusting way to call a muggleborn. It means you have dirty blood and that they think you shouldn't have magic at all," he explained.
Hermione gasped as well. "But why would they say something like that?"
The blonde's brows furrowed, trying to come up with an explanation.
"P-pureblood families who didn't marry with muggles and muggleborns for many generations think that they're inherently superior because of it," he said, pausing, "and that muggleborns are somehow stealing "their" magic. Which isn't true, of course," he added hastily.
The Gorgon hummed thoughtfully as a faint memory resurfaced. "I remember my Uncle Kerry saying something about a civil war that happened ten years ago and wizard nazis," she added.
Iris listened intently to Neville's attempts to mollify an outraged Hermione who was coming to grips with the fact that bigotry existed in the wizarding world, realizing that she should've researched in advance to fit in better. Unfortunately, at the time she was too preoccupied with the fact that she probably won't have as much opportunity to research magecraft as much she had at home.
As much as she wanted to pick Neville's brain about the topic, she felt that the other two wouldn't find it interesting from an academic standpoint.
"So what did you think of Diagon Alley?" she asked once the brunette lost steam.
The two ignored the non-sequitur in favor of using the chance to move on to a more pleasant topic of conversation.
They chatted, trading impressions about the wizarding world, although it was more the brunette prattling on energetically about how a professor brought her letter and took her shopping. Iris nodded along, adding her own comments where guessed appropriate. She didn't mind, really. It was actually refreshing to see someone so innocent and in awe of the new world they're in. The mage may have her views, but she would have felt guilty if her arguably cynical outlook colored Hermione's any further when she was so obviously excited about learning about the magical world and learning witchcraft. At least one of them should have fun with it.
Plus, she'd be a fool to not see this chance of acquiring an actual friend.
At a certain point, she halted abruptly in the middle of telling about the spells she tried as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, this must be all kind of boring for you to listen to, and you probably know already about those spells too."
"Not really. It's nice to listen to someone so excited about all this," the Gorgon reassured.
Eventually, the conversation petered out and they spent the rest of the trip reading in companionable silence.
Iris thought Ivy would be proud of her socializing feats.
Day gradually turned to night, and the three changed into their school robes, prompted by the voice announcing their imminent arrival and requesting them to leave their luggage on the train as they will be brought separately. Iris checked the Bounded Fields on her trunk once more before following her friends(hopefully) off the train.
...
In another compartment, a blonde girl with icy blue eyes lingered, peering incredulously at the rack that she swore should've fallen on her at the start of the trip. Upon closer inspection, the right side that the rose-haired girl held up looked like it was alchemically fused to the wall. It didn't make any sense.
"Come on!" a voice called after her.
She sighed, finally stepping out to go after her friend. Just as she did, a heavy thud resounded, followed by a metallic clatter. The witch looked back with wide eyes to see the rack hanging off one side and her heavy luggage right at the spot she was standing at moments before, and shuddered. That could've been her in the morning.
"Daph! I don't wanna be last!"
"Coming!" she shouted back, her steps hurried. She looked through the windows, searching for a rose-colored head.
'Who are you?'
...
Iris followed the group led by the hairy giant of a man, who led them to a lakeshore lined with boats.
"No more 'an four to a boat!" he called.
Her train cabin group was joined by a fourth on their boat, a redheaded boy who seemed rather disappointed for some reason.
Brrr. She was not a fan of the sensation of Hogwarts' thousand-year-old wards washing over her, no matter how pretty the castle was. When they reached the other shore and were led up some flights of stairs until they were greeted by a severe-looking woman in a wide brimmed hat and dark green robes, who introduced herself as Deputy Headmistress McGonagall.
"Now, after you go past these doors, the start-of-term banquet shall begin shortly, but first, you will take part in the Sorting Ceremony, to be sorted in one of the four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. For as long as you attend, they shall be something akin to your family."
As the Headmistress went on to explain the point system, Iris recalled briefly touching on the topic of Houses with Neville and Hermione, once again cursing her lack of advance preparation. The brave, the hardworking, the bright and the cunning...it really seemed all rather arbitrary to her, honestly. Anyone can have those traits in different measures, and the stereotyping that was hinted at didn't make the entire thing any more appealing.
