throw away the key (i dare you)

by iamlongstockings

Going to Hogwarts School had always been her dream, but raised a squib, it had always remained firmly out of reach, until one day an owl lands on the windowsill carrying a letter with her name on it. Thrust into a world she's only read about, Rapunzel feels more alone than ever until she meets Hiccup, Merida and Jack, three students who are as lonely as she is. Big Four at Hogwarts

4. Lost Causes

Updated November 29, 2021

---

"I'm sorry, did he say death?" Rapunzel asked, glancing apprehensively towards their white-robed Headmaster, who was settling back into his seat at the extravagantly decorated teacher's table on the dais.

Around them, the hall erupted into a flurry of whispers and motion. More plates of food appeared on the tables, offering a splendiferous assortment of foods, the likes of most Rapunzel had never even heard of before. Normally, she'd have been eager to sample a little of everything, but at present, she wasn't sure she could have even managed a single mouthful.

She was far too nauseous.

This had to be some kind of joke, right?

A tournament that had killed students in the past was being revived.

Mother would be positively distraught when she got the news. She'd had done everything in her power to keep Rapunzel safe, made countless sacrifices to keep her out of harm's way. And then Rapunzel had gone and thrown it all away like the ungrateful, spoiled girl she was.

She should have just left well enough alone, and then perhaps she wouldn't be forced to compete in a deadly tournament with or possibly against her peers. She should never have written to accept her invitation to Hogwarts all on her own – she should have waited for Mother to get home. She should have asked Mother what she thought about it before writing them back. And she most certainly should never have gotten on that train.

Even though Mother always knew what was best for her, Rapunzel had pushed her into allowing her to attend Hogwarts. Mother had told her that she wasn't ready, that it was too dangerous. But she'd insisted anyway, and now here she was, in a tournament to the death.

If only she had listened to Mother.

Pushing herself to her feet, she managed to extract herself from the crowded bench and made her way towards the large doors at the back of the hall. If she could get back to the train, maybe it would take her back to London. Back to her home. Back to Mother.

Forcing open the large wooden doors at the end of the hall, she slipped out into the castle's main foyer. As the massive door thudded closed behind her, Rapunzel found herself in a room she didn't recognize. A grand room with a ginormous staircase and a ginormous set of doors.

This wasn't the way they'd come in.

Turning back to the door that she had just come through, she pulled it open and was met with a sudden swell of sound from within. Staring out across the sea of black cloaks, it occurred to her that she didn't know which door they'd entered the hall from.

Chest aching, she fled back to the quiet of the foyer, tugging at her robes to loosen the fabric around her throat so that she could breathe.

Wrapping her trembling hands around the handle of the trunk she'd spent so many hours painting and packing over the summer, she pulled with all her might.

Once she had her things, she could get on the train and go home.

Using the entirety of her strength and body weight, she dragged her trunk free from the stack. Vibrations tingled in her triceps as her trunk's tiny copper feet scraped across the top of the trunk under it – just like it had done that morning when she'd towed it from her bedroom down to the living room.

Suddenly, the stack of student luggage released hers and it hit the ground with a thud, sending her stumbling backwards. A large pair of hands caught her as she nearly lost her feet out from under her.

Starting with surprise, she turned around amid a flood of apologies and found herself face to face – well, face to chest – with a ginormous suit of armour, and stopped short as it settled back into its original position.

Turning back towards the wall of trunks, she found hers upended on the floor alongside two others. One of the trunks that did not belong to her had sprung open when it had hit the ground, spilling most of its contents across the floor.

"Oh no," She breathed, wincing at the mess.

She never should have come here.

"I am thinking this is probably not best place to unpack."

Rapunzel whirled around to find Professor North standing behind her, surveying the situation with his hands resting on his hips.

Eyes wide, she shook her head in panic. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean – this isn't – I can't – I have to go."

Grabbing the handle of her trunk, which had miraculously managed to stay latched in spite of its tumble, she dragged it towards the large wooden doors that she was sure had to be the way out, the tiny copper feet scraping across the stone floor of the entranceway with each step.

And then, the awful grinding of copper against stone ceased and the weight of her trunk lightened considerably. Professor North had taken the other handle. "You are going home, yes? I will help you, show you the way back to the train."

Rapunzel's brows knit together in bewilderment, but she nodded. North paused briefly to wave his wand in the direction of the trunk that had spilled during her escape, and the contents sprang into action, hopping back into the trunk like frogs – which delighted, then nauseated Rapunzel when she remembered the girl from the train. North gestured towards the front doors of the castle, which opened on their own as they approached.

As they stepped out into the cool night air and made their way down the stone steps and onto the well-packed gravel path, carrying the trunk easily between them, Rapunzel glanced around at the silhouettes of Hogwarts' outbuildings as her eyes adjusted to the limited light.

After a few minutes with only the sound of the gravel crunching underfoot to listen to, Rapunzel broke the silence. "I'm sorry – I thought I was ready to come here, but I can't do it. I can't be in a deadly tournament – Mother has done so much to keep me safe, I can't just throw that all away. If anything happened to me, it would break her heart."

"Ah, I am understanding problem now," North said, stroking his long white beard with his free hand. "But tournament is not for everyone. If you are not wanting to participate, then you are not participating."

"I don't have to participate?"

"Not if you don't want to," Professor North grinned. "Besides, if everyone competes, then who will watch?"

Rapunzel sighed. "I must be some Gryffindor, huh?"

"Better instincts than most, I think." Professor North chuckled, and Rapunzel ducked her head with embarrassment. After a moment, his smile faded. "But you are thinking Sorting Hat made mistake."

The thought hadn't directly occurred to her, but she realized it was true. Her housemates had actually seemed excited by the Headmaster's announcement, but all she had felt was utter terror. Gryffindor was supposed to be the house of the brave, but she'd been scared nearly every moment since she'd left home. She didn't belong here. She belonged at home, with Mother, where it was safest. The Sorting Hat really had made a mistake in placing her in Gryffindor, and it was such a big mistake that even Professor North could see it, and he'd known her for less than an hour.

She nodded. "I'm not brave, I've been scared so many times since I woke up this morning."

"And yet here you are," Professor North raised his shaggy eyebrows. "If you are being scared, but are doing things anyway, then I say you are brave! I am thinking that being afraid is only way to be truly brave."

Rapunzel slowed to a halt, and turned towards the castle, brows knitting together. "Would it be okay if I stayed?"

"I think would be very okay." Professor North said. "Castle looks less scary in daytime anyways."

Rapunzel smiled.

When they arrived at the castle, the trunks that been stacked along the wall had vanished. They set her trunk where the others had been as the doors to the Great Hall opened, giving way to a flood of black robes.

Professor North flagged down a nearby brunette as she lead a group of students towards the enormous staircase. "Miss Tremaine, this is Miss Gothel. She is new to Gryffindor. Miss Tremaine is a Prefect and will show you to your room."

And with that, North patted Rapunzel on the shoulder and headed back into the Great Hall.

Making a face like she had something sour in her mouth, the brunette rolled her eyes and turned back towards the stairs. "Follow me."

Nodding, Rapunzel fell into step behind the other girl. On the second floor landing stood a large framed painting and Rapunzel stood on her toes to see further down the hall. Large, framed paintings hung every few feet and statues stood in what seemed like every corner.

One or two paintings even waved to their group – Rapunzel stopped to say hello and introduce herself to the first one and nearly managed to lose her housemates. She'd had to run to catch up with them, and had almost missed the staircase, which had started moving the moment she'd stepped onto it. If she'd been a second slower, she'd have missed it entirely.

Heart pounding, she hurried to join her housemates near the top before glancing over the side of the railing with a grimace. Below the moving staircases seemed to be an open chasm into nothingness. She didn't want to think about where she might have ended up if she'd missed that step.

Up and up and up they continued to climb until they had climbed what seemed like every staircase in the entire castle, they reached a large painting that stretched from floor to ceiling and featured a trio of armoured knights who braced for battle as they approached. Halting in front of the artwork, the sour-faced brunette spoke in a loud voice. "Glass Slippers."

The knights lowered their weapons and the painting swung towards them, revealing a round archway hidden behind it.

Miss Tremaine led them inside to a warm, round room with tapestry-adorned walls and a large crackling fireplace at the far side. Several of the biggest, squashiest, most comfortable-looking brown armchairs she could have possibly imagined stood around the room, and Rapunzel felt certain that if she sat on any of them, she'd sink right into them and stay there forever. A plush maroon and gold rug covered the floor between the armchairs, and on it stood a large, deep brown coffee table with a thick stack of papers in the middle, a deep blue book with intricate silver designs imprinted on the cover serving as a paperweight to hold the stack of papers in place.

Not even pausing for a second to allow them to take in the room, Miss Tremaine strode towards a stone archway at the back of the common room that opened up into a small stone room with three near-identical spiral staircases winding all the way up to the roof, balconies every so often.

"Where do you think you're going, Ella?"

Rapunzel's attention snapped back to her guide and found her looking down her nose at a tiny strawberry blonde in well-worn robes, who was stopped at the bottom of one of the spiral staircases, her hand on the smooth wooden railing.

"I didn't know you were a Prefect too." Miss Tremaine said, looking even sourer than before.

"Oh Drizella, you know I'm not-" The strawberry blonde – Ella – frowned.

"Oh, you're not?" Drizella sneered, like some kind of predator that had managed to corner its prey. "Then get out of my way. Prefects first."

Shoulders sagging, Ella dropped her hand to her side and stepped back from the stairs. "Yes, Drizella."

"Mother always said you had no manners. It's a pity you don't learn your place." Drizella spat, before roughly shouldering past Ella to stand a few steps above her peers. Turning to address the other students, she grinned. "He/hims to the left, she/hers to the right, and they/thems and xe/xirs furthest from the portrait-hole. Everyone's things have already been moved upstairs – wherever your stuff is, is where you're sleeping. If you need mobility assistance, stop on one of the hexagonal stones in the stairwell and it will take you where you need to go."

