Severus was not having a good first day as Headmaster of Hogwarts — that much was clear from the moment Mimi entered his office, escorted by a stocky, plain-faced witch with poor posture and wide streak of cruelty that Mimi thought was probably visible even to non-legilimens. Ronald, ghosting along behind them under what Mimi was pretty sure was the Invisibility Cloak (Henry had used it to sneak out to meet her in London, because that was exactly what you should do if you happen to be gifted a Deathly Hallow for your bloody birthday), had certainly taken an instant dislike to her. She hadn't introduced herself by name (Alecto Carrow), but rather as the Deputy Headmistress, a title the redhead mentally contested so loudly and clearly Mimi was surprised he managed to keep quiet and avoid detection.
She really hadn't expected any of the three to decide to come with her, but apparently they'd reached the consensus that someone should keep an eye on her (as though they'd be able to catch her betraying them, talking to Sev via legilimency, or do a damn thing about it if she did). Ronald, as a pureblood whose family were known to oppose the Death Eaters, but who hadn't committed any actual crimes, was the least likely to be punished if he was caught, since he was supposed to be here anyway. (His family had told the Ministry that he had spattergroit, but he could easily tell anyone who questioned it that the rash had cleared up at some point in the past month.) The worst that was likely to happen would be Death Eaters refusing to let him leave, but Mimi had spent eight years sneaking around this Castle, so sneaking him out shouldn't be a problem. And honestly, if all else failed, she could just murder the Death Eaters. There were only two of them here at the moment — Alecto and her brother. This one was capable of at least basic occlumency, but not nearly good enough to stop Mimi forcing her to do a swan dive from the third-floor gallery overlooking the Entrance Hall.
Actually, she might do that anyway, or have a word with the ghosts about getting the Castle to arrange unfortunate accidents for any Death Eater who thought to make themselves at home here. It probably wouldn't make her feel any better about the House of Black having completely fallen, but it might make her feel like she'd accomplished something today.
Kreacher had admitted, with careful questioning (and an apology for making him sleep, earlier), that Sirius had become the Head of the House while Bella was still in Azkaban (after everyone else had died) and disowned her before she escaped. The Family Magic didn't contest that move because, as best she could tell, the elf thought the Family Magic thought Bella had contracted some memetic parasite from Thom through their soul-bond (which was...plausible), and if it invested itself in her it would be similarly compromised. But then Sirius had gone and died, and with no one left to support it, the Family Magic had gone entirely dormant. Kreacher was only there and still able to do magic because Sirius had re-worked the elf-wards on Grimmauld as place-wards, to keep Kreacher bound and prevent him betraying Harry.
When both Sirius and Bella had been in Azkaban, there had still been hope that Sirius would escape and make things right before it essentially starved to death, which, he had escaped, but he hadn't truly revived the Family Magic. Reading between the lines of Kreacher's story and what she'd seen of Sirius in the kids' memories, she suspected that he'd never really recovered from his time in Azkaban in this timeline and had been too down to make the necessary sacrifices to restore it to its former strength, even if investing itself in him had temporarily stopped the magic's slow slide into decoherence.
Now that even he was gone, it had had no hope for another reprieve. The Family Magic had sunk its consciousness as deeply as it could into the place-wards, in the hope, Kreacher thought, that it would slip painlessly from dormancy to decoherence. Putting itself into a coma in the hopes it would starve to death in its sleep, essentially, rather than awake and aware of the process.
She could wake it up — she'd probably have to, to give them a safehouse against the DAPs — but doing so would hurt both of them, and would be, in the long-term, a cruelty to the Magic. She was only one witch, and she didn't belong in this timeline. As soon as she left, its reprieve would be over. She'd still do it, saving the entire fucking universe was a little more important than whether she had to stab her Family Magic in the back and twist the knife to do so, but she wouldn't feel good about it. Plus, she wasn't looking forward to it seizing onto her and drawing on her life-force to support itself.
Actually, that was a thought: instead of compelling Alecto and dear Amycus to kill themselves, she could feed them to the Family Magic. It was based in the blood of the House and blood sacrifice. Since they didn't have enough of the one, they'd have to rely on the other. Alright, good plan, Mimi!
That actually did make her feel a bit better. Though only a bit. She would still be leaving it to die again when she went home. Though if she could save Bella...
