Chapter on Monday will be delayed.

Through A Half-Breed's Eyes

Hello train, my old enemy. We meet again. Just thought I'd say that. Seriously, when can we start using magic to move to-and-from Hogwarts?

This time, Ginny practically grabbed me as soon as I stepped aboard (She was hiding in the corner, practically in ambush), and dragged me into a compartment.

The usual gang was all there, Weasley, Potter, Granger.

Almost immediately after I'm pulled inside, the door's slammed shut, warded quite heavily by Granger, and I'm directed to a seat between Ginny and Granger.

They then just sorta stared at each other for a bit. Mostly in confusion towards Ginny. Maybe about why she pulled me in.

Meanwhile, I'm just sitting here, waiting for them to say something.

Now, I knew about Ginny's little escapade over the summer (Good on her, seeing an opportunity to take down a more experienced combatant), but if they were here to brag, they'd have started already. Right now, they're just staring at me, waiting for the train to start.

Ah, I can feel the less-than-comfortable feeling of steel moving. Gonna put this down for now.

That's… not ideal.

Turns out, that something Ginny didn't tell me in her letter, was that the person she took down was, for all intents and purposes, a cultist.

A cultist aligned with the sort of people that are after Potter.

Pardon me while I go circle 'cultist' on the Big list of things that could and probably will attack Potter I've been compiling over the summer.

Right now, I've got the following things on it:

Cultist (Done)

Angels

Kraken

Elementals

Harpies

Vampires

Demons, again

Sharks

Rabid Politicians

Goats

Dragons

Aetheral Abominations

Rampaging Unicorns

Some sort of horrifying, unspeakable monstrosity born from the void between worlds, created for the sole purpose of causing Potter and those he loves misery

Towards the end, I think I might've gotten a bit silly.

Anyway, according to Granger (Which should really have shorthand. ATG?)

Anyway, ATG, the cultists are aligned against Harry, and if they're active, then things might be getting worse.

At that point, Weasley butted in, claiming that we should keep an eye out for Slytherins, and people who hang out with Slytherins.

I think he managed to bury his eyebrows in his hair when I told him, plain and simple, that my dad is a Slytherin. Needs to be, to figure out how to kill as many weird monsters as he does. Bravery's great, but sometimes, you really do need a plan.

Oh hey, someone's knocking on the door.

Together, we've revised the statement: Keep an eye on most Slytherins.

Malfoy was knocking on the door, but I have to say, Granger was on the ball this time.

She undid one ward, opened the door fully, asked the boy 'Are you planning on saying anything intelligent?'

And then slammed the door shut as soon as he opened his mouth.

Weasley's mouth is flat out open, and his breath sorta smells.

He's been stuttering for the past half-minute, and I can feel the train coming to a stop.

Maybe Ginny'll slap him to reboot him, or something. All I know, is it's not my problem.

So how was my summer…

Well, the biggest thing, is I'm no longer technically a bastard!

Turns out, what we were doing before was technically line theft.

Because apparently, just being the daughter of the reanimated corpse of an heiress to an ancient house, isn't quite enough to have her title passed down.

Over the summer, both mum would tend to stumble in at around half-past-four in the morning, with the sort of dazed stagger that signified that neither of them really wanted to be in

My bed is now currently on fire.

I'm not really complaining, but I thought I'd bring the topic up. It smells funny.

I mean, being who I am, I've already warded the important parts, keeping the flammability, but losing the degradation, but still. I'd put it out, but Ginny'd probably

Neither of them wanted to be in control at the moment.

But yeah, eventually they managed to convince the goblins (with money, lots of money) to convert the Cain line officially to a Matriarchal line, instate me as the Heiress (As apparently, while I'm technically applicable, neither mum is), and then open the vault again. We were able to pay it off with money inside of the vault already.

According to Mum, what eventually did it, was since she was never technically disowned after death (a normal practice, but sorta hard to do when everyone's dead) she had technically claimed her own title from herself via rite of conquest. She had to challenge herself for the title of Head of House, lose, then declare the other equal via some rite.

She's also considered opening our other vault, but none of us are sure whether it's a good idea.

Hell… Ginny's voice gets incredibly shrill when she's furious. She'd be able to pull off a banshee impression, no problem.

My headboard now has a small crater in it. Ginny must've been practising her spells.

Right, so what was I going to talk about next?

Right.

The speech.

So

Quidditch this year is cancelled.

As probably expected, Ginny's not taking it well. I'm letting her vent, not even going to try to stop her.

All of the Quidditch practice she did over the summer, isn't exactly going to be seeing much use, is it.

I mean, I didn't expect her to actually scream in anguish when the Headmaster announced it, but man, she drew quite a few looks of amusement, annoyance, and even understanding.

She's finally slowing down now, having successfully killed a table, six chairs, and redecorating the walls in our room in a new, and unique fashion. I'm actually pretty amazed she's lasted this long.

I can also hear girls panicking on either side of us, because apparently no one besides me likes the smell of burning wood at 10:00 at night.

Anyway, rather than Quidditch, they're hosting some kind of tournament instead, and judging by the heavy-duty magical cup-artifact thing they were showing off, it's a reasonably-well known one. I don't even know what it's about,

but I am willing to bet that, one way or another, Potter's going to be involved.

I of course, did the smart thing, and bet with several people that Potter is going to be involved in the tournament. I'm down fifteen galleons in total, but I get a feeling that I gambled on an assured win.

Someone's knocking on our door, quite angrily, but Ginny can't hear it, what with her freak out, and I can't get up, because my bed's on fire.

I mean, it won't stop me, but I don't really give a damn, so I'm going with that excuse.

That was McGonnagal.

Turns out, someone went to go get her, and thus, she entered our dorm wearing a nightgown, saw my bed on fire, the furniture as ashes/the occasional pile of scrap wood, and Ginny huffing and puffing in exhaustion, and just dragged the two of us to her office, groaning about Weasleys.

Of course, not before glaring towards me.

I just shrugged, then gestured to the fire.

Anyway, she dragged the two of us over to her office more or less by the ears,

Oh, and she used a wind spell to extinguish my bed, of course.

and spent a couple of minutes yelling

Maybe closer to forcefully explaining

Yeah.

Forcefully explaining to Ginny that, while cancelling Quidditch was a travesty

(Turns out McGonnagal is just as much of a fanatic as Ginny, if the trophies on the case behind her desk are any indication)

There's really nothing anyone can do about it.

Unfortunately, the clock hit midnight, McGonnagal's forehead hit her hands, and that we were both in detention for the next three weeks, Ginny for causing a panic, and me for not doing much of anything, thereby causing the situation to become as bad as it did.

Can you say bullshit?

Anyway, we managed to get back to our dorm by 12:30, and while Ginny's still a bit furious, she knows neither of us is lucky enough to avoid further punishment and that she's probably better off sleeping on it.

Hopefully whatever disaster is coming this year will be big enough to distract her.

I wonder if humans normally think things like that.

V2