When the murmur of conversation began to swell, Drizella used her foot to bump another girl who looked nearly identical to her, save for that she had vibrant red hair instead of dark brown, and Rapunzel wondered just how common twins were at Hogwarts. The girl yelped with alarm, but after Drizella gave her a look, she turned to the Gryffindors and shouted. "QUIET!"

Once her peers had quieted, Drizella gestured to the common area, towards a large framed swath of pale brown near the entrance, and spoke once more. "Bulletin board for announcements, sign-ups, whatever."

And with that, she lead them up the spiral staircase, with the rest of the Gryffindor girls following suit. Drizella and her redheaded sister broke off at the first room with Ruffina. Rapunzel turned to follow the group to the next floor when she glimpsed her trunk in her peripheral.

Heading into the room where the unmistakable painted trunk had been placed, Rapunzel found her entrance met with the disdainful stares of Drizella and her redheaded sister.

"Can we help you?" The redheaded sister asked as though helping was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Ella 2.0," Drizella nudged her sister, and both of them laughed.

"I think this is my room," Rapunzel said, pointing to the foot of one of the beds. "That's my trunk."

Drizella and her redheaded sister went quiet, exchanged a look and turned away without another word. As they began primping in their matching vanity mirrors, Rapunzel wondered if she'd done or said something to offend them.

Awkwardly, she knelt by her trunk to find herself a pair of pyjamas, then climbed onto her new bed, which was a large four-poster with rich maroon curtains. Setting her pyjamas next to her, she looked up to find Ruffina already yanking the curtains of her four-poster closed behind her.

Reaching into the pocket of her robes, Rapunzel picked up Pascal, who uncurled from his nap as she gently set him on the bed and pulled closed the curtains of her four-poster. Sitting cross-legged on her new bed, she gave Pascal a gentle pet under the chin with her index finger, and he croaked with delight. "This is it, Pascal. We're finally where we've always dreamed of going."

For a few minutes, she watched Pascal investigate his new surroundings, changing colour to match the different shades of the bedspread as he made his way across it and began to climb one of the bedposts.

Once she'd changed into her pyjamas, she pulled back the covers and found that they were much heavier than the ones she used at home. They were so heavy she wondered how she could possibly sleep without suffocating. And they felt different too – a different kind of soft – definitely softer and smoother, but the fibres caught on the ridges of her fingerprints as she ran the fabric against her skin.

Pulling the too-heavy covers up, Rapunzel shuffled into bed, and found the pillow too fluffy and uncomfortable.

And how could she possibly sleep without saying goodnight to Mother first?

Curling her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs and pressed her face against her pillow to dry her tears.

She missed the garden with the gnome problem and the east-facing bedroom with the soft, lightweight bed sheets. She missed sitting on the floor by the mahogany and velvet chair while Mother brushed her hair. She missed hazelnut soup with freshly made bread rolls and goodnight kisses on the top of her head. She missed her home. But more than anything else, she missed Mother.

---

Rapunzel was a morning person, always out of bed as the first rays of sunlight crested the horizon, chasing shadows across the valley and transforming each drop of dew into a spectrum of colour. She'd be up as the first slivers of light began to flood through her bedroom window – the east bedroom – because Rapunzel had always risen with the sun, even on nights when she'd stayed up past her usual bedtime to chart the night sky. Rapunzel had never been a late sleeper. It was a fact as sure as the moon, the stars and even the sun itself. If the sun was up, Rapunzel was up – it was the way she'd always been.

With the sole exception to that rule being her first day at Hogwarts.

When she awoke the next morning, groggy and in an unfamiliar bed, her eyes red and puffy and a hollow, empty ache in her gut, the first thing she did was sit bolt upright and stare confusedly at her unfamiliar surroundings in the darkness, wondering where in the world she could possibly be, and why she was so very, very hungry.

The next thing that occurred to Rapunzel was that someone was screaming.

Her heart pounding, it took her nearly two minutes to find her way out of the four-poster bed. In the end, she'd given up on trying to find the end of the curtain and had hitched the swath of fabric up off the floor and gone under it instead.

As she stood up, Rapunzel had to grab hold of one of her bedposts when she came over lightheaded and dizzy, and it occurred to her that she hadn't eaten anything since her late breakfast with Mother the morning prior.

Surveying the situation with wide eyes, she found the room in utter disarray. Her dormmates' trunks looked like they had exploded across the room – dresses and robes and stray socks were strewn everywhere. And two of her dormmates – Drizella and her sister – were standing on the stool of their vanity together, looking very much like each was trying to push the other off it while trying to maintain balance themselves.

"Get it! Get the snake!" Drizella shouted, pointing desperately towards the bedpost as her redheaded sister attempted to aim her wand in the same direction, and Rapunzel realized with a jolt of panic that the creature that the sisters were aiming at was not a snake at all.

"Pascal!" Rapunzel cried out in alarm as she leaped forward and scooped him up, cupping her hands protectively around him and holding him close to her heart.

"What is wrong with you?" Drizella demanded, looking utterly outraged by Rapunzel's interference.

"It's okay. It's not a snake." Rapunzel said, stepping towards the Prefect. "It's my familiar, Pascal – see?"

"Ew, get that disgusting, slimy thing away from me!" Drizella's sister shouted, flailing her arms towards Rapunzel and Pascal, as the stool wobbled precariously under the sisters.

"Pascal's a chameleon, they're not slimy-" Rapunzel began, but Drizella cut her off.

"I don't care what it is, get it away from-" Drizella's words were cut off when she shrieked as the stool upended and sent both of them sprawling on the floor with a thud. "Oof!"

"Are you okay-"

Before Rapunzel could take a step closer, the Tremaine sisters had scrambled to their feet. "Stay away from us!"

Ducking her head apologetically, she set Pascal on her nightstand and noticed the window above it. Catching her breath, she unlatched the window and pushed it open, a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupting in her stomach, a jolt of excitement making her fingers and toes tingle and elation making her heart feel as though it had been inflated so fully that it might jump right out of her chest and escape her body. Leaning out the window as she took in a deep breath of the cool morning air, she held tight to the stone windowsill, lest she float away.

Despite the first day of classes having dawned dreary, damp and overcast, with steely grey clouds that seemed to weigh especially heavy in the sky, Rapunzel was thrilled by the view from her dormitory. The way the castle's taller towers vanished into a thick mist made the castle feel especially magical, and she could not wait to explore the grounds in person.

Clasping her hands together, she bounced back and forth on the balls of her bare feet with a small squeal of elation.

Suddenly, it occurred to Rapunzel that she no longer had a bedroom just to herself and, clapping her hands over her mouth, she turned to find that Drizella and her sister were gone.

Panicking, she fumbled for the clock on her nightstand and ended up knocking it onto the floor. Diving after it, she just managed to grab it before it rolled under her bed. As she set it back in its' rightful place, she realized that it didn't matter what time it was because she had no idea what time classes started.

Her heart skipping a beat for an entirely new reason, she gasped and nearly fell face-first when her foot caught on the edge of the rug in her rush to get to her trunk, smacking her knee against the corner of her bed before she was able to steady herself.

Grunting with pain, she bit her lip to have something else to focus on as she hobbled to her trunk to fetch her uniform, hand still pressed against her knee. Heart pounding, she shoved all of her school supplies into the worn brown satchel Mother had given her and pulled on her uniform as quickly as she possibly could.

Anxiety welled up inside her as she wondered what happened to tardy students. Would she be sent home? She desperately hoped not. She'd only just arrived at Hogwarts, and now that she'd decided to stay, she couldn't imagine leaving.

She was so busy worrying about what happened to tardy students that she nearly forgot her wand until she was halfway down the spiral staircase and realized she'd forgotten to tie her tie, which she was pleased to discover had now turned a delightful shade of maroon with diagonal golden stripes – Gryffindor's house colours.

Draping the long strip of fabric over her shoulders, she sprinted back up to her room to fetch her wand from the drawer of her nightstand. Pointing it at the fabric like Professor Grimm had done the night before, she flicked her wand exactly as she'd seen him do. "Tie."

But instead of looping into a knot like it had when the deputy headmaster had used the spell, the fabric continued to hang limply over her shoulders.

Sighing, she stowed the wand in her pocket, gave Pascal a quick kiss on the head, pulled her extremely heavy satchel over her shoulder and hurried down the spiral staircase into the common room.

Pausing for a moment by the bulletin board, she snatched a first-year schedule from where they were pinned, and after checking the time of her first class, sprinted out the portrait hole.

---

It'd been just after eight when she'd left the dormitories, and she was at her second dead end when the first bell had rung to signal the start of morning classes. It wasn't until the third dead end that she had decided that the portraits were not even close to a reliable source for directions.

Wishing she'd been paying closer attention the previous evening, Rapunzel hurried down the first staircase she found. Surely if she kept heading down, eventually she'd reach the entrance hall. Every turn brought her to corridors just as deserted as the last, quelling any hope of finding someone she could ask for directions.

That is until she turned a corner and walked through a person in long white robes.

Gasping at the sudden feeling of being dunked head to toe in ice-water, she turned to face her assailant and found a translucent wizard with a long silvery-white beard wearing white robes studying her with a stern expression.

"You're a ghost!" Rapunzel said, awestruck. She'd read about ghosts in one of Mother's books, and had been very much looking forward to meeting one – although she had imagined it going a bit differently.

"I am." The wizard said, nodding slowly. "And I think you ought to be in class, young lady."

"I'm trying. I'm lost." Rapunzel shifted the weight of her satchel to a different part of her shoulder, wincing at the ache as she did so. Pulling out her class schedule and pointing to the first class on it, she held it up for the ghost to see. "Do you know where this is?"

Stroking his beard as he studied her class schedule, he nodded. "Very well, I will show you where this is. This way, if you please."

The elderly ghost, who introduced himself as Hogwarts' late librarian, a wizard that everyone just called 'Keeper', lead her through the halls and down a staircase to a quiet hallway with several doors. Coming to a stop in front of the fourth door, he gestured towards it. "Here you are, young lady."

