A/N: This originally was supposed to be the first chapter, but I felt that there had to be something else there.. Something else waiting for Libby on the other end.
Liberty slouched as she dragged herself up the stairs. Devon Bradshaw, her cousin Orion's girlfriend, had just brought her the second official letter of expulsion she had received from Beauxbatons in three years. Devon had been nice about it, reminding her that surely the Academy would take her back, but Liberty knew she was just being nice because she had to. Orion was very protective of her, and Taura, no doubt, would be up to remind her that she was hardly Black family material. Orion had never been in trouble in his life if he wasn't so into Quidditch.. He even followed all the laws! And Taura (Liberty groaned to think of the saucy brunette who thought she was God's gift to mankind) was such a goody-goody, and would be useful for about squat. Liberty was more Black family material than the both of them put together. She was the only one who still played pranks, got good grades though she didn't study, could orate insult speeches better than Lily Evans could, she could commentate on the best Quidditch games (even the rare moves and fouls the Ministries never published, she knew their every detail) and honestly, her dad wouldn't be mad, would he?
Taura came in, slamming the door behind her. "Well, well, well.. If it isn't the black sheep of the Black family. When will you ever grow up, Libby? It's time you started looking for a hus.."
Before Taura could say the forbidden word, she was flat on her back, with a bit of black shoe polish tartly smeared into her face.
"You think because you are possibly the most perfect thing anyone has ever heard of, that you are somehow worthy enough to order me around? You are nothing but an adopted piece of crap that we picked out from the bottom of the orphan pile. So before you judge me for not being up to the family standards, remind yourself that your mother was some teenage junkie from Tulsa." Liberty snapped.
Taura opened her mouth to retaliate about Liberty's own mother, but shoe polish filled her mouth. "You are not going to get away with this!"
"Taura, Taura, Taura.. You are so naive! I am exactly what the family wants. I meet our family's standards. You meet your own. Perfection is not an art- It is a death wish. No one will believe that I smeared shoe polish on your face if it took every single truth potion there was. And before you get on the touchy subject of my mother, do be reminded that I have won a life-supply of shoe polish, in every shade, every brand, every formula. Tell me how it tastes when you're throwing up your lunch again." Liberty said softly, pushing Taura out of her room and slamming the door. "And don't you dare tell my dad what happened! And, of all people, you have no right to call me Libby."
It was already too late, for a flamingo, a very bright (obviously Charmed) flamingo, was struggling to fit through her window. Liberty recognized the stationary- The ones that had sketches of a stag, a wolf, a dog and a crossed-out-with-lipstick (her dad was dating again, apparently) mouse. Liberty looked about the room, soaking in it's fabric-covered walls, the silver and gold fixtures and the perfection of it all- The perfection Liberty lacked and the perfection that had lost the life of so many people.
Dear Liberty-
Another school? Or, should I say, you got kicked out
of Beauxbatons again? Let's see.. First we sent you to
Durmstrang, then it was Beauxbatons, then the American
school, then Beauxbatons forgave you, and now you are
nearing your fifth year and you have nowhere to go? I
am sure that I can convince Albus to let you in this
late. I know for a fact that there are only three
girls in the Gryffindor fifth year.. I know you're
going to be a Gryffindor- They let you try on the
school hat long ago. Obey Minerva and don't pester
Severus so much. And whatever you do- Do not hurt the
Slytherins- This is the last time of ever to need a
lawsuit! Be a good girl and pack quickly- You have
your books and Remus will take you on the school
friend- And don't approach Harry about me.. He thinks
he's the only person I am supposed to look after. And-
last and not least- Don't mess with the boys' heads
over there at Hogwarts- They're not exactly used to
your type.
Dad
Libby looked at the letter in front of her. Her dad was sending her to Hogwarts?! Two years of Magical
Charm School, one year perfect for Quidditch and dueling and one liberal year and she was being sent to
Hogwarts? It was practically her second home, but.. Hogwarts? Fine. She would be able to do her thesis on the
Ravenclaw/Potter/Gryffindor thing.. It would be easier to get the information firsthand. History of Magic,
Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration were her best subjects.
Liberty wasn't an American, but before she was old enough to be in magic schools, she had lived there
during the school year. All her summers were spent at Hogwarts. She had apparently picked up an American
accent. Severus Snape, especially most recently, was like a second-uncle, as was Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore.
Minerva McGonagall was the motherly figure and her childhood friends were house elves. Liberty was a trouble-maker in her own right, much like her father, and there were a few things she picked up from all the different schools.
