DISCLAIMER: The amount of money I make off of this is equal to the number of times Hermione has said, "Books are for losers."
A/N: Helloooooo! Yes, I am uploading again so soon after the last one. I just love writing and this story needs some more chapters under its belt. Also, in case there was any confusion about the cover art, Time-Travel is an aspect of this fic, but this is not a Time-Travel fic. Don't worry, all will be explained…eventually (evil laugh).
Please feel free to review. I need all the help I can get, as this is my first fanfic, which makes you my first readers…yay you, I guess.
OoOoO
Cass was getting very annoyed. As she sat up in her Thoughtful Tree, watching the sunset, she fumed. Who was sending all of these letters? Why so, so, so many of them? Cass could understand sending first one, maybe even laugh a little. It was a good prank. But the next twenty? Over the next few days? Who had the time—and the motivation—to send letter after letter about a fake school?
It was like they were mocking her, baiting her. Her grandpa could use some magic right now, and then magic letters show up. Who was so cruel? Cass's eyes smarted painfully, in a way she had come to dread over the last few months. The way they always did when something…odd was about to happen.
Cass's eyes widened. Quick as a flash, she grabbed the branch above her head with both hands, bracing herself. The branch she had been sitting on broke with a loud CRACK and tumbled down the tree, all forty feet. Cass winced each time it hit another tree branch before finally crashing to the ground.
Cass dangled on the branch for a second, her breathing labored. Gingerly, she placed her foot on a limb down and to her left. Cass pushed it a little, testing its stability. Seeing it fit for her weight, Cass sat down on it.
How had she done that? Cass had Seen the tree falling before it happened. Cass shook her head, scowling. No, you didn't. You just have good instincts. That is it, she told to herself firmly. Cass's arms were shaking, either from exertion or fear—or most likely both.
Cass peered through the living room window. She could see her grandma sitting in her rocking chair, knitting. Thank goodness she didn't notice. She didn't even want to think about the yelling fit that would have ensued if Grandma had noticed. Cass looked down at the broken branch and sighed; she was going to have to climb down, move the tree limb, and them climb back up. Muttering grumpily under her breath, Cass started her descent, carefully placing her feet on branches only after they had been tested.
About six feet from the ground, Cass jumped the rest of the way down, landing with a soft thud. Grabbing the incredibly thick branch, Cass heaved it towards the street, where the bin man could pick it up. Amr shaking with effort, she finally got it close enough to the street and dropped it, thinking it was the bin man's problem now.
As Cass walked back around the house, she was startled to see a woman in green…were those robes? The woman wore her hair in a bun and, even from several meters away, Cass saw that it was very tight. The woman also appeared to be older, maybe a little younger than her grandparents. And she was walking towards the front door!
She bolted across the yard, yanked open the back door, and ran to the foyer.
"What is it, Cass? You know you need to be quiet, your grandfather is sleeping!" Grandma Joyce reprimanded, her voice stern.
"I saw a strange lady walking up to the front door!" Cass exclaimed.
"What, dear? You'll have to slow down," replied her grandma, putting down her knitting needle.
"I—" Cass was cut off by the doorbell ringing. She dashed to the door, ignoring her grandma hissing, "Cass! You don't open the door for strangers!"
Cass opened the door slowly, peering through the crack between the door and the doorframe. The woman from before greeted her. Up close, Cass could see that the woman had graying, black hair and a very stern look about her. Cass's immediate thought was this was not someone you want to cross.
"Hello, I'm Professor McGonagall. May I come in?" The woman spoke with a faint Scottish accent, and she looked at Cass with some emotion that Cass couldn't place. Cass didn't miss the professor bit, either. First letters about a magic school, then a professor in robes? Either this was a very elaborate prank, or…Cass stopped that train of thought.
Realizing the woman was waiting for an answer, Cass gave her one. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I can't let you in. I am afraid I don't know you or your intentions." It was then that Cass's grandmother came to the door.
"Who are you?" Grandma Joyce asked firmly, but not exactly rudely.
Professor McGonagall turned to Cass's grandma and replied, "Good afternoon. My name is Minerva McGonagall. I am here to talk to you about Ms. Cassandra's possible enrollment of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Cass's mouth fell open. The professor continued, "This is very difficult to explain, so may I come in?"