"Thank you, Keeper."

Rapunzel took a deep breath and stepped into the classroom.

At the front of the room stood the mustachioed deputy headmaster. He barely glanced in her direction as he continued writing on the chalkboard. "Is there a reason you're interrupting my class, Miss Gothel?"

"I'm sorry I'm late – I got lost on my way here," Rapunzel dipped her head apologetically as she moved to take a seat.

"And it would seem you are still lost." Professor Grimm said, finally turning to look at her, his green eyes narrowed. "This is an introductory course, and unless I am much mistaken, you are most decidedly not eleven."

As a ripple of laughter went through the class, Rapunzel held the strap of her satchel tightly. "But this is my first year-"

"Miss Gothel, if you are not prepared to put in the necessary work at the same level as your peers, perhaps you should have completed your studies from the comfort of your own home. But as you have chosen to attend Hogwarts School this year, if you are accustomed to leniency in your education, then you had best become unaccustomed to it, and quickly. Now, if you do not mind, please stop disrupting my class and make your way to the greenhouses. I'm sure Professor Knotgrass has noticed your absence by now."

Her mouth agape, Rapunzel tried to speak but found she couldn't form even a single word. Heat rising in her face, she began to back up towards the door.

"Hogwarts' dress code is not optional, Miss Gothel. I believe I asked you to be wearing your tie properly the next time I saw you, did I not?"

"You did, sir," Rapunzel managed to say, although her voice threatened to fail her with every syllable.

"In that case, that's five points from Gryffindor." A groan went up from half of the classroom. Professor Grimm silenced them with just a look before turning back to Rapunzel. "The next time I see you without your tie tied properly, it will be ten. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Rapunzel said, squeezing her eyes closed to keep herself from crying in front of the whole class.

"And the next time I see you, I also expect you to be wearing shoes."

"Yes, sir." Her voice was barely a whisper as the classroom erupted into laughter.

"That's enough." Professor Grimm barked as he picked up his chalk and turned his attention back to his blackboard.

Rapunzel pushed open the door and fled to the safety of the hallway. As the door thudded closed behind her, she broke into a run. She didn't know where she was going – she had no idea how to get to the greenhouses or the Great Hall or even back to her dormitory. All she knew was that she needed to get as far from Professor Grimm's classroom as she possibly could.

It wasn't until she rounded a corner and the bottom of her satchel tore, causing her to trip over the cascade of books and parchment and dragon-hide gloves that the floodgates finally gave way.

Her set of crystal vials shattered when they hit the ground, and the sound her pewter cauldron made as it ricocheted off the stone floor was loud enough to wake the dead. Sitting up, she tried to catch her breath. Between the scrapes on her knees and the ache in her lungs, it was all she could do to pick up the textbook that had landed closest to her. A well-worn copy of Standard Spells, Grade 1 that had landed open and face-down, she made to smooth out one of the crumpled pages and had to bite her lip as she discovered that she had a stray shard of crystal stuck in her hand.

Letting go of the book, which slid off her thigh with a thump, she stared down at the cut in her hand. She'd certainly bled before, as the collection of pale arcs crisscrossing her palms could attest, but somehow, this felt worse. Without Mother to bandage the wound and kiss her forehead, the unexpected injury frightened her. Her lungs still refusing to let her draw a deep breath, she didn't even notice the tears streaking down her face until one of them fell into her open palm.

"Are you alright, little lady?" A new voice asked, and Rapunzel looked up to see a man in a blue shirt, blue trousers and a blue hat standing in front of her.

"My bag..." Rapunzel sniffled by way of explanation, holding it up with her uninjured hand for the middle-aged wizard to see before breaking into a fresh round of sobs.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. I see this sort of thing at least once a week." Pulling a square of pale blue fabric from his pocket, he crouched down beside her and handed her a handkerchief. "Not to worry, miss. Fixing things is my specialty. My name is Felix, what's yours?"

"Rapunzel," she managed between sobs. Accepting the offered handkerchief, she dried her eyes. "I-I'm lost – and late – for class."

"Well, you're in luck. I happen to be something of a directional expert around here." Felix smiled and offered her a brown work-gloved hand, and helped her back to her feet. "Where are you off to?"

"Herbology."

Gesturing towards her scattered possessions, he smiled kindly at her. "Here, do you mind? I can fix it."

Felix drew his wand out of his tool belt and waved it. Immediately, the tear in her satchel began to sew itself back together, the large dent popped right out of her cauldron, causing it to roll towards her, and the smashed crystal shards began to hop across the floor and piece themselves back together.

Gasping, she watched as the shard that was stuck in her palm wiggled free and leaped down to rejoin its' kin. Spotting the cut in her hand, which had begun bleeding anew, Felix winced. "Oh, gee, that sure looks like a doozy. Let's say we take a quick detour and I introduce you to Gothi before I show you to the greenhouses."

"O-okay," Rapunzel sniffled. "Thank you for helping me, Professor Felix."

"Just Felix is fine," Felix said, blushing. "I'm not a teacher, just your friendly neighbourhood fix-it guy."

"Oh, well, thank you anyway."

"Happy to help!" Felix said, handing her back her satchel, now repaired and restocked with all of her school things. "Now, let's get you to Gothi so that she can take a look at that hand."

---

As it turned out, Gothi was a stout older witch with long, silver-grey hair and bright blue eyes. She walked with a tall, decorative cane that was adorned with bones, teeth and several carved runes and was rumoured to occasionally bonk people on the head with it. According to Felix, she was the strong, silent type, and Rapunzel believed it because in the five minutes it took Gothi to mend the cut on her hand, she didn't say a single word.

In a matter of minutes, Rapunzel and Felix had been sent on their way. After a second detour back up to her dormitory to fetch her a pair of shoes, Felix showed her how to tie a necktie – first with magic, and then, when she still couldn't get her wand to cooperate, without magic too. And then, with her hand healed, her tie tied and her feet shod, Felix lead her down to the greenhouses.

On their way through the castle, Felix told her stories about some of his biggest cleanups and fix-its in the areas they passed. Late last year, he said, one of the quidditch players had accidentally pulled one of the classroom doors right off its' hinges. And another time, the year before last, they'd woken up on Yule morning to find that someone had filled the Great Hall with two feet of snow, so everyone who'd stayed at the school over the winter holidays had to squeeze into one of the nearby classrooms for breakfast. Professor Grimm had wanted to punish the student who'd done it, but Professor North had talked him 'round with the spirit of Yuletide, and the student had gotten away with just a stern talking to.

Felix said that he had never met anyone who loved Yuletide more than Professor North, and Rapunzel couldn't help but smile.

By the time they reached the greenhouses, Rapunzel was more than a little disappointed to say goodbye to Felix. It had been her very own special tour of Hogwarts Castle, and Rapunzel wished that she could have spent the rest of the day just listening to Felix's stories. He'd shown her an entirely different side of Hogwarts than she'd ever found in any of Mother's books, and it had reinvigorated Rapunzel's interest in the castle. She couldn't wait for her next opportunity to listen to Felix's stories and perhaps even do some exploring of her own.

But that would have to wait until after Herbology.

Professor Knotgrass was a plump witch in rich red robes vibrant enough to rival even Professor North's. Stern, but forgiving, she ushered Rapunzel in to join the class just as she proudly unveiled what she called her piece de resistance – a large bright pink Fanged Geranium. She'd been trying to grow them in different colours for years, but Fanged Geraniums seemed stubbornly determined to be blue. But this summer she'd finally managed to do it, and she fully intended to show them off to every class she had.

After assigning them ten pages of reading from Advanced Principles of Magibotany and a fourteen-inch scroll on the medicinal properties of stinksap to complete by next Monday, the bell rang and Professor Knotgrass sent them all off to their next class.

Stopping by the Great Hall on her way back from Herbology, Rapunzel snagged a large sandwich from a platter on the nearest table and quickly checked its layers for live frogs. Careful to avoid the large olive speared on a toothpick that held the sandwich together, Rapunzel helped herself to a huge bite of the beautiful stack of bread, cheese, meat and vegetables, savouring the taste of her first meal since breakfast the previous day. She was very tempted to take a second sandwich until a sweet-smelling round pastry caught her attention with its mouthwatering cinnamony smell. Taking a deep breath of the intoxicating scent, her stomach growled loudly, and she couldn't resist the sweet treat anymore. Wrapping her half-eaten sandwich in a napkin, she tucked it into her satchel and helped herself to one of the sticky, icing-adorned baked good, and held it up for inspection. Optimistic that it did not contain any live frogs either, she took a tentative bite.

It was heavenly.

Rapunzel would have eaten nothing but cinnamon buns for the rest of the school-year, given half a chance.

She had often baked at home, but her repertoire of recipes only consisted of sweets that wouldn't ruin Mother's figure. That hadn't leave her with very many options, but now, she promised herself, that was going to change. She was going to learn how to make cinnamon rolls before the end of the year.

She had much less difficulty finding her second class than she had the first. Felix had helped point her in the direction of the Alchemy classroom on their way to the greenhouses, and she was just settling into an empty seat near the front of the room when Professor Xavier walked in, a burly Black man with a neatly groomed almost-white beard and a spattering of freckles across his cheeks. Unlike the other professors she'd seen so far, Professor Xavier was dressed far more casually, having opted for a plain grey-green shirt with black trousers and a thick brown dragon-hide apron instead of the sweeping robes of his peers.

And after spending the entire period answering student questions about mood potions and the legend of the Cheating Willow, on which Rapunzel took extensive notes, even though she wasn't sure how either topic related to Alchemy, Professor Xavier assigned them several pages of reading from the textbook and a written assignment to be completed by their next class.

After Alchemy was History of Magic with Professor Grotke, a cheerful, spirited witch with curly black hair and round glasses who said she was excited to go on a learning journey together. It was her first time teaching, she said, and Rapunzel heard the student behind her whisper something about leniency in the green ones, which had been something of an epiphany for Rapunzel, right before Professor Grotke had assigned them even more reading from the textbook and their longest homework assignment yet – twenty inches of parchment on what they knew about the oft-forgotten founding mothers of modern magic.