Don't count your dragons before they hatch, Mimi, she chided herself. That was too many steps ahead, she hadn't even woken the Family Magic yet, or figured out what was wrong with Bella. Though, come to think of it, the Family Magic might have a better idea of exactly what was wrong with Bella, so that was another reason to wake it up, and one which made her feel a hell of a lot less guilty, since it might provide information she could use to save both of them.
Still, she was willing to bet her day rivalled Sev's for its overall shittiness. The people she'd come to warn about an alien invasion were insane, her country didn't exist, and her Family Magic was dying. And it was only nine.
What was the worst that could've happened to Sev so far? He'd had to eat breakfast in a room with twelve-hundred people who thought he was a murderer and hated his guts? Not really likely to make his eggs more palatable, but not the same scale of suck as there's an alien invasion happening in three weeks.
She projected that last thought directly at him, felt him catch it and the curious-wary oh, fuck, what now feeling it evoked, though there was no sign of it on his face. (Harry and his friends really didn't give Sev enough credit.)
"This one claims to be from Brittany," Carrow said, in her rough smoker's voice. "Says she missed her portkey across the Channel yesterday," she added, her tone making it very clear that this was an offence which ought to be punished with thumbscrews.
Severus sighed. "Very well. Please excuse us, Alecto. It seems I need to discuss the importance of promptness with Miss..."
"De Mort, Monsieur," she provided, with a hint of a French accent and what she felt was an impressively straight face. The name caught his attention (as well as Carrow's, who couldn't decide if she was taking the piss — on the one hand, there was no actual House de Mort, but on the other, who the hell would dare claim to be related to the Dark Lord if she weren't? — and Ronald's, who quietly choked on a laugh, behind her and off to her right), cutting through the exhaustion and the responsibility weighing on him even more clearly than her thought about that impending alien invasion. His eyes widened as he recognised hers. "Mimi de Mort."
"It seems I need to speak to...Miss de Mort before she is sorted. Thank you for fetching her from the gates. You may return to your duties."
Carrow clearly resented being dismissed by him, like he was in charge of her or something (which he absolutely was), and even more-so being thanked. Patronising arse. But she also didn't want to spend any more time in his company than absolutely necessary, so she left with an abrupt nod, still wondering if Mimi was actually related to the Dark Lord. She did sort of look like she could be, but if she was, why hadn't anyone ever heard of her before? Why was she here, instead of at Malfoy Manor?
Why was Voldemort using Malfoy Manor as his base of operations? Didn't he have his own stronghold somewhere? That was just shoddy dark-lordsmanship, right there. Lacked a certain degree of class, bumming an evil lair off an old mate, at least in Mimi's opinion.
She left those thoughts unguarded, too, but Sev didn't take the bait (pity, seemed like he could use a laugh), instead conjuring sheets over the Portraits of Headmasters Past and shrouding the room with privacy spells.
"De Mort, is it?" he said, all dry and scathing.
She giggled, flopping into the nearest chair. "I hear it's a popular pseudonym in these parts."
"Who are you really?" he asked, allowing a hint of a smirk to play around his lips, either trying to lull her into a false sense of ease, or because he assumed anyone who had Lily's eyes and would co-opt the name de Mort to a Death Eater's face had to be on his side. "Weasley," he added, "take off that damnable cloak, and sit down."
"How'd you know I was there?" Ronald complained, doing as he was told.
"I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Mister Weasley," Sev bit out. "As such—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know, call you sir, show some respect— I'm not a student anymore, and I don't care if Mira thinks you were right to do it and you're still on our side, you lost my respect the second you killed Dumbledore!"
"Are you quite finished?" he asked, somewhat waspishly, as though the answer had damn well better be yes, sir. "That cloak does not allow one to be detected directly, but that very absence of information from the wards is itself detectable. The wards informed me, the Headmaster, that there was a hole in their perception of the room. The size and shape of the void suggested that you were the tallest of the three individuals who might be expected to turn up wearing that particular Invisibility Cloak."
"So, basically exactly the same way I knew where you were," Mimi added. "You're a solid, invisible something affecting the patterns of ambient magic around you, but not interacting with them."
"I know of exactly one person who can read patterns in ambient magic," Sev noted. Pointedly. That would be Bella. Siri used a charm to filter out the ambient 'noise', but no one had told Mimi about the spell until she'd already gotten used to it and learned to interpret it. Also, he was dead here. Had to remember that...
