A/N I Own Nothing
Ao3 – Once_Upon_A_Potter
"Longbottom!" Hailey yelled, making her way to the Gryffindor table the next morning, after a very restless night.
"Potter." Longbottom returned civilly, looking up from where he had been speaking to Weasley.
"I wanted to talk to you." Hailey told him, glancing at Weasley, "Alone."
Longbottom stood from the table.
"Neville!" Weasley exclaimed, eyebrows raised, "What are you doing? She's the enemy!"
"She also has ears." Hailey told him. "And is standing right here."
"It'll be fine Ron." Longbottom told him, before turning to Hailey. "Lead the way."
"Wha-?" Weasley sputtered, as they walked away from him. "Neville! You can't just leave with Potter, of all people! She's a Slytherin!"
"Thank you, Ron." Longbottom called over his shoulder, "But I had already noticed."
The two first years came to a stop just outside the Great Hall. Standing in the corner, several feet away from the door.
"About last night," Hailey started, only to be interrupted.
"Don't worry," Longbottom told her, parroting the man from Hailey's memory the night before. "Your secret's safe with me."
"I-" Hailey hesitated, scrutinizing the other first year, before nodding. "Thank you, Longbottom."
She turned on her heel, intending to walk away. There were, after all, other conversations that needed to happen that morning.
"Wait. Potter?" Longbottom called out, she turned to face him once again, a questioning look on her face. "If you want, my gran has studied old magic herself, I could see if she would owl some of the books to me."
"That would be helpful." Hailey told him, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. "Thank you."
xXx
"So," Hailey said, sitting at the Gryffindor table in front of Granger, ignoring the several other students that glared, as they quickly scooted away from her. "We need to talk."
The other girl glanced up at her, and away from the book she had had her nose buried in. "Oh?"
"Come on." Hailey told her, standing from the table and gesturing her Granger to do the same.
"Oi!" Weasley called as Granger did just that, "You can't just go with her, Hermione!"
"And why not?" Granger asked her fellow Gryffindor flatly.
"She's well, you know…" Weasley trailed off.
"She's a snake." Finnigan butt in, leaning in closer to Hermione to whisper, "She could be lurin' ya in. Ya could go with her just to find yaself hexed."
Hermione looked between her house mates, she knew she was a Gryffindor and Potter a Slytherin. But she also hoped that the other girl might have answers as to what had happened to Hermione the night before. Maybe that's what Potter wanted to talk to her about.
Or, maybe the two boys were right, and she would just find trouble.
"Are you coming?" Hailey asked, when Granger stopped to listen to Finnigan.
"Coming!" Granger exclaimed, shoving her book into her bookbag.
"Hermione!" Weasley called after them, as Hailey led the Gryffindor out of the Great Hall.
xXx
Hermione fidgeted as she followed the Slytherin out of the Great Hall. They had been walking for several minutes, and before she knew it, they were near the Third floor.
Against her will, the image of the huge three headed dog flashed through her mind.
Ron and Seamus were right.
She was going to get herself hexed.
Maybe Hermione should have just approached Diggory. He had been there as well, and seemed to had an idea of what had happened. And he's a Hufflepuff. Not a Slytherin.
The Slytherin girl stopped walking abruptly, turning to face Hermione.
"Sorry about that." The Slytherin told her, "Didn't think you'd want an audience."
Well, at least Hermione would be saved the humiliation of getting cursed in front of the whole school. Though, if they had stayed in the Great Hall, at least the professors would have been able to interfere.
"About last night." Potter started, and Hermione perked up, "Has that happened before?"
Hermione deflated slightly. "I don't even know what that was."
Potter sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "You turned into a creature called a Bastet. They turn every night at midnight. Had it happened to you before last night?"
Eyes wide, Hermione shook her head. Did that mean it would happen again? Was she doomed to turn into whatever that had been? Every night? Would it be for the rest of her life?
"I don't know. Possibly?" Potter hummed, and Hermione blushed as she realized she had spoken those questions aloud. "Normally, you or one of your family members would have had to have angered a… witch… or wizard… to the point of them cursing you."
"Cursed?" Hermione asked shrilly. "I'm cursed?"
"Not necessarily!" Potter exclaimed quickly. "That's not what I said."
"You implied it!"
"No. I just said that is normally the case." Hailey told her, neglecting to mention that normally, in this case, means ninety-nine point nine percent of the time. "For now, though, we need to figure out what to do in case you do change again."
xXx
Neville, it would turn out, wouldn't hear back from his gran for several days. His gran's owl would come swooping in with the rest of the owls that morning, bearing a letter and package tied to its talon.
The letter had been short and to the point,
'This book is being entrusted to your friend by an ally of our family.
Make sure it is treated well.'
Neville couldn't help himself, when he was in the dormitory, curtains pulled shut around his bed, he peaked into the package. Inside was an old, tattered, leather bound book, that looked as though it should be falling apart at the binding, the metal latch holding the book closed was rusted slightly. The pages were yellowed, the words not in any language Neville recognized.
Except for one word on the front cover of the book. In neat calligraphy was the name; Merlyn.
Neville stared at the name for a moment, before shrugging, closing the book, and putting it back in the package it had been sent in.
