Books were sprawled out across her bed, and in the middle of them all, Harriet peered over the parchment along with the diary she was writing up her final notes in regarding both the prospect of time travel, as well as the rudimentary wards she was trying to make to avert prying eyes from looking just a bit too closely at her work there.

A new trunk was propped open at the base of her bed, the deep green leather and silver fastenings having long since called to her. For all that she was having doubts about both becoming a Slytherin at Hogwarts as well as actually being an actual Slytherin in name, the colour scheme was calling to her. That had been an acquisition of her second non official shopping trip, which was namely because she had forgotten to get a few bits on her first non official trip. The consequences of not making a list of what she needed before venturing out to get her things.

At least she knew better for next time. Along with the fact that she really needed to improve her handwriting from the chicken scratch it was if she actually wanted to be able to read what she had written even only hours after she had written her notes. Scratching at her head, Harriet scowled, flicking open a new book. The contents page helped her out, and she immediately went onto the section regarding reversing a runic array – which was definitely beyond a third-year's understanding, given how that topic was only even mildly brushed upon in that higher-level textbook that she couldn't quite work out.

From the ground up. That was how she needed to work, and yet she also needed to know what the runic circle looked like if she wanted to be able to reverse it and get back to her present in the future, then she needed to remember that runic circle which had been burnt into the grass in that field.

Standing then, a bolt of nervousness flooding through her—because what if she splinched herself and got the ministry involved yet again when she was supposed to be living quietly. "Think," Harriet muttered. "I need a plan," she added, beginning to pace. She could apparate to the field. That was likely her only option, given she didn't know how many fields there were in Chippenham, and she was limited in the time she had on her hands. It wasn't like she could stay there forever, what with how the area might have been monitored for magical activity. But then again people had presumed she and her dead parents had been running from Grindelwald, so them teaching her how to apparate away from danger shouldn't raise too many eyebrows. To others she was a clueless child, and that was the card she was going to have to play should anyone discover her illegal apparition.

Relaxing somewhat, Harriet readied the image of her destination in her head. Merlin, was this what it was like to have a plan? A smile curved at her lips. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad being a Slytherin, perhaps in both house and name. She twisted on her feet, the familiar feeling rushing through her, and then wind blew through her long dark locks and she was outside.

A familiar burnt circle of runic symbols lay before her, and Harriet sat down, pulled out her writing materials, and got to work in drawing multiple copies of the runic circle before her. Her handwriting and drawing skills weren't the best, but they were going to have to do – because somehow she doubted the runes were going to happily wait for her in that field.

Eyebrows knotting together in concentration, she weighed her parchment down, conjured a flat tray of sorts to work on, relaxing only marginally when there came no letter to berate her for daring to perform magic outside of school. She had almost forgotten, and part of her reminded her that she couldn't really afford to make too many mistakes anymore. It was a stupid mistake. If she was expelled or otherwise brought under suspicion then she would have no idea what to do. Certainly, she was undoubtedly financially secure, but that was about it.

She was a girl out of her time.

A low breath escaped her, even as she focused on accomplishing her task as quickly as humanly possible and getting herself back to the Gryphon's Roost before anyone noticed her absence. Something tingled on her tongue, another burst of soft, ghostly laughter making her shiver and wrap her meagre amount of clothing tighter around her. Had she ordered a warmer coat? She was already wearing her black coat with silver fastenings, as was required for the Hogwarts dress, but the temperature was only going to get colder, and she was already shivering in the warmest clothing she had – at least until Twilfitt and Tattings sent her the other clothes she had ordered. They were due the next day, and Harriet couldn't wait to have something of a fuller wardrobe once more. A clothes enthusiast she might not be – despite Lavender's desperate attempts – but she liked to have a few options to wear. Well, options which weren't Dudley's old castoffs or other more girly castoffs which Petunia had procured from who knew where.

"Ssspeaker."

Harriet almost leapt out of her skin, a shrill shriek escaping her even as parchment, quill, and ink scattered across the grass behind her. Green eyes darted about frantically, locking on the sleek, silvery, scaled body winding through the thick grass.