"Alright, you caught me. Mira Black," she admitted. "Mira Calytrix Black." She watched him put it together in about half a second.
Calytrix. Starflower. Star. Flower. Black. Lily's eyes... "Well, Black makes more sense than Potter," he said drily, though inside he was appalled. (Because he hated Sirius Black — far more in this timeline than in her own — but also because any child of Sirius Black and Lily Evans was bound to be a bloody nightmare.)
"I know, right? As far as I can tell, the primary difference between our two timelines is that this version of Lily had terrible taste in men."
That got a genuinely amused smirk out of him.
Point to Mimi! she thought at him, with a sort of minor triumph feeling attached.
"I'm quite certain there are other more significant differences, or you would not be here, making my day that much more stressful."
"What, that's it? Harry's crazy, mind-reading half-sister shows up from another timeline, and you just— What kind of cold-blooded—"
"Do shut up, Weasley," Sev cut him off. "What would you have me do? Deny the reality of the situation for several hours before admitting that the idea of Harry's crazy, mind-reading half-sister showing up from another timeline is the least ludicrous explanation for the existence of the girl sitting beside you?" For a certain value of sitting, he added disapprovingly — she was actually sort of lounging, with her knees over one arm of the chair. That cannot possibly be comfortable...
She straightened up with an overly-exaggerated sulky pout, though she didn't hide her delight that he was willing to talk to her telepathically. Her Sev always said that was a terrible habit, though Thom and Sirius (who wasn't a mind-mage, but sort of did occlumency as though it were legilimency) both used casual telepathy to talk to her.
It is a terrible habit, but in certain cases, such as when one has a great deal of information to impart to another mind-mage, it is also a very useful skill. I presume you were planning to tell me about this alien invasion of yours.
Indeed, she thought back, mimicking his dry, "you can't impress me, I've seen everything" tone. And I need to know exactly what the fuck happened to Bella and Thom, so while you verify that I am who Weasley says I am, and come to terms with the fact that the insane Death Eaters taking power in London and everybody hating you are the least of your problems, I'm going to poke around your memories of Seventy-Nine and Eighty, see if I can find any clues. Good? Good, she declared, weaselling her way into his mind without waiting for his response.
Has your Sev ever told you that you're a pushy, inconsiderate little bint? That was a rhetorical question, since she had to have at least twenty memories of him telling her some variation of that, most often in circumstances similar to this, which Severus was almost certainly about to stumble across, since the very act of being a pushy, inconsiderate little bint tended to spark connections to them. Ah, yes, I see that he has.
I come by it honestly. On both sides, actually. And being the centre of the universe for my entire childhood probably didn't help. According to your counterpart.
The questioning feeling raised by centre of the universe was replaced with extreme annoyance as he wandered into memories of her childhood, shut up here in the Castle. From there, she could feel him sweeping through memories of her family and the years immediately after she moved to New Avalon, focusing on the process of acquiring an understanding of the outside world, as well as the contextual information which formed the backdrop of her mind, much as she had, picking apart the muggleborn's understanding of this timeline earlier. It was always easier to create a framework of understanding from the experience of someone who had explicitly learned something rather than picking it up organically, simply by being raised around it. It was a less thorough understanding than working through the contextual memories of a native resident or speaker or practitioner of the skill or cultural element(s) in question, but enough to be getting on with.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much of use in Severus's mind, as far as figuring out what was wrong with Thom and Bella went. All he really knew was, sometime shortly after his recruitment he'd become aware that Thom was slowly going insane. Bellatrix had been covering for him, but after Regulus's betrayal, when Thom had pushed her away, it had become all too obvious. She hadn't truly started slipping until a few months after that, which would make sense if this thing, whatever it was, started with Thom and spread to her. She'd very obviously had a breakdown when Lily destroyed Voldemort's body and, in Severus's opinion, never really recovered.
Before all that, she wouldn't have been affected by the dementors, he didn't think, but either whatever damage had been done to her mental faculties, or perhaps the fact of her faith in Voldemort being rewarded by her eventual rescue, had led to her coming out of the prison even more lost and...almost a parody of the witch Mimi knew — absolutely devoted to Thom and his cause, revelling in the chaos and violence of a fight, impulsive and reckless, but...twisted, devotion and respect turned to simpering sycophancy and empty-headed adoration, her intelligence and rigid self-discipline gone, nearly as great a danger to herself and her own people as she was to the enemy. The Death Eaters' respect for both her and Thom had been lost, those who had returned to his side only doing so because they were bound to do so by the soul-brand.