Viktor Krum had taught her how to play Quidditch when he was in fourth year. Besides that, all Libby picked up from Durmstrang was the art of dueling. In Beauxbatons, she had learned for two years how to deceive and charm people, as well as magic. They were strict and got her into a secretive studying habit.
Her favorite new skill was magical photography. She learned it in America, when she had been failing Arithmancy, and that summer she hadn't gone to Hogwarts to make up for it. She took some amazing pictures.
Liberty had always been a loner. Her cousin Taura was at Beauxbatons, and that was helpful to test some different shades of shoe polish, (they spent their Christmas and Easter holidays in Paris). Her sporty cousin Orion lived in America, where he had let her take pictures in Manhattan, and now (finally) she would be returning home. The rest of her family lived somewhere in the middle of nowhere, to be precise, a farm in Northern California.
Her hair and eyes were symbols of her family- Dark and sleek hair falling to her waist, and her eyes deep-set and deep blue. Her skin glowed white- She was like a Veela with black hair. In fact, her mother had been a Veela. Her father had loved France ever since his best friend Lily's first engagement party in Paris. France was prominent for its immigrant Veelas.
She was tall, and knew she would be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team- (being trained by Viktor Krum was a VERY good ticket in), and if not, she would certainly replace that Lee fellow who was commentating. Her father had been the greatest
Quidditch commentator of all time.
Her trunk for Hogwarts was rather unattractive- Better than those of Durmstrang, less colorful than those of the American school (it was called the American Academy) and less elegant than those of Beauxbatons. Black was such a plain color.
Her mother's small fortune paid for all of her side things- clothes, food, board. But her father paid for all of her school needs.. It was a rather boring life. He had a fortune of his own, but he hated to use it. He didn't believe in raising his daughter by society like his best friend Lily and his other best friend James had been (Remus had told all the disgusting details), but he allowed her to go to the benefits that she begged to go to- Alone.
Liberty hid her Marauder Force 3000 at the bottom of the trunk- Products similar to Muggle electronics, but
perfect for monitoring pranks in magical areas. Walkie-talkies, headsets and speakers, monitors, tiny cameras, ear pieces.. The whole nine yards. She was sure that those Weasleys couldn't even pass her up.
This Harry Potter person may have been famous, but he was the last little bug in her way for a good relationship with her father. As far as Liberty was concerned, he was a dead man walking.
Reggie Ravenclaw sat thinking, which was not uncommon. Here she was, going back to Hogwarts after a year at the orphanage. She was an orphan like Harry Potter, but the fact that her relatives were dead didn't exactly pull through to her fellow fifth-years, as Harry's orphanhood was highly more publicized.
Reggie was really Regina, but the little children (who were her only joys at the orphanage) always
called her Reggie. That formed into Reggie as she departed to Hogwarts, and now she had her own room at
the orphanage because the matron didn't want anyone intruding in on her when she was studying. She had her
own desk, day bed, lamp, phone and nightstand, an owl cage, a closet, a rug, a bookshelf- Besides that and
her Hogwarts trunk, her room was pretty bare.
She shook her head violently, shaking out her frizzy black hair that fell to her shoulders. She could be pretty, in the words of Roger Davies, "I bet that one cleans up nice." But she didn't really bother. Her eyes were blue-gray, they would have been plain, except, according to Dumbledore, that one of her ancestors always had a twinkle in his eye. Her complexion wasn't ruddy, she had a golden-light-brown sort of skin that glowed in the morning. The trouble wasn't she never tried, she just didn't have the resources. Yeah, sure, she was a Galleonare, but what would that mean to a hair stylist in Los Angeles? Plus, her clothes, though not ugly, were plain and starched stiff. Stuff like dull plaids and faded pastels. Sweater sets, plain pants and pleated skirts. Not to mention the ankle socks and black-and-white oxfords.
Dumbledore had insisted the family fortune (she later discovered that one of her millions of
great-grandmothers was a founder of Hogwarts) would pay for everything, and she ended up in the Ravenclaw
house. Her worst subject would have to be Transfiguration. Reggie could never know why studying
didn't help, it just didn't.
Divination was still helpful every now and then. The Gryffindors all had their really good subjects, and
this year, every single mandatory subject except Herbology was with the Ravenclaws. They were going to like that,
Reggie knew. The Gryffindors were normally stuck with the Slytherins. Unfortunately, the Slytherins would
have the Hufflepuffs to tease. If only the Ravenclaws had been stuck with the Slytherins- They would have
nothing really to make fun of. But Potions would be horrible because Snape hated the Hufflepuffs more than
he hated the Gryffindors. And then, for electives, as usual, Arithmancy was Gryffindors/Ravenclaws, Care of Magical Creatures was Ravenclaws/Slytherins, and her last class, Divination, was Ravenclaws/Hufflepuffs.
