Professor McGonagall was an interesting woman, and Lena instantly decided that she was going to crack that stern facade when she appeared on the orphanage doorstep.

Judging by the shit-eating grin on Marie's face, Lena's best friend could sense her intentions immediately.

So Marie handed Lena her fingerless black leather gloves — her prized possessions — for luck, and sent her out of their room with a jolly wave.

Lena had managed to tame her wild ebony curls into a semblance of a thick French braid for the occasion, and she had dressed in her best muggle clothes along with the gloves.

Considering she couldn't very well bring out the adult ones from her case, she settled for her worn ripped jeans, hand me down combat boots, and frayed Nirvana t-shirt that an old matron had gotten from her niece.

All in all, Lena looked like either a punk rocker or an undeniable orphan, and she was alright with either of those things.

And it had the added bonus of making the Professor do a double take.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Lena said sweetly as she offered a leather clad hand. "Matron Hannah told me you were coming today, it's truly a pleasure to meet you."

The woman immediately collected herself, and she gripped Lena's hand in a gentle shake.

Lena mentally commended the woman for not letting her gaze linger on the almost-necklace of her smiling scar.

"It's nice to meet you too, Lena," she said as they began to stroll towards the street. "My name is Minerva McGonagall, and I'll be your transfigurations professor at Hogwarts."

"Ah, then why do you escort muggleborns and orphans to get their school supplies? Surely you have more pressing matters to attend to." When Lena received a startled look at the terminology, she explained: "Dumbledore gave me a book called 'Hogwarts, a History,' and it explained a great deal of wizarding things."

Not that she hadn't already pieced together a lot of the broader concepts the book mentioned in her nightly wanderings.

Apparently in the wizarding world, blood status of all things was a contested issue, and the Black name was known for being a massive proponent of 'pure blood supremacy.'

Ugh.

"You've already read it? It's only been a week, Miss Black." McGonagall chuckled as they stopped in the front yard of the orphanage.

Due to the summer heat, the meager grass was brittle and yellow, and the various children's toys that were scattered around were roasting under the midday sun.

"Well, I'm a bit of a speed reader, Professor," Lena admitted with a wry smile. "It's my largest point of pride, you see — Marie can attest to it."

"Well, do let me know if you have any questions then, Miss Black, but do so after we've reached our destination." The Professor held out her arm for Lena who had been grinning evilly at the offer of knowledge. "We'll be aparrating to the Leaky Cauldron, so hold tightly to my arm and don't let go."

Lena did as she was told and found herself feeling like she was being squeezed through a tube, and in less than a second she was blinking at the bustle of downtown London under the sign of a seedy looking bar.

The evil grin returned, and McGonagall had a horrible sense of dejavú at the sight of the sharp little thing.

"Why are the Houses so mean to each other, Professor? At other wizarding schools the whole 'sorting' nonsense is much more lax and rivalries aren't nearly as high. And other schools seem to be much more efficient in regards to curriculum — schools in Brazil teach wandless magic to all students by age thirteen and other schools teach all students how to be an animagus by that age too. Speaking of, why are anamagi so taboo in England, it seems—"

"Miss Black!" Professor McGonagall choked, as she hustled her inside the pub and waved at the hunched bartender. "When I said I'd answer your questions, I'd hoped they'd be one at a time!"

"Sorry, Professor," Lena replied sweetly, not feeling particularly sorry at all. "I'm just so interested in the wizarding world, you see."

McGonagall sighed and looked up at the sky in a silent 'why me,' and Lena couldn't help but think the professors had drawn straws to deal with babysitting the orphan.

Heh, suckers.

"It's quite alright, Miss Black, but do try and keep your questions as single lines of thought in the future."

"Of course, Professor," Lena agreed as the woman began consulting her list of supplies.

Lena took the moment to observe the famous, 'Diagon Alley,' as if she had never been there before.

Structures of various sizes and styles lined a beautifully cobbled street, and what the shops lacked in conformity, they more than made up for with sheer personality.