And Thom — Voldemort — seemed to have been taken in by blood purity rhetoric, which Mimi knew for a fact he thought was dragonshite, Bella following along in lock-step, despite the fact Mimi knew she was more comfortable with werewolves and wilderfolk than humans. And Thom was the "worst sort" of half-blood himself! His father had actually been a muggle! a fact which hadn't been widely known in this timeline before he had himself resurrected in a muggle graveyard, but which even further undercut the little respect anyone had left for him. (It wasn't widely known in Mimi's timeline either. It wasn't a secret, but by the time he had enough legitimacy not to fear Dumbledore or someone else who'd known him as a boy somehow sabotaging his efforts to build his movement, everyone already knew him as de Mort.)
And it seemed that in the last two years of the war, before the thirteen year hiatus, he'd been attracting increasingly racist and irrational people, followers in it for the sadism and cruelty rather than the Cause, becoming in truth the movement Light propaganda like all the shite floating around Weasley's head painted them to be, which was just— Wait.
Hadn't she thought this Thom seemed like a caricature of himself, too? And Bella was even worse, her loyalty turned to the sort of obsessive devotion and adoration that screamed love potion. Not that she thought it was, but that was also how the Light painted her — not as a Dark Lady and a power to be reckoned with in her own right, but as though she was so personally devoted to her Lord that she would do anything for him.
Thanks to her many, many conversations with Dumbledore throughout her childhood, Mimi had realised fairly early on, when she was maybe eight or nine, that the Light was awfully sexist. They had very specific ideas about how ladies were supposed to be, and Bella — the real Bella, whip-smart and confrontational and terrifying in a fight — was not it. Ladies, according to Albus Dumbledore (and Uncle James, and even Henry, though he tried not to be an arse about it), should be quiet and demure and graceful, accomplished but not necessarily intelligent, unquestioning of their lord's decisions and the world into which they were born, and they were definitely not supposed to lead a revolution like a fucking warrior queen out of legend.
Yes, Thom had been Bella's teacher since she was about eight, he had been a huge influence on her, and her respect for him was immense. She was devoted enough to do anything for him, up to and including building an army and starting a war because he wanted to be in a position where he couldn't be coerced into following the stupid, Light laws that so limited the practice of witchcraft in Britain. That didn't mean that she followed him around all doe-eyed, hanging on his every word. She teased him almost as much as Sirius, because he took himself way too seriously (sort of like Sev, actually), and was arguably a more important figure in New Avalon than he was. Out of the two of them, she was the one who'd been taught to lead a House since she was a small child, and actually knew how to build an army or administrate a small state. There wasn't a single person in New Avalon who didn't think she was capable of ruling in her own right.
But there probably wasn't a single person in Britain who knew that. So far as Ronald knew, her role had been negligible, it wasn't surprising that the Light had downplayed her authority and influence on the movement.
...Fuck, Sev thought, very clearly.
What, did you get to the part where this timeline is definitely going to get buggered over a desk, because if we don't, my timeline won't realise there's a problem and send me and/or help?
What? No, it's— He dragged her attention back to a memory of the first major battle he'd ever participated in, on Mabon of Seventy-Eight, which centred on... Thom was standing in the middle of a circle of standing stones with a handful of others, making an invocation. (Oh, apparently he'd been eavesdropping on her working through what the fuck was wrong with Bella and Thom.)
Young Severus was much too far away and far too distracted fighting for his life to hear the words, but he knew what they were trying to do: a mass compulsion affecting muggles throughout Great Britain, forcing them to act like mages — the Light — thought muggles really acted. He'd spent a lot of time trying to figure out exactly what the Dark Lord meant to accomplish with it, since reducing tens of millions of generally reasonable people to slightly slow, violent, judgmental, mindlessly religious children for a month or two — he wasn't certain how long it was meant to last, but he knew it wasn't permanent — would really just make it clear that that wasn't how muggles actually were, which seemed to run counter to the rubbish spewed around the Slytherin Common Room by his recruiters, and he had to admit, he still didn't know...
