Author's Notes

Becoming Calla was originally posted under another pen name on a site that I believe is now defunct. This was one of the first Harry Potter fan fiction stories I wrote back in 2012. It takes place during the next generation era and is very, very AU. Even though JKR's canon characters have minor parts, the main character (Calla Dursley, Dudley's daughter) and many others are my originals. For this very reason I thought the story was not well received at the time it was posted, and being discouraged I put it on the virtual shelf and forgot about it.

Shortly afterwards I discovered and began reading stories with a Severus Snape/Hermione Granger pairing. There was so much I loved about this ship, and I ran with it and did not look back!

It was only recently that I began thinking about my poor orphan story again, and after re-reading I decided that with a little editing and polishing I'd feel ok about putting it up here. It's a coming of age story that takes place mostly at Hogwarts and is rated T with an M rating for the last two chapters (additional warnings or triggers will be mentioned then). I'll be posting at least bi-weekly, depending how well my editing comes along.

If teen angst is not really your thing you are free to move along to something more to your liking. But if you are curious, please read and let me know what you think.

2040

Most children don't have detailed memories of events that took place when they were very young and, up until the summer I turned four, I was no exception. However, the recollections of one July morning are as clear to me now as if they had been etched in glass. That was the day my life changed forever.

Mum was pregnant with my brother Peter, and she began to have pre-term contractions when she was about six months along. There was a day of hushed telephone conversations between Mum, Daddy and the midwife, until she finally was taken to hospital. The doctor prescribed bed rest, not an easy feat for a busy woman who has a child, a job, and a house to take care of. I was a normal, active four-year-old, so the plan was that my Gran would come by on some days to help Mum, while other days I would stay at her house.

I loved my Gran. We always had so much fun together. She would tell me that I was her golden-haired princess, and I believed her, even though I was considered plain and a little chubby like Daddy. This time, though, I did not enjoy myself at her house as much as I usually did; my anxious thoughts about Mum made it impossible for me to relax. In my child's mind I was convinced that if I weren't at home, something would happen to Mum or the baby.

Gran was on the phone with Mum a lot one day, and I was pulling on her arm, feeling left out and tearful. Gran turned around in her chair to shush me when what I always used to call that thing suddenly took place for the first time. The phone seemed to fly out of her hand and landed on the floor, breaking into several pieces.

Gran jumped up immediately, her eyes wide. "Calla Irene Dursley," she shouted in a horrible voice, "what have you done?" She grabbed my arm roughly and thumped me down on the sofa.

Frightened, I began to wail. "I'm sorry, Grannie, I didn't break the phone, it just fell down!" Gran's inappropriate overreaction was terrifying, far worse than any of my recent fears or imaginings. Her tight expression and stiff posture managed to convey such repulsion and disgust towards me that I felt dirty, as if she were angry with me for soiling my knickers.

Gran gazed fixedly into my green eyes. "No. Not this," she said, through fiercely clenched teeth.

From that day on my Gran could never look directly into my eyes again.

2019

It was a bright day, filled with the promise of new beginnings. At least that's the kind of thing parents always said. For one eleven-year-old girl, it hadn't mattered at all what the day was like outside in London – it could have been raining jelly babies for all she cared – her real life was beginning for her in a faraway place, and that was all that counted. She didn't care that she was going to a new school and didn't know any of her classmates yet, except for maybe the cousins she had met only for the first time this summer. Calla Dursley sat alone on the Hogwarts Express, yet inwardly feeling confident and secure as she looked through the window at the collection of students hurrying past on the platform.

Calla's family didn't care much for long goodbyes. That was fine with Calla; she was anxious enough to get on with it and get herself to school. There had already been a long discussion between Calla and her parents last night at dinner and once again at breakfast, so there was really no need to prolong the farewell. Daddy's advice had sounded the same as what he always said at the end of one of his stories or recollections of his own school days at Smeltings. "Don't forget who you are Calla, work hard and you'll be able to make a place for yourself at school. You know how to find the right sort of people – that's almost the most important part."

Calla was pleased that her whole family had accompanied her through the magical wall that led to Platform 9 and 3/4 though. Daddy had mentioned that there had been times growing up when he had come along to King's Cross Station to pick up or drop off Cousin Harry, but admitted that he had never crossed over onto the magical platform. She had wondered then if Muggle families were banned from Platform 9 and 3/4, or if they just weren't comfortable going through the barrier. Now, as Calla looked out the window towards her family, she could see the mixture of terror and exhilaration on her father's face. This had been a large step for him. Mum looked up at him proudly, her arm tucked into his, while her brother Peter stood round-eyed with wonder, taking in the sight of the magnificent crimson locomotive and the flurry of students bustling past burdened with trunks, caged owls, and brooms.

The door to Calla's compartment opened, interrupting her daydreams of being popular and sought after at school.

"Are any of these seats taken?" a dark haired girl who looked about Calla's age asked in a strong Scottish accent. No sooner had Calla shaken her head no, the girl called out to two boys who entered the compartment with her. They took some time wrestling their heavy trunks and other belongings onto the storage racks before finally crowding onto the seat across from Calla. Three pairs of eyes met hers.

Putting on her best smile, Calla decided to break the ice. "I'm Calla Dursley. This will be my first year at Hogwarts. Why don't one of you move over and sit with me. You can't be comfortable over there!"

The girl moved across and sat next to Calla. "I'm Fiona Grant, and these are my friends," she said.

A tall, quiet looking blond boy spoke up first. "My name's Malcolm Gordon. It looks like we're all first years," he said.

