Ella wakes up to a paw gently batting her face. This is by no means a strange occurrence, but she opens her eyes anyway, blinking sleep so her vision isn't so blurry.
Jinxie stares at her, nose twitching, paw still resting on her cheek. Green eyes stare into her own blue ones, several questions being asked at once: Are you okay? Do you want to get up yet? Who are these people in the room with us? When are you going to feed me?
Ella groans, running her hand over Jinxie's black fur once before sitting up. "Alright, alright, I'll get you some food. And you don't need to worry about me, okay?"
Jinxie meows once, slowly but firmly. Perhaps it's ridiculous of her to claim to understand her cat so thoroughly, but Jinxie truly is her best friend and has been for years. How could she not understand her dearest friend?
Slipping out from under the covers, Ella keeps the curtain around her bed drawn as she changes into her uniform, pausing only when picking up her Gryffindor tie. The colours are more pronounced in the morning daylight streaming in through the window, a bright spot amongst the black, white, and grey of the rest of her clothes. She supposes that's the point. It's bold and undeniable proof that she's a Gryffindor.
Colin would be proud.
He'd always been so sure she was a witch as well, even when she was young. It's why he'd bought Jinxie for her the year Dennis went off to Hogwarts, leaving her all alone at home with her parents, unable to follow her brothers into the world of magic for the time being.
"He'll be your magical companion!" Colin had said when placing the tiny black kitten in her hands. "We might not be here, but she will be! She'll look after you until you get your Hogwarts letter and can come with us!"
She'd been so excited at the time. Seven years old and ready to dive headfirst into a world she didn't even know if she belonged in.
When she snaps out of her thoughts, refusing to venture down memory lane any further, she's creasing the tie in her clenched fist. She quickly smooths it out and puts it on without any further fuss.
The dorm is still asleep when she finally opens the curtains, and she tip-toes around to ensure Yeoreum doesn't wake up as she gets herself ready. She remains dead to the world, but she only lets herself breathe when the door is closed and she's down the hall.
There are a few people milling about the common room, mostly older students, and when Ella looks more closely, she thinks she sees bags beneath most of their eyes. Her mind traitorously wonders whether any of them are from her brother's year, survivors when he was not, but quickly squashes the thought down and rushes out of the room before she can dwell on it.
Once outside the common room, she's faced with a new problem: navigating herself through the castle.
They took many, many flights of stairs on their way up, and so the way to go should be down. She says as much to Jinxie as she starts down the first staircase. Jinxie follows behind dutifully, though whether that's because Ella is her companion or because she wants food is a mystery.
Going down the stairs is easier than going up, but both trips are going to give her plenty of exercise if she's expected to do them every day. She's lucky she's young; she can only imagine what the older professors have to go through while traversing the school. Then again, they're probably used to it by now.
The last set of stairs drop her off at what appears to be a main hall, if a castle this big even has one of those. She turns around to gather her bearings and stops in her tracks.
There in front of her is a wall covered in golden plaques, names all listed side by side. The memorial wall. Something stirs in her gut, and though she knows it will only upset her, she approaches it anyway, her eyes already searching for a familiar name.
She does find it, of course. Up high, too tall for her to reach, in engraved letters: 'Colin Creevey, May 19th 1981 — May 2nd 1998'. Next to the name is a small hole, and looking at the other plaques, she realizes it's for flowers. A gift for the deceased.
She sighs. "You don't happen to have a flower, do you, Jinxie?"
Jinxie meows, blinking at her.
"Yeah, I didn't think so."
"You need a flower?"
The voice catches her off-guard, and she jumps, turning around. Jinxie sits in front of her with her back straight, staring at the stranger. Ella doubts he's a threat. He seems friendly enough, at least. She doubts he's a student as he's wearing normal clothing, but he appears too young to be a professor, and she assumes that this is one of the returning alumni who had their studies interrupted. He holds a box of plants close to his chest.
Hesitantly, she nods.
He digs through his box, then picks something she can't see until he holds it out to her. It's a white flower, unassuming with a black stem, though she's cautious when she takes it. Just holding it is enough for her to sense that it isn't a regular flower.