When the woman left them to smarten themselves up, the noise level rose exponentially as everyone began theorizing what the Sorting would actually entail. Iris herself favoured staying quiet and listening; there were all sorts of ideas, ranging from some sort of test to fighting a troll, which left her blinking incredulously at the redheaded boy.
Witches can't be that barmy...can they?
She suddenly felt less sure of herself.
Her train of thought was interrupted by some screams when some ghosts floated in above them, who introduced themselves as the House Ghosts. Even with the evidence of their harmlessness in front of her, Iris couldn't help but place her hand on the pommel of her dagger hidden under her robe to keep from being overly tense. She's learned too much of how dangerous Wraiths can be to be awed like the rest of the students.
Thankfully they were shortly led away by the returning Headmistress, into a grand hall with four long tables filled with students, each having a tapestry with its House's motif hanging behind, and a raised dais where the teachers sat.
The greater attraction that captivated everyone however, was the ceiling filled with the night sky and stars.
"The ceiling is bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione whispered, reverently.
Iris bit back a question of why didn't they make a skylight if they wanted to see the sky so much.
The hall fell quiet as the Headmistress placed a stool in front of the dais and a worn, faded white hat with wilted pink flowers on top of it, which to the mage's astonishment opened up and began to sing.
Iris weakly clapped along as its song ended, unable to tell much about what the song was even about. Something about the Houses?
"When I call your name, you are to sit on the stool and put on the Hat to be sorted," McGonagall explained, pulling out a long piece of parchment, and began with "Abbot, Hannah!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted after a few moments.
Iris watched on as the Sorting went on, each student spending a varying amount of time under the hat; at times, but a second, at others it took as much as a minute.
She smiled reassuringly as "Granger, Hermione" and "Neville, Longbottom" were called, both of their robes taking on the red lining as they were sorted into Gryffindor. The one thing she noticed was that the snobbish looking students mostly went into Slytherin.
"Potter, Harry!"
Iris tensed as the hall fell into an anticipatory silence as the Headmistress looked up under the brim of her hat, her blue eyes scanning among the remaining first-years.
Would they recognize her somehow? Is her cover going to be blown anyways?
She relaxed somewhat when the older witch's brows furrowed and checked her list again.
"Go on, Minerva, we shall check shortly if Mr. Potter merely missed the train," a wizard with a long white beard and eye-searing robes that Iris recognized as Headmaster Dumbledore from Neville's chocolate frog card said, loud enough for it to be heard by the students at the front, which then spread to the rest of the students. The Sorting went on, to Iris' great relief.
"Rider, Iris!"
With some trepidation, Iris stepped up, and had the hat put over her eyes.
…
"Ah, I haven't seen this type of mental defenses in a while," she heard the Hat speak into her mind, "You'll have to lift them a little so I can sort you. Don't worry, little mage, I've been practically built with a Geas to be unable to divulge secrets."
Under the brim of the Hat, the rose-haired girl's brows wanted to rise to her hairline.
"You've sorted magi before?"
"Indeed. My handsome creator was one, you know? We do have the occasional magus sent to attend in order to hide or wait out whatever political threat the family was under at the Mage's Association, so they would have a surviving heir should the worst happen, among other reasons," it explained.
She hummed thoughtfully before acquiescing to the hat's wishes.
"Oh my. Truly, a Slytherin-worthy ruse, Miss Potter. And yes, I am a pseudo-personality. My name is Act," the hat said, responding to Iris' unasked questions.
Iris smiled sheepishly. "Nice to meet you. That was my uncle's idea, really. I hadn't even thought of attending at the time."
"Yet, you are able to act the part. Anyways, let's see...plenty of courage, a mind par course for a mage, a willingness to work hard to...oh my, be the first magus with a Core to attend your uncle's classes at the Tower? Now that's what I call ambition! A mite too reckless for Slytherin, though," it said, pausing.
"So? I thought I was going to be more or less a shoe-in for Ravenclaw?"