This particular plan, I'm quite certain, was never intended to actually succeed — it had far too many moving parts for that. It was, like most of the tactics employed in those days, simply intended to provoke the Ministry. And if it had succeeded, it would have resulted in little more than a nation-wide muggle-baiting stunt. It might actually have drawn attention to the paternalistic attitude of the Light toward muggles in general, and been a net boon for the recognition of muggles as fully capable people, regardless of their lack of magic. I believe most of the more bigoted Death Eaters believed it would force the muggles to "show their true colours" and draw more attention to the fact that they're dangerous and can't be trusted, et cetera, et cetera.
But for all Lily knew, he was planning on doing a mass obliviation or compelling them all to murder their own children or something, he added, as the memory progressed to show a flash of red hair racing across the battlefield toward the circle, flanked by two dark-haired men, holding off the Death Eaters attempting to prevent her from interrupting, bringing the ritual crashing down on their Lord's head.
He lost sight of her, had to stop an auror taking his head off with a cutting curse, duck an Avada the bastard dodged — he was definitely telling Bellatrix someone had been throwing Killing Curses around when there was a high risk of friendly fire! That was way too close!
He was knocked off his feet by what felt like a bloody lorry, ribs felt broken, aaahhh... but he had to get up, if he didn't, he would die—
He didn't know what Lily did, but he felt it, all the power building in the air around them suddenly clenching and collapsing, falling on the centre of the circle like a meteor to Earth, the shock-wave it sent through the magic around them staggering him. A few seconds later, someone signalled a retreat thank the gods...
You think she turned it back on him, Mimi realised, horrified. Twisted it into a tynged and— Oh, fuck.
Exactly.
There wouldn't be a way to reverse it. A tynged was the kind of curse fairy tales were built on. There would be a certain set of circumstances which would end it, but this one would probably only release itself if they could convince everyone in Britain that Thom actually wasn't a bad guy, when they were all firmly convinced he was the worst Dark Lord since fucking Mordred. The other option to end it was for the witch who cast it to take it back, which, Lily was dead, and that might not even work, since it was a perversion of a ritual Thom had been performing, he might have to also want to reverse it, which, from what Mimi had seen of him, he wouldn't, so—
Fuck!
Indeed.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck! It was possible killing Thom would end it. He'd definitely been the focus, Bella hadn't even been in the circle — she'd been playing with Dumbledore, keeping him from interfering. And if killing him broke the curse, it might save Bella, maybe, but Thom had gone to great lengths to make himself damn difficult to kill!
It does seem we have our work cut out for us, Severus thought, heavy and resigned.
Grrrr... Any questions on the DAPs?
No, I think I've seen all of the relevant information. I sincerely doubt that anyone else here will take such a warning seriously, but I will begin making preparations to lock down the school at the first sign of an extra-dimensional assault. Ensure that Filius prioritises fire charms and lightning hexes, and so on.
You might also make preparations to send volunteers home to help defend nearby muggle communities. They do have weapons which are effective against them, but they're not very widespread. A couple of mages throwing around OWL-standard lightning curses can make a huge difference.
A sense of assent surrounded her. You might also consider writing to Druella. I don't know how much of a difference it will make with preparations to deal with the demonic invasion, but she might be willing to help you kill the Dark Lord.
Already on my list. Do you know where she is? In her timeline, obviously Dru was at Miskatonic, but before that she'd been involved with the Avalonian Educational Initiative, developing their own schools, and before that she'd been a historian or something in Paris. There was really no telling where she'd be in this universe. Also, do you mind if I borrow your Carrows? And by borrow, I mean sacrifice to the Black Family Magic.
She's been teaching at the College of Magic in Paris for years. Glad she asked, then. And gods, no. Take them. Then he added, distinctly amused, I think a Defence Professor only lasting a single day might be a new record.
Well, then I'll have to see what I can do about getting back up here before midnight. I was going to go steal a horcrux first, let the kids work on finding a tracking spell that can locate the others while I work on reviving the Magic. Even with a double sacrifice, it's probably going to put me out of commission for a few days. But hey, by that time, Mouldy Voldy will probably have sent you replacement minders, right? So I'll stop by, give you a progress update, and take those ones, too.
I didn't say you can have every Death Eater he sends up here, Severus chided her, distinctly failing to hide his amusement. He will start getting suspicious eventually.
Yeah, well, if he's not dead in three weeks, he's going to have bigger problems than whether you're secretly murdering his minions. But fine, I'll kidnap them from the Ministry or something.
Go deal with the horcrux first, write to Druella, do whatever you need to do to prepare. One week will still be a record, and considerably less suspicious.