"It's the flower from a Moly plant. They counteract enchantments if you eat them, but you'll learn all about that in Herbology," he says.
She nods again and turns back to the memorial wall, only to remember she can't reach. "Um…"
"Do you want me to get it for you?" the boy asks, and Ella hesitates once again. Being vulnerable around her family is one thing (and she barely does that lately), but a stranger? That's difficult.
In the end, though, she forces herself to be strong. "Yes, please. Up there."
She doesn't say Colin's name. She hasn't said his name out loud in several months, and she doesn't know if she can, especially to a stranger. Fortunately, he seems to understand who she means, and rests the flower next to the correct name.
"Here?" he asks.
"There," she says.
He gently pushes the flower's stem into the hole, the petals on full display beside her brother's name. Both of them step back. She's satisfied with their work.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." The boy offers her a smile. "I'm Neville. Are you…" The smile falters. "Are you Colin's sister?"
She should have expected this question, but any openness she displayed before is now gone. Her defenses are on high alert and Jinxie is back to sitting in front of her for protection.
"Yes," she says in a low voice. "Ella."
Neville must sense her discomfort, as he quickly changes the subject. "It's nice to meet you. I'll be in and out, so I'll probably see you a few times. Are you heading to breakfast?"
"Yeah," she says, then looks around. "Though I'm not quite sure where breakfast is…"
Neville's laugh isn't mean. It's rather good-natured, in fact, and he says, "I know that feeling. C'mon, I'll show you the fastest way to the dining hall."
He leads her through the halls, and she makes sure to memorize every corridor, every turn they take, every portrait they pass. Well, perhaps not every portrait. There are far too many of them to count, though they begin to dwindle as they approach the familiar double doors, now open wide in preparation for breakfast.
"Here you are," Neville says.
The great hall is far bigger with only several people sitting in it, the early risers preparing for a new school year. Most of the professors have already arrived, likely to set an example, and Neville cheerfully waves to McGonagall when she spots them by the doors.
"Thanks," Ella says.
"No problem," says Neville, hoisting his box of flora up in his arms. "I better get these to the greenhouse, so I'll see you later."
Before she can ask whether he'll be eating breakfast, too, he's walking down the hall, towards the doors that lead outside. She watches him leave for a moment before entering the great hall. Barely anyone looks at her when she does, not like last night when the sorting was about to happen. Just how she likes it.
She takes a look at her class schedule while biting into some scones. Her first class is History of Magic, and she already knows what to expect when she sees Professor Binns listed as her teacher. It's Herbology and Charms next with a break between the two, then Transfiguration. Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts are after lunch. Today is going to be exhausting.
Someone slides into the seat beside her and she bristles, but it's only Dennis. He has his own class schedule with him and he's brought Evangeline along, too. Ella nods her way when she smiles.
"What do you have first?" Dennis asks.
"History of Magic," she says, making a face.
"Aw, don't be like that, it's a good class." When she looks at him sceptically, he grins. "To fall asleep to, anyway."
Evangeline sighs. "As a prefect, I feel as though I have the responsibility to argue against that."
"But you can't," says Dennis.
"But I can't." Evangeline looks at Ella. "At least you don't have O.W.L.s this year. I am not looking forward to that."
Dennis and Evangeline start a discussion about O.W.L.s that Ella tunes out of, none of it making any sense to her. She quietly eats her food and keeps her head down as more people start to file into the hall. She's hoping to be small and inconspicuous enough to avoid anyone talking to her.
"Morning, Ella!"
So much for that.
Yeoreum is as chipper as she was last night, smile bright as she takes the seat next to Ella and immediately grabs a muffin. Ella considers ignoring her, but she's only trying to blend in, not start a bad reputation for herself, so she says, "Morning."
"I can't believe we have History of Magic first thing. Do they want us to be put off?"
Yeoreum launches into a recount of everything her father has apparently told her about Professor Binns, and while Ella can barely keep up, she's somewhat grateful that she doesn't have to contribute anything to the conversation other than a hum here or a nod there. At least Yeoreum is more engaging than Professor Binns appears to be.