Grandma Joyce was looking at Professor McGonagall through narrowed eyes, but, for whatever reason, she let her through the threshold.
"Cass, could you go make some tea for our…guest? And wake your grandfather, dear. Lord knows he won't want to miss this," said Cass's grandma, leading Professor McGonagall to the living room.
Cass rushed to the kitchen and turned on the stove, hastily pouring water in the kettle and slamming it onto the burner, splashing droplets of water out of the hastily closed lid. She then bolted to her grandparents' room and gently opened the door. Walking over to Grandpa Jimmy's side of the bed, Cass prodded her grandfather softly. His eyes flew open.
"Hey, kiddo. What is it?" he croaked, beaming at her.
Cass smiled back before saying, "There is a professor here, claiming to represent Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Her grandpa's eyebrows rose. "Witchcraft and wizardry, eh?" Cass nodded, just as skeptical as Grandpa Jimmy. "Okay, I'll be right out."
Cass left the room, not oblivious to her grandpa grimacing as he stretched. Magic could help him. Despite Cass's previous refusals to believe in magic, she was hoping against hope that magic was real and could help her grandfather.
In the kitchen, the kettle whistled. Taking the tray from the top of the cabinets, Cass placed teacups, plates, milk, sugar and some cakes before mixing the tea and adding that to the tray as well. Then, she picked up the tray and carried it to the living room, where her grandma and Professor McGonagall were now sitting.
"Ah, thank you very much, Cass," her grandma said warmly after Cass placed the tray on a small table. Professor McGonagall gave her thanks as well.
Everyone prepared their tea while they waited for Grandpa Jimmy to arrive. Finally, after what Cass had deemed an eternity, he came into the living room.
Professor McGonagall stood to shake his hand. "Hello, you must be Ms. Cassandra's grandfather. I'm Minerva McGonagall, representative of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, here to explain some things about magic."
Cass could tell her grandpa was very unnerved and skeptical of that introduction, but he said, "Please to meet you. My name is Jimmy McGarther. Representative of 94 Seere Lane." Cass was amused by her grandfather's humor, but stayed silent during the exchange.
Professor McGonagall's face didn't divert from its stern placement, but she looked appraisingly at Grandpa Jimmy. "I'm just going to be blunt about it; magic is real," the professor said, this time looking at Cass, gauging her reaction. Cass only raised her eyebrows, but inside, her mind was racing. Magic, real? Oddly enough, Cass believed her.
It was Cass's grandma that spoke next. "You'll have to forgive me for asking, but could you show us some proof that magic is real? I just have trouble believing that magic has been kept secret from the public." Grandma Joyce said this rather smugly, as if calling someone's bluff.
Professor McGonagall looked as if she had expected that. "Certainly," she replied. The professor took out a brown stick with an intricate handle from her robes and waved it at an empty teacup. All three McGarthers watched with wide eyes as the teacup turned into a red ball. They each had an identical expression of shock on their faces, but Cass's shock came not from the magic, but the stick it was performed with. She thought back to her dream from a couple nights ago, the one with the boy and the hooded figures. The boy, whose face she hadn't seen, had used a stick similar to the professor's. How could I have known? Cass thought questioningly.
Professor McGonagall just smiled kindly at Cass, her eyes full of emotion again. What is that about? That emotion? Cass's grandparents—and Cass, too, for that matter—were still gob smacked. Professor McGonagall merely continued explaining, "Hogwarts is a school for young witches and wizards. They are sent there to train and learn to control their magic." Cass gave a jolt; the letters had been addressed to Cass, Professor McGonagall said she had come for Cass's enrollment. The pieces clicked and understanding dawned on Cass. Professor McGonagall watched her figure out and confirmed it for Cass, speaking gently. "Ms. Cassandra, you are a witch."
Silence reigned in the room. Cass's grandma clutched her heart, her mouth in a small 'o'. Grandpa Jimmy just stared at Cass in shock, his mouth also in an 'O' shape. Cass looked at the ground, her mind blank. Through the blankness, a word floated around. Witch. Cass was a witch.
Professor McGonagall pretended not to notice the McGarthers' silence and sipped her tea, waiting for one of them to speak. It was Cass who did.
"That explains it," she muttered. Those three words pulled Grandma Joyce out of her stupor, and she looked at Cass with surprise and questions on her face. Professor McGonagall looked at Cass with curiosity, but didn't seem completely flabbergasted Cass had known about magic, unlike her now-gaping grandparents.