A motley assortment of eye-catching colors and shining signs burst out from every store front, and vivacious plants exploded from window boxes and flower beds with impressive force.

Witches and wizards in a mishmash of muggle clothing and sumptuous robes teemed through the noisy street, and Lena took it all in as she let her hair change to its preferred shade of sapphire blue.

McGonagall startled slightly when she saw it as she looked up from her list, but Lena just gave her a Cheshire grin once more with a shrug as if to say, 'what can you do?'

McGonagall just sighed and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "it's her uncle all over again."

"What was that, Professor?" Lena asked innocently.

"Nothing, Miss Black," she responded tiredly. "Our first stop is Gringotts, come along."

"Is that typical for muggleborns, Professor?" Lena knew the answer was a resounding no, but she wanted to see if McGonagall would tell her the truth.

"Not quite, Miss Black."

A promising start.

"You see, you are in a bit of a unique situation, as you are not actually a muggleborn." McGonagall glanced to check the girl's reaction, but her face was infuriatingly blank.

"Your father had you when he was quite young, and you've no surviving relatives—"

"Except for Sirius Black," Lena said mildly.

McGonagall blanched. "You know?"

"I pieced it together when I read about 'the Ancient and Noble House of Black,'" Lena pitched her voice in a posh accent as she scoffed at the title. "I figured whoever had me had an illicit affair with a muggle or something when I realized, and that was why no one bothered to find me."

She peered up at McGonagall's slightly stricken face, and was giddy about the prospect of telling Marie she had been successful in her quest. "So was I right? Am I a 'stain on the honor of House Black?'"

"I wouldn't ever call you that, Lena." McGonagall finally said after a moment of collecting herself. "It may have been why no one sought you out in the beginning, but your relatives have since passed on or been incarcerated for most of your life." She hesitated.

"Which also means that you are the newest and only Matriarch of House Black."

Lena laughed from the tips of her toes and gave the Professor a megawatt smile.

"And that's why we're going to Gringotts, isn't it?"

McGonagall nodded grimly, and Lena decided that she wouldn't mind being rich in the slightest.

—

Lena thought the goblins' gruff natures were rather delightful, and they found her curiosity in their work rather novel.

"Can you work with any type of metal?"

"Have you ever tried using alloy from meteorites?"

"What about gemstones — can you make magic goblin versions of those?"

The goblin that showed her the Black vaults —

Plural!

— was named Warhawk, and he was more than happy to boast about goblin work.

McGonagall watched their conversation in utter bemusement, and she looked positively floored when Lena handed the goblin a glorious sword and an elegant crown from a display in the last of the vaults.

"If the person that commissioned these died, and goblin customs work like you say, you can have these back if you'd like." Lena said with a grin.

She had literal mountains of gold as it was — in. Multiple. Vaults. — she wouldn't miss a sword or two at the end of the day.

Warhawk gave her a long before carefully accepting the items. "You're not so bad for a witch, little Black," he told her.

"I think you're pretty cool too, Mr. Warhawk, sir," she replied breezily as she snatched a finely made pouch and began shoveling gold into it.

It appeared to have an expansion charm in it, so she managed to get a few armfuls in before she decided to call it enough.

It hadn't even made a dent in the trove.

"That's a mole skin pouch, little Black," Warhawk told her as they made their way back to the cart they had ridden down in. "It'll only open for you, so thieves will have a hard time stealing from you."

"How neat," Lena chimed as she climbed in next to McGonagall.

What followed was a mountain of paperwork declaring Lena as the official 'Lady Black,' and a brief rundown of her estates —

Again, plural.

— and assets that were stored neatly in a file and placed in her mole skin pouch for safe keeping.

And only then, did she and McGonagall start their shopping.

By the time they'd worked their way through the list and finally stood outside Ollivander's wand shop, Lena was exhausted, and her hair had faded to a pastel blue.

"Just one more stop, Miss Black," McGonagall said without any signs of exhaustion.

Lena's respect for her crept upwards.