The bell rings for their first class and Ella is immediately up, not wanting to linger in a social situation if she can help it. Yeoreum continues to speak to her even as they leave the hall behind. Either Yeoreum knows where to go or she's acting as if she does, gait confident as they make their way through the halls.
"...And my younger brother was saying — oh, there's the classroom! C'mon!"
Yeoreum doesn't have to point, the two lines outside the fourth floor classroom clear. Ella follows at her own pace behind her, taking note of the other students in the line, and she recognises most from the sorting. Anyone she can't see brings up the rear of the line not long after.
She doesn't know what Professor Binns looks like, but when she sees an old ghost floating towards them, she can only assume it's him. She's proven right when he floats between the two lines, says, "Come on in, children," and proceeds to phase through the doors without a care in the world. He leaves the students outside and it takes Marius Gold opening the doors himself for them to be granted access to the classroom.
The desks are arranged in threes and Ella and Yeoreum sit somewhere in the middle. Ella knows someone will have to sit on her other side eventually, but she isn't expecting the heavy slam of the textbook on the desk and a disgruntled Damien Worth plopping himself down beside her with a dirty look cast at his own twin brother. Lucien, who had clearly been approaching Damien, steps back with a hurt expression and instead sits beside one of his fellow Slytherins.
"Wow," Yeoreum mutters under her breath. Ella can share the sentiment.
"Get your quills ready," Binns says, and yes, Ella can already feel her eyelids fluttering. "We'll be learning about the founding of Britain's Ministry of Magic."
And so class begins. At least two students are out cold and snoring by the end of the lecture, and Ella is tempted to follow suit despite the ten hour sleep she had last night. She knows more about Ulick Gamp than she could ever want. At least Binns doesn't give them any homework.
Herbology is more interesting, but the bar is low, and they don't do anything with the actual plants. Instead, they practice spells that will keep them safe from plants. Ella can only imagine what a Venomous Tentacula and Devil's Snare are. Why had she ever thought the Wizarding World was safe?
Halfway through the class, Neville walks in with another box of Herbology supplies, delivering them safe and sound to Professor Sprout. When he catches sight of Ella, he waves. She returns it with a small wave of her own as several heads turn to look at her.
"You know Neville Longbottom?" Damien says, watching in awe as Neville leave the greenhouse.
"Not really," Ella says. "I just bumped into him this morning."
"Still," says Damien, "that's the guy who killed You-Know-Who's snake, his closest companion."
Yeoreum leans in conspiratorially. "I heard that he was able to summon the Sword of Gryffindor. Only true Gryffindors are able to do that."
"Miss Kim, is there something you would like to say about the severing charm?"
"No, Professor."
After their break, during which Ella sat and listened to Yeoreum and Damien argue over which national Quidditch team is superior with Marius joining in immediately after finding them, is Charms. Feathers are lined up across the desks and Ella picks hers up, twirling it around as she scrutinizes it.
It turns out they're learning the levitation charm and the feathers are what they're practicing on. Flitwick is patient with them, speaking to them both as a class and one-on-one once they start practicing. The charm itself sounds easy to master, but it takes quite a few tries for her to actually achieve it, and she feels a sense of achievement once she does.
"Well done, Miss Creevey!" Flitwick says after she's one of the first to hold her feather in the air, and for an extended amount of time at that.
It's only as she's leaving the Charms classroom that she reminds herself to settle down, to not get too excited. To let herself drown in magic would be a death sentence. That is the conclusion she came to four months ago and she will stick to it.
She doesn't know what to expect with Transfiguration. From what she's been told, McGonagall was the professor for years, but Dennis mentioned during the summer that Dumbledore hadn't taught classes when he was headmaster and that McGonagall was likely to do the same. That left the Transfiguration professor spot ripe for the taking.
The woman standing at the front of the classroom is definitely not McGonagall. Instead, a young woman with curly blonde hair stands with her back to the chalkboard, which already has several lines of symbols written on it. She patiently waits for them all to take their seats before speaking.