By the time lunch rolled around and Rapunzel was finally able to finish her sandwich, her brain was buzzing with new information, her fingers and wrists were covered with smears of dried black ink, and there was a dent in the middle fingers on both of her hands from how she'd been holding her quill. She'd never written so much at once before in her life, and she wasn't sure how she was going to make it to the end of the day without her hands falling off.

---

Merida had been on her way back to the Great Hall after Muggle Studies when Professor Grimm had flagged her down in the hallway. She couldn't help but groan inwardly as she made her way over to him. The deputy headmaster was in his signature bright blue robes, with his steely grey hair slicked back as per usual with what she could only assume was a handful of kitchen grease.

"Miss DunBroch, what have I told you about rolling your eyes?" Professor Grimm asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That it's not proper ladylike behaviour." She answered flatly, rolling her eyes again, just for spite. Blowing a stray curl out of her eyes, she raised an eyebrow at the frowning Professor. "Let me guess, yer here to pass on a message from the queen."

Sighing deeply through his nose, Professor Grimm pulled a neatly folded slip of parchment out of the breast pocket of his robes. "I've received correspondence from your mother regarding your schedule this term."

"How does my mother even know my class schedule? I suppose you sent it to her, out of the pure goodness of your own heart. Tell me, do ye send daily activity reports to all of the other parents, too?"

"Must I remind you that Elinor is-"

"One of your closest and dearest friends, yes, I'm aware."

"Miss DunBroch, unless you'd like like to start the semester with detention, I suggest you check the attitude." Professor Grimm held out the folded piece of parchment to her. "I've taken the liberty of adjusting your timetable for you, as per your mother's instruction."

After a long pause, she groaned and snatched the parchment out of the professor's hand.

Clenching her jaw, she unfolded the page. Heat rose in her face as each word stoked the embers of her temper.

"The tyrannical cow!" Merida scrunched the paper with one hand. Looking up to confront the deputy headmaster, she found Professor Grimm halfway down the corridor, and she stormed after him, shouting. "Grimm! You can't let her do this!"

"Professor Grimm," He corrected sharply, turning to face her.

"It's my life! Not hers! And it's my decision what to do with it! It's not fair!"

"It's not necessary to shout, Miss DunBroch, I can hear you perfectly well." He met her outraged glare with an indifferent scowl. "I'm afraid that as you are still underage, I must defer to your mother for the final decision on your courses for the school year. Now, if you're quite finished throwing a tantrum over not getting your way, I recommend you have some lunch before your next class."

Furious, she twisted and crushed her new timetable with both hands, as though destroying the paper could somehow change her fate. As though turning it into a crumpled tube of parchment could cancel her new timetable.

Grinding her teeth, she managed to stifle the deluge of curse words on the tip of her tongue. With Grimm going out of his way to ensure Elinor's will was obeyed, carving her own path would be a much bigger challenge than she'd anticipated. Resisting her mother's interference was a lost cause, but perhaps she could still get her way. Making a noise in the back of her throat that was somewhere between a groan and a growl, Merida threw her head back..

"If I agree to take on the additional courses, can I keep Defence Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures?"

Grimm continued walking, his hands clasped together at the small of his back, but she heard him breathe out slowly through his nose. "I'll see what I can do, Miss DunBroch."

---

By the time the bell tolled at the end of final period on her first day as a Hogwarts student, Rapunzel's brain felt like an overfilled cup, and she worried that the most important bits of her new-found knowledge might spill out and be lost if she wasn't careful.

Setting her satchel on the smooth wooden bench, she helped herself to the meats and vegetables that had appeared on the table for dinner. The first thing she tried – a mouthwatering and fragrant meat dish with a rich brown sauce which her peers were putting on a bed of plain rice – tasted even better than it smelled, but before she'd even finished her first mouthful, she suddenly felt as though her mouth had been filled with dragonfire. She was halfway through her second glass of ice water when someone handed her a glass of milk to drink instead, which finally stifled the intense burning in her sinuses.

Her face still warm from the first dish, she glanced apprehensively at her other options, and couldn't help but wonder if they were all as spicy as the first had been.

"I'd recommend the one on the left – it's milder." One of the Gryffindor boys suggested from a few seats down. Fishel, she remembered, the one with the kind smile, and as Rapunzel brushed tears from her cheeks with the heel of her hand, she realized he'd been the one to hand her the glass of milk.

Smiling sheepishly, Rapunzel ducked her head and helped herself to a small portion of the recommended dish. Hesitantly taking a bite, she breathed a sigh of relief when she found that it was far less spicy but no less flavourful than the previous dish had been – before the heat had hit her, anyway.

"Sorry," A tiny blonde witch bumped her elbow as she settled onto the bench next to her and without a single word more, buried her nose in a book. Still savouring a mouthful of the milder curry, Rapunzel wondering if she ought to be reading too, and pulled her satchel closer to fish out both her Herbology textbook and the piece of parchment that listed the assigned reading.

Flipping to the page she'd written down, she found herself amid a passage on the proper procedures for drying nettles without compromising their magical integrity. She read two and a half pages and found ne'er a single reference to fanged geraniums or stinksap's medicinal properties when it occurred to her that she might have grabbed the wrong textbook. Mother had purchased so many books for her first year at Hogwarts, after all, and perhaps Herbology had required two.

But as Rapunzel rifled through her satchel, her anxiety began to mount.

Her dinner half-finished and fully forgotten, Rapunzel hurried out of the Great Hall, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the shoulder strap of her satchel and sprinted up the stairs.

Somehow, she only managed to make one wrong turn before she found her way back to Gryffindor Tower, dumped the contents of her satchel on her bed and dove into her painted trunk. Her heart sank further the deeper she dug, hoping against hope that she had packed other books and somehow forgotten she had them.

Because not only was she missing the correct Herbology textbook, but none of the other reading she'd been assigned seemed to match the tomes she'd brought with her to school.

---

It wasn't that Hiccup had intended to be late – he'd just been deeply conflicted about going at all. He didn't have a particular dislike for alchemy or the wizard who taught it, but he'd never been especially good at magic of any sort, and some days there hardly seemed much point in him struggling through yet another class he was ill-suited for. His grades had been reflecting that for six years, and so he'd been sorely tempted to drop the class altogether.

And so, initially, he'd planned on ignoring the tolling of the bell. He'd explained as much to Toothless as he made himself comfortable on some out-of-the-way windowsill with his book, the tomcat sitting at his feet.

Besides, everyone had been saying for as long as he could remember that he was a lost cause. No matter where he stood, be it in the halls and classrooms of Hogwarts School or the cliffs and cobbled streets of Drekey, everyone saw him the same way, so why was he trying so hard to fight against it? Why couldn't he just accept his place as the most useless wizard to ever plague the rockscapes of Drekey? He was destined for nothing, and the sooner he accepted it, the better off everyone would be – wasn't that what everyone always said?

"What? You know I'm right," Hiccup said pointedly, burying his nose in the book he'd brought with him. After a minute or so of reading, the boy shifted positions, once, twice, thrice, and the cat had continued to watch him intently with bright green eyes and the now-healed stump that remained of his tail laying flush against one of his hind limbs, as though its phantom was curled neatly around his front paws. Stubbornly, the boy turned the page of his book, then leaned his head against the wall with a groan. "Okay, fine, I'm going, I'm going."

And so, approximately four and a half minutes later, Hiccup stood breathlessly outside of the alchemy classroom, trying to straighten his tie and steady his breathing so he wouldn't draw as much attention to himself. Which, as it turned out, ended up being all for naught anyway, because when he pushed open the door and slipped into the classroom, he found Professor Xavier leaning on the edge of his desk, explaining something as a self-levitating piece of chalk drew a diagram on the board behind him.

"Well hello, Mr. Haddock," Professor Xavier said jovially. "What can I do for you today?"

"Erm, I'm here for class," Hiccup said, ducking his head as his freckled cheeks and ears flushed a deep pink. "S-sorry I'm late."

"How fortuitous! Well in that case, welcome, Mr. Haddock. Please pull up a seat!" Professor Xavier gestured towards an empty seat near the front of the room. "You know, this reminds me of Chelone and the Timeturner."

The class gave a collective sigh as Hiccup hurried to the indicated seat, mumbling apologies as Professor Xavier launched into a long-winded tale about how time magic came to be outlawed. Professor Xavier was renown among the students of Hogwarts for his tangential storytelling. Years past, when Hiccup had the class with the Gryffindors instead, they'd spent most of the semester derailing the lesson plans and had learned nearly nothing at all by the end of the term. Class with the Hufflepuffs, however, was very different, as there seemed to be some collective unspoken agreement among the witches of the house to keep their Professor on topic.

And so, as Hiccup made to take his seat, it wasn't the fact that the witch next to him raised her hand that caught him off guard so much as who the witch was. He'd been so focused on trying not to draw attention to himself – and, naturally, achieving the exact opposite of what he'd been trying to do – that he didn't notice who his desk-mate would be until he was half a step from his seat.

At the front of the room, Professor Xavier paused his story. "Well, what are you waiting for, Mr. Haddock? Please take your seat, if you don't mind."

"Sorry," Hiccup said, as much to his new seat partner as to Professor Xavier, as he slid onto the tall, wooden chair and began to grab his books and parchment from his satchel.

"Yes, Ms. Hofferson?"

Next to Hiccup, his seat partner lowered her hand. "Sir, we were hoping you might teach us more about the alchemical reversal for transforming gems back into metals."

"Hmmm... Turn to page seventy-three in your textbooks, if you would, please," As everyone turned to the aforementioned page in their respective tomes, Professor Xavier stroked his almost-white beard and made his way behind his desk. Opening the top drawer, he drew out a small wooden crate filled to the top with blue-green stones and made his way down the aisle, setting one stone on each table as he passed. "In teams of two, you'll work to extract either copper or aluminum from a piece of turquoise – I will award five house points to anyone who is able to accomplish this task by the end of class."