See? She was thinking. She was doing research on magic students that, because of their parents' jobs,
had to travel a whole lot. There was one girl whose father had legal troubles and whose mother was dead,
and she had been kicked out of Durmstrang once, Beauxbatons twice, and she had moved from the American
Academy because her father had wanted her back in Europe, they were both British. Her mother was a French
Veela, and she had relatives everywhere she had schooled except for Durmstrang. But even then, she had
spent her summers at Hogwarts.
Reggie would have loved to be able to play Quidditch, but she had no possible way to practice,
and she wasn't too good to begin with. The girl she had been researching was trained fresh in her first
year by Viktor Krum, and the Americans had taught her Quidditch well. She also knew their sport, Quod, and
was an excellent photographer.
This year she would be going to Hogwarts. She sounded less like a Ravenclaw (though she was smart)
and more like a Gryffindor- But she would be useful for help in Transfiguration. And, she was also doing
part of her seventh year theses (she sure studied like a Ravenclaw) on the Ravenclaw family, so Reggie had
something to exchange for help.
Maybe there was more to life than studying and avoiding Professor Snape, but Reggie was yet to find
it.
Arabella Figg looked up from the letter she had received from Gemini Black, one of the sisters of her Hogwarts schoolmate, Sirius Black. He was on the run now, but his little girl needed a home to stay at during Christmas. The Blacks had moved to America and France, at least the rest of them. Sirius's little girl needed a home, now that she was finally back, schooling in England, at the finest of the finest.
Arabella was particularly excited. She hadn't seen Sirius's daughter since her first birthday celebrated at her dear friend Lily's house. It was rather amusing, actually. Her birthday had been in August, and little Harry's in July, the two had been what James had called, Marauders To The Bone, and finally, finally, she was home.
Arabella quickly scratched her reply and tripped over her dead husband's stupid cats again. She hadn't had a need for magic ever since she had broken her leg four years before, and she peeped out the window. There he was, her best friend's son, weeding for the evil Dursleys. If Lily had seen this, she would have been so angry. But, Lily would also point out two nice things about it. Firstly, he was not growing up in the creepy mansion he would have been forced to, recognizing house elves as his parents, and secondly, at least Arabella was there to watch him.
Harry Potter groaned. Normally he would have been happy to stay at home while his aunt went to the market. But Dudley and his gang were home, trying out their new Smeltings sticks. And plus, Uncle Vernon was on vacation, he had broken his leg tripping over one of Dudley's presents. So, better be able to follow his aunt with his arm full of packages then stay at home with grumpy Uncle Vernon and troublemaking Dudley.
His aunt led him through the market, adding a parcel every now and then. Harry swore he had seen Mrs. Figg walking five feet ahead of them with a girl, black-haired with a medium build. But now, there was just a pretty woman (thirty-seven, perhaps) that looked like Fleur Delacour would have, except much older, and the same girl was following her.
Reggie had been assigned to a new wizarding bachelor this year, one that would take her to her vault on August 31st and help her shop, then put her on the train the next day. She had her trunk packed, and she was going to help the matron of the orphanage shop for some cheaper, molding apples, when there came a great knock at the door.
"Regina, darling, you have a visitor." The matron called with her best motherly tone. Most likely it was a man in a suit, exactly one that the matron would try to suck up to for "tips".
Reggie stood up tall and came down the stairs. Her jaw dropped when she saw her former D.A.DA professor, Mr. Lupin.
"P-p-professor! How lovely it is.." She trailed off, remembering he was a werewolf. But, she spying on Hermione Granger's private notes, knew he wasn't dangerous.
"Regina, you may call me Remus. Everyone does." He said quietly. He looked definitely like his suit had been stored in a cage of mothballs. It was a musty, yet welcoming smell, as all of Regina's clothes were plain and starched stiff.
"I believe we have quite a journey to make. London is a bit far away from Little Whinging, isn't it?"
Liberty knew she was not, in Taura's standards, being good. But, nonetheless, she slipped the expensive dress robes that she had secretly bought and the matching dress into the trunk of the girl with Mrs. Figg's old friend. She looked so plain, but Liberty knew she could look better. Especially with the dress. It was midnight blue velvet trimmed with silver silk, and the dress robes were silver silk with blue velvet trim. Liberty smiled. "When you can't pay it back, pay it forward."