"What do you mean, Cass, dear? What do you mean 'that explains it?'" Grandma Joyce asked, turning away from the professor and looking at Cass.
Cass glanced at Professor McGonagall before looking towards her grandmother. "Well, er…I can…um…" Cass trailed off, at a loss for how to explain what had happened with the tree branch—and the countless other times before it. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I can…sort of…know what is going to happen. Before it happens. Not all the time. Just…sometimes."
It was Professor McGonagall's turn to look shocked, something that was not lost to Cass. Wait, is that not normal? Cass must have said it out loud, because Professor McGonagall replied.
"It is not unheard of," the professor replied. But, yes, not normal, Cass finished in her head.
Grandpa Jimmy finally spoke, his voice shaking. "Cass, you mean to tell me that you knew about magic?" Cass thought she could detect hurt in his voice and she immediately felt guilty.
"No! I didn't know about magic! I just thought I had good instincts," Cass paused, debating on whether to share what happened with the tree. She decided to anyway, maybe it'll help them understand. "I mean, something happened earlier today, with the tree…" Cass shot an apologetic look towards her grandma, then continued, " I was sitting on a branch when I Saw the branch break before it actually did, so I grabbed a branch above me, just managing to hang on. I—uh… I just thought it was good instincts, that something had tipped me off about the branch breaking, so…" Cass trailed off, discouraged by the look of awe on everyone's, including the professor's, face.
Professor McGonagall recovered, shaking her head as if to clear it. "That is really impressive, Ms. Cassandra. Not many people can do that, and it is a mark of a very powerful Seer—and witch—that you can."
"Now, I must explain some key things," Professor McGonagall continued with her mission, as if nothing had happened. "Ms. Cassandra will attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—that is, with your permission," she added with a nod towards Cass's grandparents, who were now paying rapt attention. "She will start just over three weeks from now, on September 1st. If I may, I will escort her to Diagon Alley—that is a main shopping center of the wizarding world—where we will get all her school supplies, as well as her wand."
Grandpa Jimmy interrupted with a question. "Why can't we escort Cass? And what is a wand?" Cass thought she knew what a wand was, but didn't speak, waiting for Professor McGonagall's answer.
"Muggles—that is, people without magic—cannot see much of the wizarding world. However, if you wish to come with us, I can arrange for methods that which allow you to see magic—more than the Transfiguration I displayed." Cass doubted her grandpa could take a magical alley, but she kept that to herself. Almost immediately after that thought, Cass felt ashamed. Her grandfather didn't deserve that kind of thinking from her. Shoving those feelings away, she listened to Professor McGonagall explain what a wand was.
"A wand is a device used to channel a witch's or wizard's magic. Each wand is different, just as each person is different." Professor McGonagall took her wand out again, showing it to Cass and then Cass's grandparents. "This is my wand. When Ms. Cassandra goes to Diagon Alley, she will get a wand that suits her."
Cass suddenly had a thought. She quickly asked the professor, "Professor, if I'm a witch, does that mean my parents were magical? Is there a way to find them?" Cass didn't know why she was so curious about her parents, as they had abandoned her, but she felt she needed to know.
Professor McGonagall's expression turned from a lecturing one that hid a million emotions—sad ones, mostly, but there was also guilt mixed in there. Cass filed that away for later examination. "Your parents might have been magical. However, sometimes a witch—or wizard—is born from non-magical people," answered the professor.
"Muggles," Cass said, recalling the term Professor McGonagall had used before.
Professor McGonagall nodded. "These witches and wizards are called Muggle-borns."
Grandma Joyce asked, "Are there many of these…Muggle-borns?"
The professor nodded. "There are quite a few." Cass was relieved. She might not be a muggle-born, but she was Muggle-raised, so Cass was glad she wasn't going to be alone. Her grandparents looked relieved, too.
"How will Cass be getting to this school? Surely there isn't a road leading to a magical school? Speaking of which, where is this school?" Grandma Joyce asked the professor.
"There is a train—the Hogwarts Express—that will take all of the students to school. You are right, there is not a road that leads to Hogwarts; in fact, there is not a train track, either. The students are dropped off in a village near Hogwarts called Hogsmeade. From there, carriages take most of the children to the school. However, first-years take boats to the school, so as to see the school properly their first time.