With a flurry of activity, the sound of drawers opening and the thud of metal on wood echoed through the room as each student started to snatch up materials and set up their portable alchemy stations.

Turning to his seat partner, who had still not deigned to look at him, Hiccup noticed that part of the kit had been left off to the side, and so reached for it.

"Don't touch that."

"Okay," Hiccup said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically as he swooped his hand sharply to the right, flexing his fingers as though testing his ability to move them had been his original intent, then awkwardly ran his hand through his hair instead. "Oh, did you want me to-"

"No."

"Oh, right, yeah, that's what I thought," Hiccup nodded. "Well, what can I do to help?"

"Sit over there," Astrid nodded in the direction of his chair but didn't look up. "Don't touch anything."

"Right," Hiccup said bitterly. "That's what I thought."

As Astrid set up their kit and began to measure ingredients, Hiccup propped himself up on one elbow and glanced down at the tome that lay open on the table in front of him. Skimming the page, his eyes quickly found the list of instructions, but only made it as far as the first two steps listed before his brain stopped processing what the words on the page meant. It wasn't even half a page further before he just let his eyes unfocus altogether.

Sighing, he leaned back, opening and closing his jaw to exercise the muscle, which had grown cramped from resting on the heel of his hand for too long.

Perhaps he ought to have skipped this class as he'd originally intended. It certainly seemed like it would have been the better option; Astrid undoubtedly would have preferred it. And he could have just hung out with Toothless and maybe figured out the problem with his newest spell. In short, it would have better for everyone involved.

So, naturally, he'd done the opposite.

Typical Hiccup.

It was a special skill to be able to screw up just by being where you were supposed to be. Luckily for Hiccup, he seemed to have such a skill in excess.

Closing his book, perhaps a little more loudly than he ought to have, Hiccup tucked it back into his satchel and deposited it back at his feet with a small thump. And then he laid his forearms back on the desk in front of him and began to roll his wand back and forth across the table, gently batting it from left to right as he waited for class to end.

Sighing again, Hiccup raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Haddock?"

"May I be excused?" Hiccup asked. "To – er – visit the restroom?"

"Can't it wait until the end of class?"

"No, sir. I don't think so. It's an emergency." Hiccup said, even though it most assuredly wasn't. He was almost certain that Professor Xavier knew he didn't actually need to use the facilities, and a very small part of Hiccup felt a twinge of guilt for taking advantage of the man's kind nature, but he was tired of waiting for class to end.

"If you must," Professor Xavier said.

"Thank you, sir."

Hastily, Hiccup stashed his wand in the pocket of his robes and slid down from his seat, glad to be nearly free.

As he drew his robes tighter around himself and stepped clear of his seat to pick up his satchel, he learned that he'd forgotten to untangle his leg from the strap of his satchel after he'd picked it up to put his book away. And instead of stepping clear of his chair as he'd initially intended to do, he ended up stumbling into a single hop before he lost his balance entirely and, in his desperate attempt to not end up on the floor, tipped their alchemy kit off the desk instead.

Crystal shattered against stone, leaving an ugly puddle of opaque yellow-green liquid scattered with smoking shards and a chunk of turquoise lay only a few feet away, melting into the cracks between the tiles.

With a chorus of snickering behind him, Hiccup bent to untangle his legs from his satchel, his ears burning, although less from the public embarrassment and more from Astrid's glare. He didn't even have to look at her to know she was seething – he could feel it.

Setting his satchel on his seat, he squeezed his eyes closed as though to summon his courage and finally turned to face her.

"One job, Haddock," Astrid said softly, which was, as it turned out, considerably more intimidating than if she'd simply shouted at him. Her silver-blue eyes held on him, and he kept as still as he might if she had a blade at his throat, which the look on her face suggested she might be considering. "Don't touch anything. That was literally all you had to do."

Hiccup opened his mouth to say something – despite the fact that experience told him doing so was perhaps an even worse idea – and by some miracle, no words came out. None at all.

"No? Nothing to say? No excuses this time? Finally," Astrid rolled her eyes and turned her attention to packing up her things.

The bell rang.

"You can clean this one up yourself."

And without another word, Astrid Hofferson swept out of the room and was gone.

---

Inky black waters splashed against his ears and chin as he struggled to keep his mouth and nose above water, kicking his legs with all his might and clawing at the weight on his chest as the sky seemed to close in on him, crushing him from above and intent on forcing him entirely underwater. No matter how much he fought, he couldn't fend off the insatiable darkness. It had already swallowed the moon and the stars above, and now it was going to consume him too.

Desperately filling his lungs with what little oxygen remained, Jack took one last breath as the waters rose to flood the sky. His body felt cold and disconnected as he fought to escape to no avail, his lungs aching like they may burst until the water forced its way in there, too.

Gasping for breath, Jack awoke in his bed, cold sweat dripping down his spine even though his bedsheets had long since been kicked into a ball at his feet. Pulling the neckline of his bed shirt away from his throat, he took a deep breath. His throat felt raw, as though he'd been screaming, and his lungs ached, even though he couldn't for the life of him remember why.

Throwing open the curtains of his four-poster, Jack swung his legs off the bed. Although most of the room's fabrics were a vibrant goldenrod colour by day, at present the room was cloaked entirely in black and navy, illuminated only by the silver light of the moon through the room's high windows.

Grabbing one of the hoodies that had been haphazardly discarded on the trunk at the foot of his bed, Jack pulled it over his head and made his way into the common room, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a clammy hand.

All memory of his dream long since forgotten, Jack lifted the latch, effortlessly turned the handle so the hinges wouldn't squeak and slipped out into the hallway, quieter than even a mouse.

The stone floors cool against his bare feet, Jack stuffed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, where he found half a box of the Trick Treats he'd purchased in Diagon Alley as well as a hastily-stashed length of pine. So that was where he'd left his wand.

Jack much preferred the school at night. There was just something about it that seemed to fit him in a way that daytime didn't. He supposed it was the lack of company – at night, he had practically the whole school to himself. In the daytime, the hallways were crowded, which somehow only seemed to compound just how alone he was. At least at night, when it was just him, everything looked as it truly was.

Although he hadn't intended on any specific destination when he'd set out, he soon found himself at the entrance of the Trophy Room on the third floor.

Half-paying attention as he ventured inside, Jack drew his wand from his pocket and absentmindedly ran it along the familiar ledges that he'd dusted and polished countless times over the last seven years. By now, he'd practically memorized the correct placements of every plaque and cup in the room, and most of the names that adorned them, too.

Furls of frost budded and bloomed on the edges of each shelf as he passed, curling up the sides of trophies and awards like vines of some otherworldly beast from the greenhouses, intent on claiming their prize.

At the end of the hall, Jack paused in front of the plaque from the previous year. Hufflepuff had won on a technicality thanks to Slytherin's hotheaded seeker. Astrid, naturally, had wanted a rematch – she loved to win, but she didn't want anyone to make the mistake of thinking her team had just been lucky. But despite his captain's disdain for their achievement, this was the only item in the entire school bearing Jack's name that would remain once he graduated, and so Jack was particularly fond of it. It was the only permanent mark he'd managed to make during his time as a student.

The rest of his time at Hogwarts School would be forgotten as easily as winter snows come spring.

Unless, of course, he managed to do something truly impressive with his life – but what were the chances of that? He wasn't an especially strong student in any of his classes and Jack had lost count of the times he'd been called a lost cause – by former foster families, teachers, neighbours, even local law enforcement on occasion. And now, with quidditch cancelled for the year, he'd lost his access to scouts.

As it was, he was already at a steep disadvantage – he had no money for expensive quidditch summer programs and the family that was fostering him would no longer be obligated to support him financially by the time he graduated, not that he even thought something like that would ever be considered an obligation by his caseworkers. And worse, he came from nothing and had no family connections to help him with introductions to decision-makers in the field, like those born of wizard-born families could. Getting scouted on the pitch was his only opportunity to be someone, and it had melted away as easily as frost in the sun.

---

Textbooks were spread out across the coffee table, all over the arms and empty seats of the couch and some even splayed open on the floor at her feet. And even though she'd been at it for nearly six hours already, she didn't feel any closer to finishing her transfiguration paper. In fact, she'd been staring at the same two pages of the tome in her hands for so long that all words had ceased to have meaning – not that she'd understood them in the first place.

Leaning back into the couch, she held the book over her face and sighed with exasperation.

Her classes had turned out to be far more difficult than she had anticipated, and by the end of her second day, she'd been totally confused by the colour coding system that Hogwarts used to differentiate between beginner and advanced level classes. Initially, she'd thought that the green and red robes of her first day teachers had been the colours indicative of beginner courses, but her second day courses had brought her teachers robed in hues of yellow and purple, and the third day had introduced shades of grey, orange and blue, too.

But, Rapunzel had reasoned, perhaps that was part of the Sorting Hat's job, too. Sorting students into not only houses but class levels too. And if the Sorting Hat had looked into her mind and thought that she was ready for more advanced classes, then she must have been.

But that knowledge did little to ease the increasing frustration she felt.

Regardless of what colour-level her class was, she seemed to be falling behind in almost all of them, and in what had begun to feel like a daily occurrence, she contemplated whether her professors were speaking in another language entirely. After all, she had spent so much of her life with her nose buried in a book – and yet somehow, at school, the words swam on the page until her eyes, her head and eventually her whole body hurt just from looking at them.

"Er, are you doing okay?"

The book hit her lap with a painful THUMP! as she sat bolt upright.

Fishel stood at the edge of her book fort, his hands pressed together as though he didn't know what else to do with them.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Rapunzel sighed, smoothing out the book's ruffled pages and groaning inwardly as she thought of what the librarian would say when she returned the book in less than pristine condition. "But I am starting to wonder if Transfiguration is even a real branch of magic."

"Ah," Fishel nodded, grinning. "I think we've all had those days. What are you working on? Maybe I could try reframing it for you? If-if you want, that is."