"Good afternoon," called a quiet voice as they stepped through the door.

"Hello Mr. Ollivander," McGonagall called as Lena let her eyes take in the cluttered shop. "Sorry to come in so close to closing, the bank took longer than expected this morning."

"Not to worry, not to worry," the old man rasped. He had papery skin and ghostly pale eyes, but his smile was warm and open. "Another for their first wand then?" He asked Lena kindly.

She nodded as he seemed to stare through her soul. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. My name is Lena Black."

His eyes lit up in amusement. "Not like any Black I've seen in a while, I'd say."

Lena grinned at the blunt honesty and followed him when he gestured to the back. "I remember your father had the same intelligence in his eyes when I met him, though."

"You knew my father?" Lena asked in interest.

She didn't even know that.

All the blood test had proven at the bank was that she was a Black and a half blood somehow.

"Regulus was a curious young man," Ollivander admitted. "Much too smart and much too easily influenced, but he had a wand of black walnut to attest to his brain."

He handed her a stubby wand as she processed that information, and it practically shrieked in her hand as a lamp shattered.

"No, no, far too short, and definitely not like your father for the bend."

She tried a second, third, and fourth wand all to the same effect.

"Much too swishy."

"Oh, definitely not."

"My word, never veela hair."

By the tenth wand, shelves had been knocked over, Ollivander had sprouted horns, and general chaos had overcome the shop.

But Ollivander seemed to be having the time of his life.

"Ah! I think this should do it," he murmured happily as he snatched an eleventh box from the floor. "Tricky, tricky, this one, I was certain the walnut would have done it."

Lena watched as he flipped back the lid and pulled out a beautiful wand of wood polished so dark it was nearly black. The handle was carved with scrolling vines and elegantly smooth grooves for a grip, and Ollivander smiled as he held it out to her.

"Chestnut, thirteen inches with a dragon heartstring." He announced proudly. "One of my more finicky works, but maybe…"

Lena nearly sighed as she grasped the hilt, and she swore the wand giggled in her hand. A surge of soothing coolness raced up her arm and rolled off the wand like an ocean fog, and the room hastily went about righting itself.

"Ha!" Ollivander cheered, "it looks like we have a beast tamer, Minerva."

"As it would seem," the professor chuckled.

"I'll take your word for it," Lena said wryly as she thought back to the occupants of her briefcase.

I could have told you that, she thought in amusement.

—

"You didn't know?" Tom demanded as they sat beneath the wisteria tree playing wizard chess.

The stars were bright overhead, and the night mist was thick in the air as fireflies drifted past while balls of sapphire ghost light floated around them.

"That I was filthy rich, or that my family was a bunch of bigots?" Lena asked baldly.

"Either," Tom scoffed, leveling her with a look halfway to amusement.

"Well I didn't really know either one of those things until I read that stupid book." Lena muttered in annoyance. "And when I learned the Blacks were a wizarding family, I figured that I was just an illegitimate child that no one wanted, or something — I didn't think they were all dead and gone."

Tom hummed thoughtfully as he absolutely destroyed her rook, and Lena scowled at him half heartedly.

"Are you going to ally with the other noble houses once more?" He inquired after a spell of silence. They were never rushed in their conversations, and that was one of the things Lena liked most about their friendship.

Some days would be nothing but companionable silence as one was lost to a haze of memories, other times it would be ceaseless banter and shared experiences of a brutal orphanage.

Sometimes it was just stargazing and discussions of magical concepts and ideas for inventions or spells.

Now, Lena studied the slight scowl flickering across the sloping angles of Tom's face, and couldn't quite discern where it was coming from.

Tom had the piercing blue eyes, black silky hair, and porcelain skin of a modern player, but the mind of a grouchy old man.

The contradiction always made Lena smile.

"That sounds like a lot of political nonsense that I don't have the energy for." She finally replied as she sent a knight to destroy his queen. "Besides, from what I've gathered on my business trips, 'alliance' means marriage, means absolutely no way in hell."