"Alec McKenzie," said the second boy, grinning. He was small for his age, with a mess of faded ginger hair and a spattering of freckles covering his face. His right hand held a wand, and he was already flipping through a spell book lying across his lap. "I'm ready to try my wand out now – do you want to see what I can do?"

"Try out your wand?" the girl Fiona spoke up scornfully. "What have you been doing all this time at home then?"

"Do you all know how to do magic already?" Calla asked casually, not wanting the others to see her concern. "I'm from a Muggle family and didn't know that I needed to practice."

"No one really has been practicing. We're not supposed to do magic at home until we're seventeen," Fiona scolded her friend.

"Just calm down, Fiona," replied Alec. "What happens at home doesn't hurt anyone. The Ministry can't tell if the magic is done by me or someone else in my family," he smirked.

Fiona shook her head, the thick hair and fringe swishing around her face. "Shut it, idiot," she said, but her smile and tone of voice demonstrated the affection she felt for her friend.

At this point the whistle blew, the train gave a small lurch and began to move. Calla and her seatmates crowded themselves against the window to wave and catch last looks at their families. As they left the station, the Scottish boys were looking out the window eagerly, pointing out whatever struck their fancy, their loud comments sounding foreign in Calla's ears. She pulled a face and mouthed the word "boys" as she glanced at Fiona, but the other girl didn't seem to pick up on the cue to begin a conversation. Not getting the kind of response she wanted, Calla quietly sighed in frustration and looked out the window.

As they left the buildings and pedestrians of the city behind for the outlying areas, the boys began to quiet down. An older woman came down the aisle pushing a cart, and the students all made purchases. Even though Mum had given her a sandwich and fruit for the train, Calla bought a box of what she thought were jelly babies, proudly using her knuts for the first time. Calla's mother was not big on having a lot of sweets in the house except for special occasions, but this should count as one, Calla thought. She'd only eat a few and save the rest for another time.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans," noted Calla. "I've never seen this brand before."

Both boys seemed to be looking at her expectantly as Calla chose a light green colored one – perhaps it would be her favorite green apple flavor - and popped it into her mouth.

"Ugh, broccoli," she spat, to the accompaniment of the others' laughter. "Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Well it does say every flavor," snickered Alec, "You're lucky it was just broccoli. Some are way worse!"

Calla decided to laugh along with the joke, but put the box of Every Flavored Beans away, thinking that if all magical sweets were like this she wouldn't have any trouble keeping away from them at school.

The Hogwarts Express continued on through the rolling green countryside, the afternoon sunlight glinting through the windows. Each one of Calla's seatmates had brought out things to do or play with while they traveled, and she felt a momentary pang as she thought about her mobile left sitting in her room at home. It wasn't so bad, though. Malcolm read one of his school textbooks, Fiona played with a fluffy ball of something she called a 'Pygmy Puff,' while Alec gleefully continued to attempt as many magic spells as he could with rather mixed results. The three of them were from Scotland and obviously knew each other well, so it did not seem at all odd if Calla mostly listened to rather than participated in the conversations. She was learning a lot about Hogwarts and magic already just by paying attention to their talk! Calla had been given the book Hogwarts, A History by one of the Potter kids' aunts, but she had never liked reading large books, especially history textbooks, and had just skimmed over a bit of it. One section that she had read very carefully was the one describing the four Houses at Hogwarts, and Calla wondered how she would join one.

The afternoon wore on, and after Alec had melted his second chocolate frog into a puddle, Malcolm took out a deck of cards, asking who was in for a game called "Exploding Snap." It was similar to a Muggle card game Calla knew, and she happily joined them, needing very little instruction from the others. After a particularly noisy round of the game, the compartment door slid open and an older boy dressed in school robes poked his head in. Four heads looked up guiltily, but the boy smiled at them, introducing himself as August Barnes, a 6th year prefect.

"You firsties need to put your game away and put on school robes now," he instructed. "We will be arriving at the station soon. Pay attention when we get there and stay with the other first years."

Despite the cramped quarters, the four of them managed to get their robes down from the trunks and put them on with only a bit of pushing and bumping.

"He was wearing a yellow and black tie," Calla observed as she smoothed her robes over her jeans and t-shirt. "When will we get ours?"

"Ow, get off me Malcolm, that's your arm in my sleeve," Fiona complained, as the other boy nimbly ducked away. "He's a Hufflepuff; that's why his is yellow. We won't get ours 'til we get Sorted."

"Is there a House that's supposed to be the best?" Calla asked. Upon seeing the blank looks on her seatmates' faces, she continued, "You know, the one where a lot of the well known people have belonged to?"

Fiona rolled her eyes and gave a barely suppressed snort of laughter.

"Fiona, you goon! Quit giving her a hard time," exclaimed Alec. "Her family's Muggle; how's she supposed to know?"

Malcolm replied to Calla's question seriously. "It isnae like that at all. Your House chooses you rather than the other way round. You get put in the one that's best for you."

"Aye," said Alec. "It has somewhat to do with your personality."

"And your interests," added Fiona. "Why look at wee Malcolm here – he'll be in Ravenclaw for sure 'cause he's obsessed with his books."

That most certainly won't be my House, thought Calla.

"And what about you, Fiona?" Alec asked slyly. "Will you be in Slytherin? Do you think that the Sorting Hat will remember your family?" Fiona responded with a glare and an elbow in her friend's side. Calla wondered what that was all about when her thoughts were cut short by the train's shrill whistle.

They had arrived.

End Notes: As I thought through this timeline, I realized that the story will overlap the pandemic in our world. For the sake of sanity (both mine and yours!), let's pretend that this does not take place in my alternate universe.