The knot in the pit of her stomach began to ease slightly, and she nodded eagerly. "That would be great."

Stacking the books, most of which had originally been laying open on the couch, in a neat pile on the table, Fishel took a seat next to her. "So what is it you're having trouble with?"

"All of it," Rapunzel admitted, sighing.

It was hardly an exaggeration. In all of her reading, the only thing she understood about transfiguration was that it transformed one thing into another, and even then she was starting to wonder whether that was entirely true.

Turning back to the book in her lap, she ran her index finger down the page. "How about this one? I'm not sure what Planck's constant is or how arithmetic determines the outcome of a spell."

"Huh, um, okay," Fishel frowned but nodded as he read through the passage that she had indicated. "Right, okay, yeah. So in transfiguration, you use Planck's constant to-"

"Pfft," A scoff drew their attention to the other couch as one of their housemates flopped down onto it, his lips pulled back into something that seemed part snarl and part smirk. "Planck's constant? Wow, you must be even more hopeless than I thought."

Fishel rolled his eyes. "As I was saying-"

"I mean, it makes sense that you'd still be working on stupid baby stuff like some dumb first year, but c'mon Fishface," Snorri drawled, raising his brows as a younger student settled on the other side of the couch to work on what looked to be a letter home. When the little Gryffindor caught his eye and promptly fled, Snorri drew his feet up onto the couch and stretched out like a cat, his shoes crunching against the deposit of the grit and grass they left on the leather.

"Oh, no, that's not-"

"It's fine, Rapunzel," Fishel sighed and rolled his eyes once more. "He's just doing it for attention. Let's get back to Planck's constant, shall we?"

Rapunzel nodded and tried to swallow the lump that had risen in her throat, but found her mouth had gone dry.

Not content to be ignored, Snorri ran a hand through his dark hair and flashed his most charming grin at Rapunzel. "Honestly, you'd probably be better off just giving up now, Rachel – it is Rachel, isn't it? I mean, I bet they don't even teach Planck's constant anymore because it's so easy that even the dumbest first years already know it by the time they start Hogwarts. I know I did. If Fishface hasn't figured it out by now, I think it's safe to say he's a lost cause."

His remark hit her like a punch in the gut.

Was Planck's constant something she should already know? Is that why it wasn't explained in any of the textbook reading that she and her classmates had been given? Why they discussed using Planck's constant so frequently in class, but had never once stopped to talk about what Planck's constant actually was? Were there other things she ought to know as well but didn't?

Rapunzel felt like she was going to be sick. Vaguely, she was aware of the sound of a book hitting the floor as she pulled at the collar of her shirt, pulling the too-tight fabric away from her throat as it threatened to choke her.

A man's voice called out something that almost sounded like her name as she pushed through the portrait hole and out into the hall, but she didn't look back.

She needed to get outside.

Now.

No, not just outside. As far from this awful place as she could possibly get.

Far away from the strangely colour-coded teachers that didn't seem to follow any sort of coherent pattern and classes that didn't seem to actually teach anything. Far away from the library's worth of knowledge that her professors seemed to expect her to somehow already know that she didn't, and the snickers of her classmates whenever she asked a question. Far away from reading assignments for books she didn't own and no mentions of the ones from the booklist they'd sent her which they had barely afforded.

Hogwarts made less and less sense every day.

Mother had been right about everything.

And had she listened? No, of course she hadn't, because she was just a stupid little girl who'd never left the confines of the cottage she shared with Mother. Mother knew best, and had tried to protect her from all of it. And how had she thanked her? By abandoning her at the first opportunity.

Rapunzel was a terrible daughter.

A terrible daughter and a lost cause.

Perhaps that was why she'd been put into Gryffindor. Because the hat thought if she had the nerve to leave someone who just wanted what was best for her, perhaps she was too bold for her own good. And maybe she didn't even exemplify the traits of each of the houses either – perhaps the hat had been joking when it said that to her. She always took everything too seriously and didn't know how to take a joke – Mother always said so – so why should this be any different?

Or perhaps the hat had only said all those nice things because it could tell that she was well out of her depth and it felt sorry for her. Because it knew that she was ditsy and naive and nowhere near intelligent enough to even make heads nor tails of Hogwarts' colour-coded academic levels, let alone learn anything in her classes.

Or worse. Perhaps that hat had put her into Gryffindor as some kind of punishment.

To teach her a lesson about not listening to Mother.

Because surely none of the other houses could be as impossibly far from any sort of exit as Gryffindor Tower.

Regardless of the real reason she'd been sorted into Gryffindor, that didn't change the fact that she wanted to go home.

She'd have to write to Mother, but how long would that take? She'd written to Mother on her very first day at Hogwarts and had yet to hear back. Surely Mother would have written her back if she'd received the letter, wouldn't she?

And yet Rapunzel had received no reply.

Was Owl Mail just terribly slow, or had something happened? Had Dreamsand been unable to find the cottage in the valley? Or had they gotten sick or injured on the way and been unable to deliver the letter? Had Mother been so distraught that she'd died of a broken heart, abandoned and alone in the cottage they'd shared?

Bile rose in her throat as she was nearly sick at the mere thought.

Mother had been so accommodating, too. Preparing her for Hogwarts with nary a complaint, and giving her every opportunity to change her mind. So many opportunities. Why hadn't she taken one?

Because she was a terrible daughter who had no regard for the sacrifices Mother had made for her. She'd been so determined to come here and see everything for herself that she'd brushed off and ignored everything Mother had done to keep her safe. She was a failure as a student and as a daughter.

How could Mother ever forgive her for that?

Well, even if Mother could and did forgive her, Rapunzel was certain of one thing.

She would never, ever forgive herself for all of the pain she had caused to the person who loved her most.

Suddenly, Rapunzel's stomach lurched as the floor gave way under her.

Her world warped by tears, she pulled at her leg, trying to free herself. But it wouldn't budge, no matter how much she pulled, instead staying firmly embedded up to the ankle in stone.

A fresh wave of panic flooded through her, even though she was still struggling for breath in the first one.

Hogwarts really was going to eat her alive.

"Let me go," Rapunzel cried out, but her throat wouldn't cooperate. The words stuck in her throat, as sharp as broken glass and threatening to choke her. "Let me go!"

The dam broke.

As tears began to streak down her cheeks, she gave up and sat on the steps. Using her sleeves to cover her face, she bit her trembling lip to stifle a sob. Mother always said that the only thing crying ever gave you was a blotchy face, but try as she might, Rapunzel just couldn't stop herself.

She supposed it was only fitting that she failed at that, too.

Hiccoughing, she ran her hands through her impossibly long locks and leaned against the bannister. As she drew her robes tighter around herself, she felt something poke her in the ribs. Digging her hands into her pocket to find the offending item, she drew out a strip of polished birch with a simple bevelled handle.

Her wand.

Drying her eyes on her sleeve, she stood abruptly and pointed her wand at the stone step that held her foot captive.

"Finite Incantatem."

She lifted her foot.

Or, at least, she tried to.

Maybe she hadn't done the spell correctly.

Eyes closed and nose scrunched in concentration, she tried again. And then again with clearer enunciation. Keeping her wand still. Emphasizing different syllables. Holding her wand with both hands. With a more lyrical cadence. Flourishing her wand this way and that. Louder. More desperate. "Finite Incantatem. Finite Incantatem. Finite Incantatem."

But every time she attempted to move her foot, it remained exactly as it had been, ankle-deep in an ancient slab of grey limestone.

With a final sigh, Rapunzel lowered herself back onto the steps, her heart sinking.

Finite Incantatem was a beginner spell. She knew because it was one of the very first spells listed in the beginner spellbook she'd brought with her. The spellbook from the beginner's book list that Mother had taken with her to Diagon Alley. She'd seen the spell performed countless times over her first week at Hogwarts. It was a simple counter-spell and certainly a necessity in the magical world.

Perhaps she just wasn't destined to be part of the magical world.

Or perhaps she was, as the girl stuck in a staircase for the rest of forever.

Staring down at the wand in her hand, with its smooth, polished handle, Rapunzel sighed, wondering if it usually took this long for beginner students to learn how to do something magical. She'd certainly felt magical when Mother had returned from work one evening and surprised her with it.

It had been one of the happiest moments of her life.

Because even though she'd known she was a witch when she'd received her Hogwarts letter, she hadn't truly felt like a witch until the day she'd received her wand. Mother had been so proud, misty-eyed and smiling as she kissed her on the forehead and told her that she loved her and that she knew Rapunzel would make her proud at Hogwarts.

But now, as she sat on the steps, Rapunzel wondered if she ever would.

She was only a week into her schooling, but she couldn't help being more than a little disappointed in herself.

Transfiguration wasn't the only class she was already struggling with, after all. It was, perhaps, the one she was struggling with the most, but charms, defence against the dark arts and even her disapparation class had all yielded the same results. She hadn't even been able to produce a single spark of magic in any of her classes, even though she'd been certain she'd followed all of the instructions.

But, she supposed, she must have been doing something wrong, else the spell would have worked.

Unless the problem was her.

Perhaps her wand wouldn't work because her magic wasn't strong enough.

Or perhaps she'd never had any magic in the first place.

But Hogwarts had found her and sent her a letter, surely that couldn't be a mistake, could it?

Stuffing her wand back into her pocket, she clasped her hands and set them in her lap for a moment, absentmindedly running a thumb across her palm where a cut from a shard of broken crystal had been healed without a trace only a few days prior.

Blinking, the blonde twisted around, her eyes coming to rest on a wooden frame that was hanging on the wall.

"Hello," Rapunzel breathed a sigh of relief and cast a sheepish grin at the painting's current resident, a wizard whose rich cobalt robes called back to another era entirely and who smiled brightly when he caught her eye. "Could I ask you for a favour?"

The portrait swept his cloak over his shoulder with a flourish as he bowed towards her. "I am yours to command, my Lady."

"Could you help me find Felix? I'm stuck."

"As you wish," The man vanished from his frame.