He would have to remember to pass it on to Potter the next day.
xXx
"Seems you're a hero." The elderly man told Merlyn, as he came into her room, carrying a book wrapped in cloth.
"Hard to believe, isn't it?" Merlyn asked, grin creeping onto her lips.
"No." The man disagreed. "I knew it from the moment I met you, when you saved my life. Remember?"
"But…" Merlyn hesitated. "That was magic."
The man nodded. "And now, it would seem we have found its purpose."
"What do you mean?"
"I saw how you saved Arthur's life." The man informed her.
"Oh, no." she groaned, feeling as though she knew where this was going.
"Perhaps," the man hedged, "That is it's purpose."
Merlyn sighed in resignation, "My destiny."
"Indeed," The man agreed. "This book was given to me when I was younger," the man continued, holding the book out to the girl, and watching as she unlatched the latch, and started flipping through the pages. "But I have the feeling it will be of more use to you than it ever was to me."
Merlyn snorted in disbelief, before glancing up at the man through dark bangs, "But this is a book of magic."
"Exactly why you must keep it hidden."
"Potter!" Longbottom exclaimed, waving a hand in front of her eyes.
Hailey jolted, looking at her classmate. She sighed. "Thank you, Longbottom."
"Neville." Longbottom corrected, as she turned to leave.
"What?" Hailey muttered, turning back around to look at him.
"You can call me Neville."
"Thank you , Neville." Hailey told him, "I guess that means you can call me Hailey." She continued, turning to leave.
"Wait!" Neville rushed to say.
Hailey sighed. What now? She turned to look at him again.
"I just wanted to-" Neville started, just to cut himself off. "You might not want to be seen with that book. Old Religion magic, so few people can use it now, that it's seen as a dark magic. You could get in trouble just for looking at a book like that one."
Hailey stared at her classmate dubiously, they were eleven, what kind of 'trouble' would they really get in. "…Alright." She murmured finally, spinning on heel to walk away.
Merlyn should have known the day had been too calm. She had just finished up the wash, and had been returning it to Arthur's chambers, basket balanced on her hip.
"You." A Knight demanded, pulling a man aside.
She had initially tuned out the knight interrogating a civilian, but when she heard a boy's voice begging someone to 'please help me.' Her eyes found a boy of only eight or nine years, blue eyes and dark hair, wearing a green cloak, and staring directly at her.
"Have you seen a boy?" The knight continued.
'They're searching for me.' The boy explained, but his lips didn't move.
'Why? Why are they searching for you?'
'They're going to kill me!' The boy rushed out in a panic, specks of gold entering his eyes.
Hailey had barely made it three steps, before sighing in resignation, and once again turning back around to face Neville. "What kind of trouble are we talking about here?"
"Well…" Neville started, before shuffling to stand closer to her to speak more quietly, "You might end up spending your life in Azkaban."
"Azkaban?" Hailey questioned, eyebrow raised.
"It's the wizarding prison." Neville explained, fidgeting with his hands.
"So, if I, an eleven year old girl, gets caught with a book on old religion magic, I might, might, end up spending some time in this wizarding prison." Hailey stated, sure that she had understood wrongly.
"Azkaban." Neville told her, "The wizarding prison, it's Azkaban."
"…Right." Hailey said, dubiously, giving Neville a single nod in return.
"Gran says, if you're lucky, they would just have you kissed and be done with it." At Hailey's look of confusion, Neville elaborated, "The guards in Azkaban, if they kiss you, they can suck out your soul." There was a pause. "At least that's what Gran says."
Hailey stared at the Gryffindor. What kind of guards…?
Distant footsteps could be heard in the distance, slowly getting nearer and nearer, before Professor Quirrell came stumbling by the alcove the two first years had stopped to talk in, he stopped and stared when he noticed them.
"We were just…" Hailey started, looking up into the professor's unnaturally electric blue eyes, "Just… heading to the… the Great Hall for breakfast."
The Professor glanced down at the book Hailey was holding, and she quickly covered it up, hoping he hadn't actually seen what it was. He smirked.
"Who would have thought." The professor muttered, stutter nowhere to be heard. "You. Able to use the old magic." He looked her up and down, "And a lot of it, too."
Professor and student made eye contact. Then he blinked, eyes going back to their normal baby blues.
"A-ah, yes." The professor stuttered, "B-b-breakfast. M-most important m-meal of the d-day."
xXx
He shivered as the dementors passed by his cell, tracking the cloaked figures with his eyes, as they lingered outside the cell across diagonally from him.
As if on cue, prisoner ninety-three started wailing, scrambling back into the corner of her cell.
He could only listen as prisoner ninety-three wailed for hours about… Ravens, was it, this time? He didn't know, it was always something different.
But, prisoner three hundred ninety thought, as he stared across at prisoner ninety-three through the bars on their cells, his cousin had always been a bit… unhinged.
xXx
"What was this dream about?" the elderly physician asked the green eyed, dark haired, young woman.
"A bird." The young woman shivered violently.
"What kind of bird." The old man pried.
"A raven." The woman answered, thinking back to the dream that had woken her.
"A raven?" the old man asked, eyebrow raising slightly.
"It was terrifying!" The woman cried, "What do you think it means?"
"Probably nothing." The old man tried futilely to assure her.
"It's happening again, isn't it?" The woman asked hysterically, fear filling her voice.