"Good afternoon, class," she says. "I'm Professor Clearwater, the new Transfiguration teacher. Just as you're new, I'm new, so let's be kind to each other, shall we?"
Despite being new, Clearwater knows what she's talking about, teaching them the Transfiguration Alphabet with no pauses or reservations. By the end of the lesson, the symbols are starting to blend together, but Ella thinks she has the first eight memorized. Baby steps.
By lunchtime, she's starving.
It's on their way to the great hall that she sees something that concerns her, yet doesn't surprise her. Three Gryffindors have two Slytherins caged in at the side of the hallway, sparks she can't identify leaving their wands, the Slytherins pressed against the wall with their wands nowhere to be found. Their voices grow louder as she and Yeoreum walk closer.
"Who let Death Eater scum back into Hogwarts?" says one of the Gryffindors, twirling their wand between spells.
The Slytherins don't get a chance to respond, one of the other Gryffindors using a spell on them that renders them speechless. Literally. They open their mouths, but nothing comes out. The Gryffindors laugh.
"How horrible," Yeoreum says as a Gryffindor prefect rushes in to stop the attack. "How can those two be Death Eaters, they only look a few years older than we are."
Ella can't say she knows much about Death Eaters, nor does she care to, but the two Slytherin students (who can now talk again), seem to be more akin to victims than perpetrators. Kids are cruel.
Lunch is spent eating well-prepared sandwiches and listening to Yeoreum discuss a place called Zonko's with Torian and Marius. She doesn't know what a Nose-Biting Teacup is, but if it lives up to its name, she doesn't want to know. When asked her opinion, she only shrugs.
After they've been fed, it's time for Potions. Ella quickly decides she doesn't like Potions.
It isn't the subject itself that she doesn't like. She finds it similar to muggle chemistry, just with magical ingredients and a few waves of her wand. No, it's the professor that bothers her.
Professor Slughorn is competent at what he does, but his treatment of students leaves more to be desired. Ella isn't affected, treated as a regular student, just as she should be. Just as they all should be. But she sees the look Slughorn gives Aurelia Carrow as he passes by her desk and how he will only speak to Willow Astarac and not their Potions partner, Ilaria Rosier. Every time Theresa Burke raises her hand to answer a question, which is often, she is ignored, even if she's the only one willing to answer.
The boy sitting next to Theresa, however, doesn't get that treatment. Instead, he brightens when he sees him and says, "Mr Selwyn! Your sister told me to expect you. How is your mother doing?"
Vesper Selwyn sits straighter. "She's good, sir. She's focusing on volunteer work at the moment."
"Is that so? You were helping her over the summer, I expect."
"Of course. Tess and I were helping fix up some war-torn places over the holidays with my little sisters."
Slughorn looks at him, confused. "Tess?"
"Yeah? Theresa." Vesper gestures to Theresa, who sits emotionless. "She's my cousin."
Slughorn treats Theresa better after that.
Vesper isn't the only one to be given special treatment, either. Marius is minding his own business, standing over his cauldron with Damien when Slughorn approaches. He doesn't even notice him until he speaks up.
"Mr Gold, my boy, how is your father doing?" he says, and Marius looks up, bewildered. "I remember teaching him when he was a boy. Charming young man. Still commentating Quidditch matches all over the world?"
"Uh, yeah, he's in Bulgaria right now," Marius says, bemusement in his voice. Ella has to stop herself from snorting.
They survive Potions without blowing anything up and are soon on their way to Defence Against the Dark Arts. The subject name alone is enough to make Ella antsy, knowing that dark magic is ultimately what killed her brother, and while she doesn't know what spell caused his death, she fears she may find out. There are some things in this world she wishes to remain ignorant about.
Her fears take a backseat when she steps into the classroom and sees Harry Potter behind the teacher's desk.
McGonagall is there too, so Ella assumes their DADA professor isn't Harry Potter. Probably. But he is here, and that's enough to get the class riled up. Yeoreum grips her arm as they sit down.
"That's Harry Potter," she shout-whispers, as though Ella doesn't know that already.
"It's rude to stare," Torian says from the seat in front of him, though Damien, his seatmate, hasn't gotten the message. He's staring with his mouth wide open.