A few moments later, the man from the portrait returned, followed shortly after by a familiar blond-haired man dressed all in blue, panting slightly from having sprinted up the stairs.

"Felix!"

"Rapunzel! Are you hurt?" Felix halted a few steps down from her, balling his blue cap in his hands. "Sir Flynnigan said that you needed help."

"Oh, yes, I'm okay." Rapunzel ducked her head, her brows knitting together. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

"Thank goodness!" Felix returned his crumpled hat to his head. "I sure am glad to hear that."

"But," Rapunzel said, getting to her feet once more. "I could use a hand. I'm stuck."

Felix nodded, the corners of his lips quirking upwards. "I can fix that!"

With a single flick of Felix's wand, Rapunzel's foot popped free of its stone captor. Sighing with relief, Rapunzel rubbed her ankle, which had gained a strange pins-and-needles feeling the moment it was freed from its prison. And then, clinging to the bannister for dear life, she hobbled down to the safety of the landing, gingerly putting more weight on her newly freed foot with each step.

"Thank you, Felix," Rapunzel said, turning back to the older wizard with a smile.

"All in a day's work!" Felix brushed his gloved hands together as he descended the last few steps to join her on the landing, then gestured with both hands towards both directions of the staircase. "Where are you headed?"

"Oh," Rapunzel said softly, crossing one arm over her chest to clutch the opposite elbow, anxiety coiled within her.

Felix had been so kind to her. What would he say if he knew the truth – that she'd been about to abandon her education and run away, leaving school for good? Would he be angry with her? Or worse, would he be disappointed in her? A lump began to rise in her throat as she remembered the pile of transfiguration books she'd left upstairs unsupervised, and what the librarian would say when she returned them to the library in less than pristine condition – if they hadn't already been stolen.

She should go back to her books, but as she glanced back at the mountain of stairs leading back up to her dorm, her chest tightened. She couldn't go back. Not yet.

"You know, I was just headed down to the greenhouses," Felix said suddenly, his hands coming to rest on his tool belt. "Say, if you're not too busy, you're welcome to join me. I sure could use the company."

Thankful for an excuse not to return to her books, Rapunzel nodded eagerly and attempted to swallow the lump that had risen in her throat. "That sounds nice."

The corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled, Felix gestured to the stairs with one gloved hand and down they went.

As the sound of their footsteps echoed down the stairwell, Rapunzel pulled her braid over her shoulder, smoothing the tail of it subconsciously. "I meant to thank you again, Felix. I don't know how I would have survived my first day of class if I hadn't run into you."

"Oh, well, that's mighty kind of you, but I'm sure you'd have been fine without my help," Felix said, his already ruddy cheeks seeming to flush even brighter red with praise. "I imagine you're much more capable than you think you are."

Rapunzel's stomach dropped, just as it had when the stairs above had given way, although this time she had both feet safely on the ground instead of in it. So she ducked her head and smoothed her braid. "I'm not so sure about that."

Felix's brow creased as his blue eyes found her green ones. "What makes you say that?"

"Transfiguration," Her shoulders sank and she sighed. "I just don't understand – really, any of it. It feels like it's in another language altogether – there must be something wrong with me because no one else seems to be struggling as much as I am."

"Well, I wouldn't be so sure about that," Felix said. "Transfiguration is one of the trickiest types of magic, and I know lots of students who have had trouble with it over the years – yours truly included."

"Really?"

"Really," Felix smiled at her. "Have you tried talking to Professor Frizzle about the difficulty you've been having?"

Her golden braid tugged in her grasp as Rapunzel shook her head. "I didn't want to bother her. I'm sure she's got much more important things to do than go over the lesson she just finished teaching."

"I'm sure she'd be mighty pleased if you asked her questions about Transfiguration," Felix said. "Trust me, she's awful nice – one of the nicest folks I know. A real dynamite gal, to be sure. And she's always happy to help anyone who asks – student or otherwise."

"Well, that's good to know," Rapunzel said, finally letting go of her braid. As she and Felix pushed open the main doors and stepped out into the autumn sunshine, Rapunzel breathed a sigh and turned to Felix. "And – what about the other professors?"

"Well, I reckon they wouldn't be very good teachers if they didn't help students who need it," Felix said. "Which classes are you having trouble with?"

Rapunzel scrunched up her face, trying to remember all of the classes on her schedule, counting them on her fingers as she spoke. "Uh, let's see... charms, defence against the dark arts, potions, voodoo, alchemy, arithmancy... pretty much everything except for astronomy and maybe herbology."

"That sounds like a doozy of a workload!"

"It really is."

"If you're struggling, I think the best thing to do would be to speak with your head of house or Deputy Headmaster Grimm," Felix nodded and settled with his hands on his tool belt once more. "Professor Grimm will know what to do."

"Professor Grimm," Rapunzel repeated, nodding eagerly as a relieved smile spread across her freckled face. "Thanks, Felix!"

"I'm just happy to help, honest," Felix said, matching her smile. And as she turned and hurried back towards the castle, he called after her. "Second floor, at the end of the hall past the stained glass enchantress!"

---

Smoothing her robes for what felt like the thousandth time, Rapunzel came to a halt in front of a large oak door, the polished brass name plaque confirming that she'd finally managed to find her way to the correct room. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she raised a hand to the intricately carved brass doorknocker fastened above the plaque, its ring discoloured in the middle, well worn by many years of use.

Lifting the ring, she knocked thrice against the heavy wooden door, each rap echoing down the corridor with a deep thud.

Her fingers had barely released the brass handle when the door swung inwards, and she was greeted by a scowling Professor Grimm.

"Miss Gothel, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir," Rapunzel said, ducking her head as guilt began to coil in the pit of her stomach. Was she not supposed to bother her professors on days when they didn't have classes? Part of her wanted to flee, but she tried to steady herself with a deep breath and continued. "I was wondering if you had a moment to talk?"

Professor Grimm nodded curtly and stepped back, gesturing for her to enter his domain. As she stepped over the threshold into the office, Rapunzel was awed by the sight of three rows of tall bookshelves by the entrance and a large square rug that stretched from the edge of the room's most inset row of bookshelves to the massive floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the grounds.

One of the largest wooden desks she had ever seen stood in front of the window, home to a stack of parchment paper and one very tall bright green feather quill. As she made her way across the dark hardwood and onto the brightly coloured rug, Rapunzel noticed that the walls on either side of the Professor's desk housed numerous paintings – portraits, she realized with delight as she craned her neck, trying to get a better look at each one as she passed.

"If you don't mind, Miss Gothel," Professor Grimm said, gesturing towards a high-backed chair in the same rich shade of scarlet as the rug.

Rapunzel dipped her head apologetically and took a seat. Settling into the plush high-backed chair, she realized that the chair on the other side of the desk, which was now occupied by Professor Grimm, was not an identical twin to the one in which she sat. Instead, Professor Grimm's seat was the same wine-coloured velvet that Mother loved so very much, and Rapunzel's smile faltered for a moment as she felt the familiar ache of homesickness to accompany her guilt.

Trying to ignore the hollow, empty feeling in her chest, she focused her attention on the Deputy Headmaster, although the look on his face did nothing to ease how she felt.

"Tea?"

"Yes, please," Rapunzel nodded gratefully.

Professor Grimm waved his wand in a small arc, and a tea trolley that she hadn't noticed before rolled out from beside a bookshelf, a large china teapot decorated with a simple ivy pattern stood in the centre, steam rising from its spout and the pieces in its matching set rattling as the trolley sped onto the carpet.

Despite having already spent nearly a whole week at Hogwarts School, Rapunzel couldn't help but be mesmerized as the cups turned themselves right-side-up on their saucers and the teapot and milk jug hovered over each cup in turn, pouring milk into one and hot tea into both. A matching pair of small silver spoons hopped across the top shelf of the trolley, adding sugar to the cup that already contained both milk and tea, while the other spoon deposited itself next to the cup of plain black tea.

She'd seen magic performed at home, of course, because Mother was a witch. But Hogwarts was different – it seemed like everything at Hogwarts was magical. Rapunzel couldn't say she'd ever seen a floating teapot or self-driving tea tray at their little cottage in the valley.

As his cup of tea settled down on the desk in front of him, Professor Grimm turned his attention to her as she poured milk into the remaining teacup.

Holding her teacup carefully on her lap, Rapunzel took a deep breath. "I'm sorry to interrupt your Saturday – I'm sure you have a lot of very important things to do today. Sir."

"Yes, well, it is a rare pleasure indeed to have a student seek me out so early in the term," Professor Grimm studied her from across his desk. "So I'm sure whatever it is that you've come to speak with me about is important, too."

A lump rose in her throat, and one hand found her thick golden braid as it had so many times before. Perhaps she oughtn't have come to Professor Grimm so soon. Perhaps she should have tried speaking with her professors first. Would they be angry with her if they found out she hadn't talked to them first? Or worse, would she get them in trouble?

Talking to Professor Grimm had seemed like such a clear solution when Felix had suggested it, but now, as she sat in his office with a cup of tea balanced precariously on her lap with one hand and the other compulsively smoothing the end of her braid, her concerns suddenly seemed far less pressing than they had only an hour prior.

"Any day, Miss Gothel," Professor Grimm prompted, tilting his head for extra emphasis.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your Saturday. Sir." Rapunzel repeated, feeling very much like she was going to be sick.

"Yes, you already said that."

Every fibre of her being aching with regret, she desperately tried to ignore the grandfather clock in the corner, which seemed to be ticking louder by the second. One hand still gripping the tail of her braid, she took a deep breath.

"I-" Her breath caught in her throat. "I just didn't expect my first year at Hogwarts to be so difficult."

"Ah, I see," Professor Grimm nodded knowingly. "Well, the transition to Hogwarts can be especially challenging for some students, even those from magical families, especially for those who transfer to our campus as late as yourself, but soon you'll make friends and then you'll be settled in no time at all."

Her grip loosened on her braid and she sighed, finally meeting Professor Grimm's gaze. "Well, that's good to know. There's just so much about Hogwarts that I don't understand yet – I've been trying to figure out the level assignments all week, and if I'm being completely honest, I'm still not sure I fully understand it."