"Ah yes, your alleged business trips," Tom huffed as he met her droll eyes. "What was it this time? A unicorn in the hands of a madman? A thestral being held captive by a criminal?"

"I was selling some occamy shells," she said smiling, "a new clutch just hatched and an apothecary in Lithuania was willing to pay double."

"I suppose you won't need to keep making deals like that now," Tom mused as he cornered her king.

Lena knew it was checkmate in seven moves, but she battled on anyway. "Oh no, I went back to Gringotts last week and opened a private vault for my creatures."

Lena hadn't meant for her night time wanderings to become anything other than a fun pastime, but over the years she'd somehow become the supplier of a handful of apothecaries and wizard shops that were in desperate need of a humane source of magical creature products.

Newt Scamander had left a large vacuum in the magi-zoology field when he retired, and since then there had been trafficking rings and poachers cropping up like weeds.

Naturally, Lena had begun stumbling across them more and more as she travelled. Originally, she used her now faded memories to sabotage and destroy as many as she could.

She offered the creatures she rescued sanctuary in her little briefcase, and helped the ones that didn't want to stay get healed up and sent home.

It just happened that a lot began to stay with her, and it just happened that she began to sell their sheds and other byproducts when they started cluttering up her labs.

"Everything I make with their help, and some cushioning from my father's old vault, is going straight back into giving them the best care possible." She declared, flopping onto her back and staring at the stars when she finally lost.

"I still don't know how you find time to care for them and research like you do," Tom grumbled as he primly settled beside her. The smug cast to his features was the only sign that he was pleased to have won the game.

"Well they honestly pay for themselves at this point, and researching usually overlaps pretty heavily with caring for them, so…" Lena shrugged. "Besides, I'm a fast learner, and I have an absolute beast of a library when I'm really stuck on something," she gave a fond look to the wisteria tree atop the distant sea caves, "so it's really just about staying consistent."

"Don't forget the sleep deprivation," Tom drawled.

"I'll sleep when I'm dead."

"I highly doubt that, Lena."

"Oh hush," she huffed. "In a few weeks I'll be at Hogwarts, and I can officially learn all the foundations for magic you keep harping about."

"Yes, and I'm sure you'll be so stimulated with the first year curriculum," Tom smirked in almost cruel amusement.

"Like you were?" She demanded incredulously.

"And if I was bored enough with it after never knowing about magic, imagine how much fun you'll have," Tom snickered smugly.

"Tom, was that a compliment?" Lena crooned.

He just rolled his eyes and gave her an evil little grin. "No, it was sympathy for the professors that have to deal with you, and sadistic glee at imagining your face when they ask you to levitate a feather."

"Oh please, I'm sure that's just first day stuff," Lena dismissed as Tom's unsettling grin bloomed once more.

"We'll see," he chuckled ominously before he dragged her up for a spar.

Oh, how she loved summer nights.

—

To be fair, no one had told Lena that muggles couldn't know about magic before she had enlisted Marie's help with taking care of her gentler creatures.

It was implied, but no one had explicitly said it.

So Lena felt no regret as she said goodbye to her best friend on September first with a giant grin and a: "I'll see you in the morning."

Because there may have been a key to her briefcase dimension on the necklace around Marie's neck.

Lena had come up with the idea to enchant door knobs that could attach to any surface and open to the place it was coordinated for.

And she may have given Marie a key to the one affixed to the wall in the trick bottom of their wardrobe.

In Lena's defense, the knob was protected by the blood rune wards she had found in one of the wisteria trees' many grimoires — though trying to remember where she got it made her mind throb painfully — and it was only able to reveal itself with Marie's willing fingerprint along with the key.

So really it was completely safe.

"I'll see you then, Lena," Marie grinned. "And at least try to make friends on the train, you bloody hermit."

Lena screwed up her face in disgust, but nodded as she slipped out the door with a wave.

She had a train to catch, after all.

A/N: If you haven't guessed, this is slightly crack-ish, so go nuts lovely people :D