Sigh. Fine. I suppose that will have to do. She turned her attention back to the outside world to find Ronald waving a hand in front of her face, like that would actually make a difference in her or Severus's ability to get into each other's minds, especially when they were trying to share information. "Ronald, what are you doing?"
"I— Well, I dunno, you were just, like...staring at each other. For, I dunno, maybe ten minutes. It was creepy."
"Yeah, I was sort of being facetious when I said you could come along. It's not like there's much to see when two mind mages are communicating telepathically."
"What? So—" He frowned, clearly confused. "So you just...read each other's minds, that's it?"
Severus sighed. "The mind is not a book, Mister Weasley, to be interpreted so simply as one reads words off a page."
"What Sev means to say is, yes, basically." He sighed again. Tee hee. "And yeah. That's it. We're done, we can go. But hey, good news! I'm now on Team We Have To Kill Thom. Lily cursed him with a tynged we're not going to be able to reverse, probably ever but definitely within the next three weeks, and sometimes you've got to break a few eggs, right?"
"What?"
"Honestly, it'll probably be a mercy to him. See, remember how I said earlier this Thom is like a caricature of my Thom? Turns out, that's pretty literally the problem. And hopefully killing him will break the spell where it's spread to Bella through their soul-bond. Well, assuming it doesn't actually kill her, too. Actually, maybe we should kidnap her before we finish off Thom — I can put a soul-brand on her too, keep her anchored and help break the bond between them." Do you have some sneaky spy way of passing letters like, faster than owls? she asked Sev. Because I don't have a spare set of communication mirrors yet...
"Oh, yes," he drawled sarcastically, drawing two sheets of parchment out of a drawer and binding them to each other with an enchantment which would allow words written on one to appear on the other. Brill. They'd probably be far enough apart she'd have to push more energy into the spell whenever she wanted it to transmit anything, but that was fine. Functional, at least. "Maybe you should casually kidnap the Blackheart before you nip out and murder the Dark Lord. You are aware that these are still very powerful, very dangerous individuals, are you not?"
"You are aware that I'm a very powerful, very dangerous individual, are you not? Plus, I'm sane—" ("Arguably.") "—and the fate of the universe is at stake, not to mention my Family Magic and the mind of the witch who has been the single biggest influence on me over the course of my life. Highly motivated might be an understatement. Just a bit."
"Be that as it may, if simply wanting something badly enough were to bring about the fulfilment of that desire—"
Mira cut him off, rolling her eyes. "That attitude, right there? That's why you're a shite ritualist. It's not like I'm going to sit on my arse making idle wishes, but yeah, the fact that I want Bella back more than Lily wanted to drag her down, the fact that I care about her a hell of a lot more than this version of Thom is capable of caring anymore? That makes a difference. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a toad to go punch in the face and an ugly-arse necklace to steal."
That startled a laugh out of Ronald, who otherwise wasn't really following the conversation. He didn't have the background in ritual magic to get it.
He raised an eyebrow. "Subtle." Then he closed his eyes to concentrate for a moment — a flash of magic damn near blinded her as he activated the enchantment.
She politely waited until he was done to inform him that, "There is a time for subtlety, Severus, and that time is not when I'm racing a countdown on an existential threat to the entire fucking universe. Besides, if I don't attract attention, how the hell am I supposed to lure Bella out to be kidnapped? Oh! Wait! Speaking of kidnapping people, can you ask the Hat to add me to the wards, so I can come back for the Carrows without someone having to let me in at the gates?"
His lips twitched in a near-smile as he pushed her linked parchment across the desk with a pulse of wandless magic. ("Oh, cheers!") "I suppose. Hat?"
"You'll have to put me on so I can Sort you properly, young lady!" the Hat insisted.
"So you can catch up, you mean?" she teased it, but lifted it from its shelf and set it on her head at a rakish angle.
The Hat didn't really do legilimency like a human (or a veela, or even a dementor). Its power was very narrow, limited by its duty to the school, but incredibly deep, with all the magic of the wards behind it. Bella might be able to keep it out of her mind — Eris had done something so putting external pressure on her mind, trying to fracture her defences, had no effect whatsoever. But no one else could. It could crack Mimi's occlumency like an egg if it wanted to. Not that she really wanted to keep it out. She liked the Hat. Peeves used to kidnap it and bring it to visit her when she lived at (her version of) Hogwarts. She didn't think it remembered her — as far as she knew, Hats didn't share a consciousness across universes and timelines — but the way its perception worked, it was aware of her memories of her interactions with her Hat, from her perspective, which had, at the time, also been the Hat's perspective, so there wasn't much difference.