"Pardon me?"

"I mean, I still don't quite understand the colour coding for classes, but I'm sure it'll make sense to me eventually. Although, for some reason, I thought that they'd all be the same level but I guess that's on me," Rapunzel tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "And I trust the Sorting Hat, I really do, but I am finding some of the other levels a bit advanced... I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for so many at once."

Professor Grimm stared at her. "Miss Gothel, what in Morgana's name are you going on about?"

"My – my classes," She said, before beginning again. "I'm having trouble. With some of them. All of the blue and orange level groupings, at least. And I know the green level ones are supposed to be easier, but I still feel like I'm missing something."

"Miss Gothel," Professor Grimm rubbed his temples. "I am sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems your classmates have played a rather nasty trick on you. Hogwarts class levels are divided by year, not colour. I can assure you that all of your class assignments this term are seventh-level classes, as befits an upper-year student such as yourself."

Rapunzel gaped at him, then shook her head. "That can't be right."

"What can't be right?"

"I can't be a seventh-level student. I've never been to school before."

"How very humorous," Professor Grimm said drily. "A technicality of presence on campus will do you no favours. NEWT examinations will be upon us in no time at all, and Hogwarts must ensure you are adequately prepared to take them. Leniency, while you adjust from homeschooling to on-campus learning, will only hinder your learning journey."

And then, as clear as a ray of sun piercing the clouds after rain, Rapunzel realized where the mistake had been made.

"But sir," Rapunzel said. "I wasn't homeschooled."

"I beg your pardon?"

"My magic developed late – I didn't even know I was a witch until this summer. Mother and I were so surprised when my letter arrived. Coming to Hogwarts has always been my dream, but I couldn't before, of course, because I didn't have any magic"

Professor Grimm pressed steepled fingers against his lips. "Miss Gothel, this is a very serious accusation."

"Sir?"

"What you're suggesting would be an enormous – not to mention legally reprehensible – breach of the Ministry's policy on homeschooling," Professor Grimm's narrowed green eyes were locked on her. "You mean to tell me that your mother failed to follow the academic guidelines laid out by the Ministry of Magic? She didn't teach you anything?"

"I-" Rapunzel stared down at the ripples across the surface of her teacup, trying to ignore the chill that had taken hold of her body as her blood froze to ice in her veins. She opened her mouth, then closed it again when her breath hitched in her throat.

Mother was supposed to have been homeschooling her? But how could she have, when they hadn't even known she was a witch until that summer? Was Mother supposed to have taught her magic anyway, even if they'd both thought she was just a squib? That seemed a bit cruel – especially for anyone who turned out to be a squib.

Besides, Mother probably didn't even know about the Ministry guidelines that Professor Grimm had mentioned. After all, Rapunzel was certain that Mother would have been happy to teach her magic if either of them had believed she'd had any. Mother loved her so much and would never have held her back from learning magic if she'd known.

Or perhaps Mother did know about the Ministry guidelines and had been teaching Rapunzel the entire time without Rapunzel even realizing it. After all, she had taught Rapunzel how to care for her beloved Sundrop Lilies, tend the other herbs and plants in the garden, and even bake – which was practically the squib version of potions anyway.

The thought made Rapunzel's stomach lurch as though the floor had given way from under her.

Mother had been teaching her all along!

And now, if Mother was even still alive and hadn't withered away and died of a broken heart from having been abandoned by her only child, Rapunzel had just accused her of a crime she hadn't even committed. What if the Ministry of Magic got Mother into trouble? Mother would be positively distraught.

She had to be the worst daughter in the history of daughters.

Frantically, she shook her head. "Nononono, that's not what I meant at all."

Professor Grimm's brows twitched and he folded his hands together on the desk. "Then, by all means, Miss Gothel, please tell me what you did mean."

Heart pounding in her chest, Rapunzel bit her lip to stop it from trembling.

"So, what I meant," Rapunzel began slowly, before pausing to take a long sip from her teacup as Grimm watched her with narrowed eyes. Her mind was racing, grasping desperately for words, any words.

And then she nearly choked on her tea.

The teacup clattering against the saucer as she reunited it with its mate, she involuntarily sprayed half a mouthful of tea all over Professor Grimm's desk. Grinning sheepishly, she set her saucer on the desk and wiped off the droplets of tea with her sleeve, still coughing on the tea she had inhaled.

When she finally managed to regain her composure, her entire face felt flushed and hot. She clasped her hands in her lap and began again. "So what I mean to say is that you've been Rapunzel'd."

"I beg your pardon?"

"It was all a trick! And you fell for it! I got you!" Rapunzel said, smoothing her skirts as she stood. "Anyway, I have to go now! Thank you for the tea. Sir. Bye!"

"Miss Gothel!" Professor Grimm sputtered furiously and his face flushed even redder than Rapunzel's own had been just moments prior. He rose to demand she return, but by the time he'd managed to find his words, she was already well out of earshot, having fled to the safety of the hallway and broken into a run the moment her feet crossed the threshold.

Heart pounding in her chest and lungs burning, she clambered down the stairs as fast as she could and didn't look back, as though if she ran fast enough and far enough, perhaps she might be able to outrun Professor Grimm's anger.

She was going to be in the biggest trouble of her entire life. Certainly more trouble than when she'd spilled juice on Mother's favourite dress or when she'd gone into Mother's room while she wasn't home.

Would she be punished for this?

Or worse, would she be thrown out of school?

If she was, it was a punishment she had brought upon herself. No matter what they did to her, she had most definitely brought this all upon herself.

How in the world had she managed to screw that up so much? Clearly she couldn't be trusted to speak to anyone, especially not any of her teachers, else she might end up implicating someone else in crimes they hadn't committed.

Surely, she should never talk to another human being ever again, or somehow she'd end up getting Mother thrown in Azkaban.

She never should have come here. Mother had been right that she'd be out of her depth at Hogwarts. She was so out of her depth that she felt as though she was already drowning in all of the mistakes she'd made and the disappointment she'd already earned. How could she possibly survive another day here, let alone the rest of the school year?

It wasn't until she nearly collided with another person as they made their way up the grand staircase that she stopped running.

"Rapunzel?"

"Mother?!"

Rapunzel nearly burst into tears at the sight of her, and without thinking, she threw her arms around the dark-haired witch. It took a heartbeat for her to come back to her senses and she jumped back, crossing her arms over her chest and holding her own forearms in place, to keep herself from involuntarily clinging to the woman again.

Tears pricked at her eyes and her throat felt as though she'd just swallowed a mouthful of broken glass when she spoke. "What are you doing here?"

"You said in your letters that you don't have any of the correct textbooks, and I've come to speak with the deputy headmaster to set things straight," Mother said.

Unable to breathe, Rapunzel shook her head frantically, digging her nails in her forearms in an attempt to distract herself from the sudden ache in the pit of her stomach.

Everything was a mess and it was all her fault.

"Rapunzel, what in Morgana's name is going on?"

"Nonono, you can't see Professor Grimm," Rapunzel said, tears streaming down her cheeks as the floodgates broke. "He's going to get you in trouble."

"Shhhh shhh shhh," Glancing over her shoulder, she hushed the girl and ushered her off to the side of the staircase, talking in a low voice. "That's ridiculous. How could I be in trouble? I haven't been a student here in at least a decade."

"I told him I wasn't homeschooled," Rapunzel sobbed, trying her best to keep her volume down. "I thought I wasn't. I didn't know."

Mother's brows twitched as she stared at the girl, unmoving.

"So I told Professor Grimm it was all a trick and now I'm probably going to be thrown out of school, but I just couldn't let the Ministry take you away."

"Oh Rapunzel," Mother shook her head and sighed. "What have you done?"

"I'm sorry, Mother, I wasn't thinking. I didn't know."

"Nobody's going to take me away," Erzsebet raised a hand to her forehead and rubbed her temples. "What have I told you about lying? We thought you were a squib, I'm sure this was all just a simple clerical error."

"I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't mean to-"

"And yet you did anyway," Mother said sharply. "This would have been such a simple fix, Rapunzel, but now you've gone and made such a mess of the whole situation."

As Rapunzel began to stroke her braid again, Erzsebet sighed and opened her arms. Rapunzel didn't hesitate before wrapping herself in the offered embrace.

After a moment, Erzsebet pulled back and set her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Your lies have turned this situation into something well beyond the reach of what I can help you with. I'm afraid that you've made your bed, now you're going to have to lay in it."

Deflating, Rapunzel nodded solemnly. "I understand."

Mother sighed and stroked her hair. "I love you very much, dear."

"I love you more."

"I love you most." Mother planted a kiss on the top of her head, before pulling back and lifting the girl's chin. "Come on, stop your crying and wipe away those tears, you don't want your eyes to be all red and puffy."

Hiccoughing, Rapunzel wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

"Now, off you go, back to your dormitory," Erzsebet said, shooing the girl towards the grand staircase. "You'll need to study hard if you want to have any chance of catching up to your classmates. There's no time for any sort of dawdling or daydreaming now and perhaps you ought to give all your paints away, too."

"I'll miss y-" Rapunzel began as she turned back to face Erzsebet, stopping short when she found herself completely alone. She hadn't even heard the front doors open. "You."

With a deep ache in her chest, Rapunzel began her ascent to the Gryffindor dormitories, where a mountain of books filled with terms she didn't understand awaited her.

---

Character Cameos:
Fishel, Snorri, Ruffina & Tufford - Fishlegs, Snotlout, Ruffnut and Tuffnut
Professor Grimm - Headmaster Grimm from Ever After High. Disney Snow White's father in this AU.
Felix - Fix-it Felix Jr. from Wreck-It Ralph
Professor Knotgrass - Flora from Sleeping Beauty
Professor Grotke - Ms Grotke from Disney's Recess
Professor Xavier - Xavier the Blacksmith from Tangled: the Series
Professor Frizzle - Ms Frizzle from the OG Magic Schoolbus