She recited this rule as she slipped more in. A little handbag that was silver silk, a pair of midnight blue heels, perfect.
Reggie stared at the friend of Professor Lupin. The girl that was with ("Uh, er, uh.. Mrs. Figg.") Mrs. Figg was quite a mysterious one. Reggie looked about the busy street and swore she spotted the Weasleys and Harry Potter, but she couldn't prove her point very well, she had to get her new Arithmancy book.
Harry and Ron wandered down Diagon Alley, looking for cheap pick-me-ups. Harry saw Professor Lupin, or Remus, as he insisted, and made his way over.
There was the part-Veela woman he had seen at the market just a week before, standing in front of Florean's, with the girl he saw. He couldn't get a good look at her, but she looked familiar.. Very familiar.
"Parle vous Francae?" Asked a girl at the station. She was entering Harry Potter's compartment (where
Ginny, Lee, Fred, George, and, unbeknownst to anyone else, Regina Ravenclaw. Hermione and Regina were the
only ones who spoke French fluently.) and Harry and Ron gave her a strange look. Ron spoke up first.
"Do you go to Beauxbatons?" He asked slowly, as if the language barrier made her slow.
"Oui, oh, er, no." She replied, somewhat confused.
Harry took it into his responsibility to help. "You are French, right?"
Hermione and Regina giggled. Ron glared and began again when the girl shook her head. "Do YOU go to
BEAUXBATONS?" He asked slowly and loudly, treating her as if she was stupid.
"No." She said flatly. Unknown to Ron, no in English is the same as Italian, French, Portuguese and Spanish.
He repeated his question, slower and louder. Hermione and Regina continued to giggle.
"No." She repeated flatly, toying with one of her wavy black locks.
"DO YOU GO TO BEAUXBATONS?!?!" He asked, yelling at her slowly.
"No is the same in English, French, Portuguese, Italian and Spanish, you bloody idiot." She said in a
British accent. Hermione giggled, but remembered her manners.
"My name is Hermione." She said, sticking out her hand. The girl shook it.
"My name is Liberty. I am not from Beauxbatons, but I've been kicked out twice." She said, studying her
surroundings with wide eyes. "I've been to Hogwarts before, but never by the train. It's nice."
"Kicked out?" Hermione whispered in an aghast voice. Fred and George snickered.
"Yes, and Durmstrang. However, I left the American Academy on my own terms." She said as if talking about
the weather.
"You've been to Hogwarts, have you?" Lee asked, ignoring the fact that she had been expelled three
times.
"Every summer except after my third year." She said quickly. "And this year. I spent it in Paris with my
cousin Taura." She winced at the name.
"Ah, Paris!" Hermione said dreamily.
"Do you know what house you'll be in?" Ginny asked politely. Ron was still glowering over her French
trick.
"Gryffindor. Definitely. All my family's been." Reggie's eyes grew wide.
"I've read about you!" Reggie said, staring pointedly at her.
"Who's that?" Harry asked, not noticing before.
"Reggie Ravenclaw, from Ravenclaw. She's in my Arithmancy class." Hermione said. "Who is she,
Reggie?"
"Liberty. She's been-" Reggie began, but Ron sputtered, interrupting her.
"You look a lot like this Quidditch player from America." He began, but then realized he was spilling a secret. "That Quidditch player in the American league? He's from New York, but he's on a Massachusetts team."
"Yeah, that's my cousin Orion." Liberty said quickly. "He and Viktor Krum taught me to play. Orion also taught me Quod."
"Viktor Krum, Hermione's boyfriend, taught you Quidditch?!" Lee burst. "He's the most amazing Seeker
of all time!"
"Just like my father was the best commentator of all time!" Liberty burst, mocking Lee's excited tone.
"I'm your father?" Lee asked with a very odd tone. Liberty laughed uncomfortably.
"No, no, no.. The commentator S. Black."
"Three prominent Quidditch figures in your life? Lucky..." Lee whispered. Harry, Hermione and Ron
looked worried. Liberty realized she slipped up.. But maybe they would think that since Black was such a common last name-
"So, Reggie.. You actually related to Rowena Ravenclaw?" She began coolly. Reggie nodded.
"GREAT! My seventh year thesis involves the Ravenclaw family! Do you know a little about your
family history?" Liberty asked excitedly.
George looked up from the parchment in front of him. "You've already started on your seventh year thesis? I
haven't even started on mine, and I'm in seventh year!"
"The elective I'm using needs a lot more time for research." She said. "History of Magic."
Fred groaned. "Eww.. History of Magic."
"It's easy if you know how to do research." Liberty said. "I could help you two with your thesis."
"We get good marks, we just don't look like we study. If we look like we care now, then what good will our six years of earning a reputation be worth?" Lee asked innocently. She giggled.
"Fine, but if you haven't even picked a topic.." She began, but Hermione interrupted.
"You've started on your theses? I have no idea what to do for mine!"
"Knowing your rep, any paper on Animagi would be good for you." Liberty said quickly.
"How do you know about me?" Hermione asked, her eye full of suspicion.
"Fleur told me before I got kicked out." She said, finding a seat to prop herself up on.
"I'm going to like you." Reggie and Hermione said to Liberty at the same time.
Ron and Harry exchanged worried looks.
Gryffindor, he knew the way
To protect the weak!
Hufflepuff, she worked and toiled
Yet still she turned out meek.
Slytherin, he got his way
No matter what it took.
Ravenclaw, she studied and inspected
Every research nook.
These four wizards (and witches!) left their brains
Inside of me.
What house you will belong in?
Put me on and see.
Great wizards have come from all..
Great in their own way.
So put me on!
But do be scared-This is your judgment day.
Liberty yawned. The sorting hat had done much better before- She knew him on a personal basis. This was
going to be easy.
Alright, Libby, I know you're bored.. Studying isn't your first instinct, just a habit.. The pranks won't
get you too far in Slytherin, knowing you would play them on your fellow house members.. You're too smart
for Hufflepuff.. You knew what house you would be in anyway, so, what the hay? GRYFFINDOR.
Liberty neither looked proud or displeased with herself, she knew she was going to end up there.
Hermione was annoying Ron and Harry by going on and on about how wonderful it was that she could start her
theses. They would snort and nod every now and then, but they were distracted.
"Should we mention her?" Ron mouthed. "Sirius said we could always ask for help.."
"But this isn't help." Harry hissed. "This is his personal life. Plus, Black is a common last name, we don't know what Sirius did for a living, and why bother to ask."
"How were we supposed to know about his family?"
"We didn't bother to ask, did we? She sounds like a troublemaker.. Snape is going to hate her."
"Parle vous Francae, Monsieur Sevvy?" Chimed a voice at the back of the room. Snape was looking up
and about to growl, when he saw Liberty's smirking face.
"Which one was it this time, Libby?" He asked in an exasperated tone, looking back down at his book.
"WHAT? Can't anyone think that I just wanted to go to the finest magic school in the world and return at
last to my homeland?" She asked, still keeping up the British accent.
He raised his eyebrows. She muttered about Trelawney's teachings actually working, avoiding the eyes of the rest of the class.
"Beauxbatons." She muttered finally, breaking the silence and making Ron glare. ("I knew she knew French!")
"Again!?" Snape asked with surprise. "What did you do?" Hermione gasped. ("Again?")
"WHAT? Can't anyone think that I just wanted to go to the finest magic-" She began, but he raised his
eyebrows. "I blew up one of Madame Maxime's shoes and it hit Marie Bubaline in the eye and she was stuck
in the hospital wing for a week. I also dipped Fleur Delacour's curls in ink, added a little extra tequila
to the horses' mix, put shoe polish in the escargot, and then there's the graffiti on the back of the
carriage-" She said rather quickly, but Snape put his hand up to stop her.
"Couldn't you last for more than a year?"
"No."
"Get back to work, Libby.. And don't give any of my students any new ideas- Especially the Weasleys." He said, shaking his head. He asked in a lower, more excited tone. "Did you really put shoe polish in the escargot?"
"IT WAS FANTASTIC! Madame Maxime took the honorary first bite and the black junk oozed out of her mouth
and lasted on her teeth for a week, even with all the Charms she put on them. She eventually called a dentist, who capped all her teeth. He was two feet tall, so he had to stand on a ladder.." She began excitedly, but, as if for the first time, she noticed her audience.
"I'll tell you about it later.." She whispered, returning to the Potions book in front of her.
"What potions were you taught?" Professor Snape asked coolly, as if there had been no conversation with Libby at all.
"I can do Fred Weasley's homework, Professor." She chirped. "This Truth Potion is sooo easy."
"I am not liking this girl, not liking her at all." Ron hissed to Hermione.
"You didn't like me either in our first year, and I was just like that." She hissed back. Harry stifled a laugh.
"And, Professor- I'd rather these slow Brits figure out who I am the hard way." Libby added softly. Harry stared at her openly. "Maybe then they'll understand my pain."