Interacting with the Hat, its consciousness percolating through her own, sort of tickled, but it didn't hurt, and it was by far the easiest way to identify a new person to the wards of the school. Plus, as an added bonus, she didn't actually have to explain anything to it — it only took a few seconds for the Hat to become familiar with the mind of anyone who put it on, memories and all. Most of the time it spent Sorting new students was actually spent trying to decide which House said student was best suited to, and/or which House would benefit the most from the addition of that particular student.
Her Hat hadn't actually Sorted her, though.
Of course not, you were only five when you met my counterpart. Even eleven is arguably too young to properly Sort children, but you'd barely started becoming a person at all.
Fair. But I don't really have any intention of participating in the school in any way. You don't actually need to Sort me to add me to the wards, I know you don't.
You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to know where you belong, though, it teased her.
Oh, like running off to a sister-timeline to attempt to save the universe single-handedly from an alien invasion isn't the most Gryffindor thing you've ever heard of.
I will admit, it does sound like the sort of poorly-planned endeavour Godric would have supported. But the methods you prefer are undeniably more Slytherin.
Well, fine, then. We both know Slytherin and Gryffindor are just two sides of the same coin. Just pick one, I don't really care.
Well, fine, then. Hufflepuff.
...Because...?
It responded with a flash of last night's welcome feast: Severus wrapping up his speech, welcoming the new students to the school, and pledging to reverse the damage Dumbledore inflicted in his tenure as Headmaster. His listeners had heard a Death Eater promising to brainwash the children of Hogwarts into his way of thinking rather than Dumbledore's, but what he'd meant was that he intended to heal the deep schisms which had developed between the Houses, which Dumbledore had only encouraged.
"It is my intention, my very sincere intention, to do everything in my power to reverse the damage Dumbledore's influence has left on this school, and return to the core principles of the Founders: dedication, perseverance, fortitude and boundless curiosity in the pursuit of knowledge."
Dedication is the foundation of perseverance and fortitude, and the fulfilment of curiosity. What is the desire to better oneself or save the world without the determination to see a project through to the end, come hell or high water? And truth be told, undertaking to save the universe from an alien invasion with only her wand, sword, and whatever allies she could pick up along the way is definitely something Helga would have done before Godric.
...Fair point. History had done Helga dirty, maybe even worse than Slytherin. If half of Helena's stories were true, she'd been a lot more like Bella — protective of her family, sure, but also a terrifyingly ruthless viking warlord who once fought a necromancer in mid-air, on an undead dragon — than the friendly, mumsy pushover she was portrayed as these days.
Yes, unfortunately I couldn't send young Bellatrix to Hufflepuff. There was no place for her in the House as it stood thirty-five years ago. Sending her there would have been a disservice to both the girl and the House. Nor would you fit in with your fellow Hufflepuffs today either, honestly, but you don't really have any intention of participating in the school, so. HUFFLEPUFF!
Mimi rolled her eyes at the Hat as she lifted it off her head. "No need to sound so smug about it."
"Of course there is, do you know how long it's been since I've sent any student who actually reminds me of Helga to her House? Centuries."
"What? How is she a Hufflepuff?" Ronald exclaimed. "I mean, no offence, but creepy dark Death Eater legilimens don't belong in Hufflepuff. What House were you in in your own universe? Timeline, whatever."
Mimi snorted. "I wasn't. I wasn't a student." Ronald was not satisfied with that answer, but it was the only one he was getting. "Still, now that's settled, we should go. Places to be. Toads to punch. Thanks, Sev. Hat. I'll see you in a couple of days. Come on, Ronald," she said firmly, rising and heading for the door.
"Mira." She paused with her hand on the knob. "Fortune's favour."
She threw a grin over her shoulder, through the spot where the invisible Weasley was standing. "Fortune's fickle, but loaded dice? Those you can count on."
Cocky little bitch is going to get us all killed... Sev thought, deliberately projecting it so she'd definitely catch it.
She pretended she hadn't, waiting until she was at the very edge of his range to think back, Love you, too, Sev. (That was really the only way to get the last word with that man.)