"You are here, Ssspeaker," the snake whispered, the rasping, familiar sounds of parseltongue washing over her, along with the male edge to the voice which told her all she needed to know about its sex. One of the many joys of being a parselmouth.

Backpeddling frantically, Harriet was half relieved to find that her notes hadn't been ruined in the surprise and confusion of it all, and the other half was busy panicking because there was a bloody large snake in the grass less than a metre away. A snake which had snuck up on her for one reason or another, and a snake which was undeniably magical, if the crystal on his forehead and the chalky white horns curving from the back of his head were anything to go off of. "W-what do you want?" she demanded, feeling alarmingly off kilter because the last snake she had seen had been Nagini, and it was safe to say that she and Nagini did not get on. Famously so.

"Massster told me to come here and find Ssspeaker, ssso come here I did," the snake spoke, silvery scales glinting in the light. Silvery green slitted eyes blinked, a dark pink tongue darting out from behind two deadly, sharp, and – knowing her luck – likely venomous teeth. "Ssspeaker will be my Missstresss, he sssays." Harriet stilled at that, the more logical part of her brain telling her to calm down, and she revelled in it. Once upon a time she was fairly certain she hadn't the slightest bit of logic inside that thick skull of hers.

"Master?" she parroted, swallowing thickly, because she knew all too well who Nagini's master had been. Yet this was a new snake, with a new master. At least with Voldemort she had been certain of his motives and his intents. "Who is your master?"

"Cannot sssay," the snake murmured, sounding almost reluctant. "Massster's orderss overrule Missstresss' commandss, for he sssees all, but I am to ssserve Missstresss asss well asss I am capable…" The snake flicked its tail, moving forwards, edging ever closer to her, and something told Harriet he would not be deterred.

Besides she was Aletris Cassiopeia Slytherin now. Or she was supposed to be. She hadn't quite gotten around to reading that strange book about true names and taken names, what with her frantic runes research taking up most of her attention. Though whether she had read that book or not, she was somehow a Slytherin, and they were undoubtedly associated with the symbol of the serpent.

"I don't suppose you'll leave if I ask you to," Harriet muttered, earning herself a vigorous head shake, followed by a snake coiling around her body, wrapping around her torso determinedly.

"Missstresss," her new scaled friend hissed, and Harriet closed her eyes and silently accepted her fate as her new snake's owner, or Mistress, as the snake seemed inclined to call her.

"Right," Harriet mumbled. "But don't you think you're just a bit too… conspicuous… I can hardly take you to Hogwarts with me – for one, I'm fairly sure you're venomous, and I don't think the school will be—"

"Where Missstresss goes, I follow," the snake declared, and a tightening embrace had her nodding frantically. She didn't particularly want to be squeezed to death by a snake.

"Okay, okay!" Harriet said. "But don't blame me when we get caught."

Harriet blinked, and then the snake was no longer there. Or not. She could still feel the snake there, wrapped around her body, but he was no longer visible. "Won't catch usss," her new snake spoke, sounding so insufferably smug.

"Oh," was all Harriet had to say to that. "Well, I have some work to do… you're welcome to stay, I guess, seeing as how I don't think I'll be able to get rid of you anytime soon," she muttered, blinking as she heard a hissing chuckle. It was a sound of amusement either way, and Harriet only wondered what her life had come to for her to be joking with a snake, of all things.

She had never really used her parselmouth skills much before.

It seemed that was going to change, or so she mused to herself as she stroked the head of her new friend, marvelling at the odd pattern which almost seemed to be carved in his neck – if snake's had a neck that was. Three parallel lines with a strange crisscross pattern between them. Though it didn't seem as though it hurt, going by her snake's lack of reaction.

Harriet tilted her head, silently wondering when her scaled friend beside her had gone from the snake to her snake. She shook her head, avoiding the silent question of why her life had become what it had – because the answer to that still irritated her and she had absolutely no idea why the killing curse had sent her back in time.

Yet another fantastical, bizarre day in the life of Harriet Potter, Harriet Evans, or perhaps Aletris Cassiopeia Slytherin.

She wasn't entirely sure what to call herself anymore.