"One would assume that a mage represents Ravenclaw virtues the best, but even if it would be amusing at first, it would only end up fraying your nerves, making you isolate yourself with how much incorrect information they're throwing around and treating like gospel nowadays. And you would just slowly go mad in Hufflepuff."
"Huh."
"Well it better be...wait, there's two of you in that noggin' of yours, aren't there? Just to be sure, you're the one who's mainly in control, yes?"
The Gorgon gave a mental nod, knowing how to from her conversations with her sister.
"Very well. Oh by the way, there are a lot of hidden rooms scattered around the castle that you can use for your workshop, like the third floor corridor on the right-hand side," it said, with a mischievous undertone Iris was instantly suspicious of towards the end.
"You're welcome. Now off you go, little..."
"GRYFFINDOR!"
With that, Iris took the Hat, handing it to the Headmistress and made her way to the table with the red and gold tapestry, welcomed by Neville and Hermione.
The rest of the few remaining students were sorted in short order and the hall quieted down as the Headmaster clinked his glass and stood.
"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"²
Iris and Hermione blinked with concern at the old man before being distracted by the food that appeared in front of them. Roast chicken and beef, lamb chops, sausages, gravy, mashed potatoes...Iris was partial to most of it, but couldn't help but miss Sooty's Japanese dishes she's recently grown accustomed to at home.
As before, Iris mostly listened to the chatter around her with half an ear, being prodded by Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown about her hair more than enough social interaction for her for the night.
After their dessert finished, Dumbledore stood.
"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the redheaded twins at her table. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." He continued, "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch." Dumbledore paused. "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."²
Iris shrugged at Hermione's look of concern at the last part, saying that her uncle told her it was completely normal for a magical school to have stuff like that going on.
When being led out of the hall by the prefect who introduced himself as Percy Weasley, the mage merely asked "What school song?" with a look of genuine confusion on her face when she was asked why she didn't sing along.
They were led through many staircases, hidden corridors behind tapestries and more staircases, encountering even the local poltergeist, Peeves. By the time they stopped in front of the portrait of the fat lady, even with her training, Iris was somewhat winded after such a long day. 'If they had to hide it behind a portrait, why didn't they at least make a doorway instead of a round hole?' she thought annoyedly.
At least they got a cozy common room for their trouble.
The girls were directed to their own door to a spiral staircase, and found their beds on the top. Iris recognized her own trunk in the room and was relieved to find that it wasn't tampered with.
Hearing some grunting, she looked up to see Hermione pulling her trunk upright. Taking pity on the exhausted girl, Iris wordlessly stepped over and picked up the brunette's trunk with her left as she hefted her own with her right, picking Hermione's to be next to her own, closer to the door. She smiled at the witch's grateful look as the other girls with a different...temperament to their own picked the beds on the other side of the room.
Within minutes, everyone clambered into their pajamas and beds, exhausted.
As she lay on her bed with the curtains drawn, the Gorgon sighed, resolving to put the Fields on her bed tomorrow instead. Considering what else she would have to do the next day, Iris suddenly cursed under her breath.
Who was she going to spar with?
"I'm glad you asked that question, dear sister!" a familiar voice exclaimed in her head.
Iris suddenly felt as though she fell into herself, blacking out for a few moments before she somehow felt grass under her feet.
She opened her eyes to see her sister looking at her with mirth in her eyes, an endless expanse of grassy fields behind her.
"Ivy? Where've you been?" Iris asked in mild alarm.
"Working on a project. You see, since I didn't have a body of my own, I thought that at least my thoughts should be well organized, so I started working on a mindscape. I found some weird memories I didn't know I had and I got...busy," she said, her expression becoming sheepish.
The rose-haired girl hummed in acknowledgement, still at a loss for words. "It looks kind of...empty," she commented in lieu of an answer, looking around.
At this, the lavender haired girl simply gestured behind her.
She turned around, and was met with the gates of a grand fortress of white and blue marble.
Ivy chuckled as her sister gaped, then started dragging her by the arm to the gates that were slowly opening up.
"Come! There is a training hall within. I have to admit that between us two, mother's style suits you much more than I, but on the other hand, I find that I am quite partial to the longsword," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye.
¹ type moon wiki - Magic Circuits, Fate/side material
² Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone