Disclaimer: I don't think I took anything this time; except the charm to keep owls from finding you… that's Barb's, the author of the Psychic Serpent series, used without permission. Everything you recognize from the books belongs to JK Rowling.
A/n: Well, if you've stuck around for this chapter, I hope you're enjoying yourself and not just taking up time you have to much of! Just so you know, this chapter is set in Harry's first year, which is the same as PS/SS. Even
Emmy claimed she remembered her mother. She told everyone her mother had blond hair, the color of sunlight. She boasted that her mother's eyes were clear and blue, like they had been painted with bright paint. She said she could still smell the perfume of her mother... hear her laugh. Emmy had a wonderful imagination, and was a good liar and an even better actress. Emmy's mother had left her when she was only three. Emmy had a picture and a small bottle of perfume. The perfume smelled of lavenders, Aubrey's favorite scent. They were all Emmy had to remind her, and the only stories she had were the ones she made up herself. Emmy sometimes dreamed of her mother. In her dreams, they were on a swing set, happily jumping around. Sometimes, Emmy would be on a swing and her mother on the other. Sometimes, her mother would push her. But they had the most fun when they raced up the rope ladder and flew down the slide, blond hair flying out behind them. Sooner or later, though, Aubrey always left Emmy alone. She always left with the same five words. "Remember Lavender, we love you…"
Emmy sat at the Ravenclaw table, surrounded by her friends. She had a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach, like something important was about to happen.
"Guys, I have a weird feeling in my stomach," Emmy confided in her friends.
"Well, Emica Powell," Dan began. If they didn't know him better, she and her friends would have thought he was serious. "I do believe it is quite possible that that sensation is, is," Dan started to laugh. Between his chuckles he spluttered, "You're… hungry!" Not many other third years laughed, though a few of the second years found the weak joke hilarious.
"Thanks, Doctor, but I don't think so. I feel like something is about to happen." Dan opened his mouth to say something, but Emmy shoved her hand over his mouth. "I do believe that you've said quite enough!" She and her dorm mates laughed.
"When's dinner?" Matt whined. Matt and Dan were best friends and had everything in common. They both loved to joke, but neither was often funny. Many girls liked them, but only the ones that didn't really know them that well. All the Ravenclaw girls knew that they were just two goofy boys who happened to be really cute. Of course, they all made fun of the boys, mocking them all the time. Ivy looked up and, seeing a few second years from Hufflepuff staring over, giggled behind her hand.
"Oh, Matt, Dan. You two are so hot!" Ivy giggled, blushed, and fluttered her eyelashes. She took a slender, tan hand and rested it on Dan's arm. Ivy ran her long, painted red nail up and down Matt's arm, giggling flirtatiously. She was turning red from the effort not to laugh.
"Shove off! It's not our fault the chicks love us!" Matt cried.
Emmy looked at him and realized he was serious. She leaned over and stage whispered in Tara's ear, "Oh my God, he's serious! Lord, help us all!" They both laughed, and Matt and Dan just stuck their tongues out.
"Boys, girls! Please, settle down! The first years will be entering," Dumbledore paused, glancing at the huge doors, "now!" The doors opened and terrified first years entered. Dumbledore put a patched and frayed hat on a stool, and left it. As the hat began to sing, the older students rolled their eyes at the first years' gasps. A few, namely Matt and Dan, mocked the first years, dropping their mouths, widening their eyes, and gasping, "Oh my dear Lord! Look at that, Matt, Emmy, Ivy, that hat is singing!" The others simply rolled their eyes and turned their attention to the hat.
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart?
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
Everyone, including Matt and Dan, broke into a loud applause. A few boys at the Gryffindor table stood on their feet and whistled in appreciation. Once the hall quieted down, Professor McGonagall began to call names. One by one, nervous looking first years walked slowly up to try on the hat.
"Abbott, Hannah!"
"Hufflepuff!
"Bones, Susan!"
"Hufflepuff!"
"Boots, Terry!" became the first Ravenclaw, and "Brocklehurst, Mandy" followed into Emmy's house.
"Brown, Lavender!" Lavender was a small, wispy girl with a mass of golden curls. Emmy thought she looked familiar. As the hat fell onto that wonderful, bouncy hair, Emmy remembered her dreams. Her mother, Aubrey, had that hair. Emmy's hair, however, was dark and wavy.
"Gryffindor!" The hat came off, and Lavender bounced over to the scarlet decorated table. She looked around the room once, her eyes resting on Emmy, and Emmy gasped. Even from across the hall, she could see the clear blue eyes that stared back whenever Emmy looked into the mirror.
***~***
Lavender sighed with happiness. She was in a new place, a new life. No one here knew her. At Hogwarts, everyone was magical; she no longer had to be careful about talking about her true heritage. The only thing she wasn't allowed to mention was her mother's name: Aubrey Somers Brown. Lavender was not sure why; she only knew that it was important no one knew her mother. Lavender had shrugged it off and promised not to say anything, but now that she was here, it seemed like forever ago that she had kissed her mother good-bye and climbed on the train by herself.
Lavender yawned and wondered how long the sorting would last. Finally, the headmaster snapped his fingers and food appeared on the plates. Lavender shoveled the food onto her plate, and then into her mouth in quick movements. When she was done with her second helpings, she glanced around. Not many people were done yet. The exception was three other first years, all sitting near her. One of them was Harry Potter; she had heard stories of him from her mother. Lavender didn't think he looked very special, just lost, and nervous. Looking away from him, she turned to the girl across from her. Hermione Granger, McGonagall had called her. She had a look on her face that said "I'm smarter, prettier, deeper, nicer, and kinder than you. In other words, I'm better than you." Lavender thought she looked rather rude and looked at the girl next to her. Deeming her okay, Lavender stuck out her hand.
"Lavender Brown, pureblood witch. A suburb off of London, England. You?" The girl looked a bit over whelmed, but stuck out her hand, looking glad at least to have met someone at least a little friendly.
"Parvati Patil, half blooded witch. Raised in a muggle household by my father, I didn't know I was a witch until the letter came. I'm from Scotland. Nice to meet you." Lavender looked her up and down, approvingly. The girl was slightly pretty, not beautiful, but not hideous either with soft, wavy brown hair. She had freckles, which were the youngest looking part of her. She carried herself in a way Lavender liked, not scared and meek, but not stuck up either. Lavender took her hand and shook it. She and Parvati, she knew, would be friends a long time.
***~***
"Emmy, Emmy! Wake up…" Ivy waved her hand in front of Emmy's face. It was no use. Emmy was off in another one of her dazes, this time staring at the Gryffindor table. "Emmy! What are you...?" Ivy followed her friend's gaze, and saw a first year talking to a new friend of hers. "What is so important about that little girl, Emmy? Good Lord, what has gotten into you, girl?" Seeing no response in Emmy, Ivy turned back to the others, and shamelessly flirted with Andy Robinson, a cute fourth year from Ravenclaw.
Suddenly, Emmy snapped awake. Realizing she had been staring at the Gryffindor table, she blushed. She had to know what was with that girl. She felt… drawn to that first year. Getting up, Emmy grabbed Ivy, who, in turn, grabbed Tara. Together, they all headed over to the Gryffindor table.
"Ivy, where are you taking me?" Tara complained, snatching her robes out of her friend's clutches.
"I'm not sure, actually. Where are we going, Emmy?"
"The Gryffindor table," Emmy replied calmly. The feeling was beginning to subside, but as soon as Emmy thought of turning back, she felt herself being pulled over again. Emmy surrendered to her instincts and let herself be led to the Gryffindor table.
***~***
"Lavender! Look at those third years! What do you suppose they're doing coming over here? They, or at least one of them, is looking at you!" Lavender looked up from her desert. To her surprise, Parvati was telling the truth. Three girls, Ravenclaws from the looks of it, were coming towards her. The leader was looking straight at her. Lavender looked at her blue eyes and gasped.
They looked exactly the same as Lavender's.
"You have my eyes." Lavender was surprised by the bluntness of this girl. This girl had business with her, but the girl looked confused.
"Excuse but, who are you?" Lavender asked just as bluntly. The two girls behind the leader snickered.
"Emica Rose Powell, Emmy for short. Third year Ravenclaw. Pureblood wizard. My mom ran off when I was three right after my dad died. Haven't heard from her since. Who are you?"
"I'm sorry," Lavender apologized quietly. She had never known her dad. Lavender was still sensitive about that. "Lavender Rose Somers Brown, just Lavender. First year Gryffindor. Also pureblood. I never knew my dad. I think he died before I was born, but I'm not sure. The only family I have is my mom, Aubrey." This information seemed to grab hold of Emmy. Emmy gasped, whispered a quick good-bye, and ran off, pulling with her the two friends she hadn't yet introduced.
"Well, that was weird." Lavender looked at Parvati, who shrugged. "Well, it was."
Lavender laughed. "I suppose you're right. Come on, everyone else is leaving."
***~***
Later that night, Emmy got up, grabbed a piece of parchment from under her pillow, and snuck downstairs. She looked around, expecting to see someone jump out of the shadows and grab her. No one did. She opened the portrait hole, and walked quickly and silently through the halls, listening closely for any sign of Mrs. Norris or Filch.
She reached the owlery without any trouble. All the owls were mixed together this year—school and personal. She didn't have time to check for tags because she had to get back before anyone noticed she was gone, so she took the first one she saw. Emmy attached the letter to the owl's leg, and sent it off.
"Take it to Aubrey Somers Powell or Aubrey Brown, whichever you find first," she whispered, praying it would find the right person. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and made her way back to the common room.
"Miss Powell! Where exactly do you think you're going?" Filch's beady eyes glowed, anticipating the prospect of coming up with a detention so early on in the year.
'Great. Classes haven't even started, and I already have a detention. Just spiffy.'
***~***
Aubrey pulled back the covers, sighing.
She would have to put the spells back up tomorrow so no one could find her. She was probably safe from now on. Next year Lavender would have friends she could go to Diagon Alley with. Muggle born friends, hopefully. She would leave the spells off of Lavender from now on, but she no longer had to leave any off of her. No owls could find her, except under the name of Ms. Aubrey Brown. Nothing under Bree, or under Powell or Somers. But she could wait until tomorrow. She would get up bright and early to replace them. There was no way someone would actually owl her at this time of night, and she got up before most normal people, especially her old friends who had always liked sleeping in. Especially since it was the full moon, and that meant that only three of her best friends would be able to send any owls tonight—the rest were either dead, transforming, or in prison. Albus would have given up on trying to find her years ago. He wouldn't bother trying tonight, maybe over the summer, but not tonight. And who else would? Emmy probably wouldn't think of it. She probably didn't even remember her. Aubrey rolled over and cried herself to sleep, remembering the Bree Somers Powell who died eleven and a half years ago.
She had finally fallen asleep when a pecking at the window woke her up. Jesus, Lavender, did you have to owl me so damn late? Aubrey thought when she saw that it was Lavender's owl.
She took off the letter, looking at the front. Aubrey Somers Powell Brown. Aubrey opened the letter, skimming through. Then she fell back on her bed in a dead faint.
A/n: There's chapter one! I hoped you liked it! I'm hoping for some reviews before I finish writing the next chapter, but there will be five before I post it! ;) So review and hope for some quick writing! You guys got lucky this time… two chapters at once… next time I'll include thank you's to my reviewers! I'll try to update soon, but my mom might turn off the Internet again on me. (Damn being grounded!)