McGonagall clears her throat and the class settles down, though there are a few stray whispers here and there. She waits for them to stop completely, with a few harsh glares in their direction, before speaking.
"Before you all get excited, please remember that Mr Potter is not something shiny to gawk at," she says. "Are we clear on that?"
A chorus of 'Yes, Professor' echoes throughout the room.
"Good. Now, the permanent position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor has yet to be filled, and so I will be handling the subject until a suitable candidate can be found," she says. "As I also have headmistress duties to attend to, I have asked Mr Potter to assist me with the classes of the lower years. This is going towards his N.E.W.T.s, so be sure to behave yourself."
With one last nod at Potter, she strides down the centre of the room and out the door, leaving them with the Boy Who Lived.
Potter hesitates when all eyes turn back to him, and Ella can't say she blames him. It's also oddly comforting. After hearing recounts of Harry Potter's gallant adventures, both from her brothers and various other sources around the Wizarding World, it's nice to see he's a normal human. Aside from being a war hero who defeated the most evil wizard in Britain. He defeated the most evil wizard in Britain and he gets unnerved when a bunch of first years are looking at him.
He recovers soon enough. "Alright, so the class structure for the semester will go like this: we'll cover something in the textbook, whether it be a magical creature that could be considered a threat or a spell that could hurt you, and the lesson after, we'll work on the spells used to combat said threat. Trust me, I know how it feels to just do theory work for weeks on end."
They learn about imps first, and Ella finds Harry to be a fairly good teacher, not that she knows much about teaching. At this point, she's just glad he isn't giving a dull lecture or picking favourites from the students.
One thing is for sure, though: Dennis is going to go bonkers when he finds out.
And go bonkers he does. Once classes are done and Potter dismisses them, Ella heads back to Gryffindor Tower, only to be pulled aside the moment she's stepped through the portal hole. Dennis has an excited expression on his face reserved only for when speaking about exciting Wizarding World things. At the top of that list is Harry Potter.
"Is it true that Harry Potter is teaching your class?"
"Hello to you, too, Dennis, how was your day?"
Dennis huffs. "My day was good, now answer the question."
Ella rolls her eyes. "Yes, he is. Something about helping us contributing to his N.E.W.T. levels."
"Lucky," he says, a slight whine to his voice, and Ella pushes his shoulder.
"Just go up and say hi to him if you want to see him that badly."
"I would, but…" Dennis trails off, finally dropping his hand from Ella's arm where it's been since he grabbed her. "I don't know, I don't want to bother him. He's probably going through a lot right now. Aftermath of the war and all that."
"We all are," Ella points out. "I don't think greeting him in the halls is going to be a problem."
Dennis sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I guess… Oh!"
"What is it?"
"I almost forgot." He rummages through his bookbag, producing a few rolls of parchment. "Here. For your letter writing needs."
She takes the parchment. "Right. I forgot that writing letters is a thing. I suppose I better do that…"
Though really, writing back home is one of the last things she wants to do right now.
Dennis gives her an apologetic look, likely knowing what she's thinking. He probably feels the same. Home hasn't been the best place for either of them in the past few months. Still, they're her parents, and they deserve to know at least the bare minimum of what she's been up to.
"I'll go get it over with, then," she says, waving briefly at Dennis with her free hand before climbing the stairs to the dormitories.
The dorms are empty at this time of day, most of the students still lounging in the common room below, and so she has the place to herself. It's how she prefers it.
Quill in hand, she begins to write.
Dear mum and dad,
How are you? I've been doing well and so has Jinxie. I've been sorted into Gryffindor and just completed my first day of classes.
She pauses, ink blotting where the tip of her quill meets the parchment as she thinks of something more to say. Perhaps if this was a year ago, she would have described her classes, the food, the general atmosphere of Hogwarts. That isn't an option now.
That leaves her with nothing else to say, however, and so she writes the only thing she can think of.
Love, Ella (and Jinxie)
She drops her quill back into the inkpot, leaning back and spreading herself across her chair. She closes her eyes. Why can't this year be over already?
thank you so much for reading!