"Hogwarts exact location is a secret. It is Unplottable, which means it does not show up on any maps, magical or otherwise. It is somewhere in Northern Scotland, though."
Cass thought of another question to ask. "Professor, what kind of classes will I take? What kind of supplies will I need?"
Professor McGonagall looked at her crossly. "Ms. Cassandra, have you looked at your letter? I believe it gives you a list of supplies." Cass's face took on a look of contrition.
"Letter? What letter, Cass?" Grandpa Jimmy asked.
"Er…well, I got a letter from Hogwarts. Several letters in fa—"
"You got a letter from this school and you didn't tell us!" screeched Cass's grandmother.
Cass winced. "Let me explain, please! I read it and thought it was a prank! I didn't want to believe in magic! I didn't want to believe in it and get my hopes up! Because magic can save Grandpa!" Cass turned to the professor, a pleading look in her eyes. "Right?"
Professor McGonagall looked very sad and shocked. Cass's grandparents, especially her grandma, looked guilty. Apparently, they hadn't known what Cass was feeling.
"I don't know what is wrong with your grandfather, Ms. Cassandra. But I need to tell you that magic cannot fix everything," Professor McGonagall said in her most gentle voice, which, surprisingly for the stern woman, was very gentle.
Cass sighed. Grandpa…
Cass's grandparents looked very sad. Her grandpa was surprised, as well. They had told Cass that he was sick, but not in too much detail. That Cass had jumped to the—unfortunately—right conclusion was impressive, no matter how heartbreaking that conclusion was.
Professor McGonagall stayed silent for a while, giving the family time to compose themselves. When they had, she said, "To answer your question, Ms. Cassandra, the classes you will be taking are Charms, Transfigurations, Herbology, Astronomy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, and Potions. Starting in your third year, you can take electives like Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. The supplies you will need are included in your letter."
Professor McGonagall looked outside; it was well past sunset. She said, "Well, I think it is best I go. I can take you to Diagon Alley to get your things on the fourteenth of August."
Cass nodded and replied, "I'll—er—escort you out, Professor." She led Professor McGonagall to the door. "Have a good night, Professor McGonagall. Thanks for everything." Despite the somewhat negative end of the conversation, Cass was excited. She was a witch! She could do magic!
Professor McGonagall gave Cass a rare smile. "You have a good night as well, Ms. Cassandra. I'll be over on the fourteenth." Cass smiled back and watched as the professor walked down the sidewalk. Then, to Cass's amazement and wonder, Professor McGonagall disappeared into thin air with a pop! Cass's mouth fell open for the…how many times was that…tonight.
Now, time for some experiments, Cass thought, wondering exactly what being a witch entailed.
OoOoO
"Cockroach Cluster!"
Minerva McGonagall watched as the statue sprang back and allowed her passage to the Headmaster's office. She climbed the stairs and, upon reaching the top, knocked on the door.
"Come in!" came the cheery voice of Albus Dumbledore. McGonagall walked in, finding Snape already there. The Potions Master looked up at McGonagall in anticipation of her news. Dumbledore looked interested, too.
"Well, Deputy Headmistress? Tell us how it went," said Snape, somehow managing to look down his greasy nose at her even in his chair.
"Ms. Cassandra now knows she is a witch. I have arranged to take her to get her supplies and wand on the fourteenth," McGonagall replied curtly. "It looks like she grew up in a very loving and caring home," she added quietly, knowing they would want to know.
Dumbledore smiled and clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Thank you, Minerva. If that is all…?" Dumbledore trailed off because of the look on McGonagall's face. "Minerva, what is it?"
Snape leaned forward in his chair, eyes flashing at McGonagall.
"Well," McGonagall began, "Ms. Cassandra mentioned something very unusual." McGonagall looked Dumbledore straight in the eye. "Albus, I believe she is a Seer."
Snape scoffed. "The ability doesn't manifest that early, Deputy Headmistress."
Dumbledore just looked thoughtful. "What did she say, Minerva?" McGonagall explained how Cass had saved herself from falling from the tree. While Snape remained skeptical, Dumbledore looked surprised. It was very odd indeed for one so young to display any Seer abilities, one of the reasons Divination was only open to third-years and up.
"This doesn't change anything. Remember: you must not let them learn the truth. If Voldemort finds out…" Dumbledore trailed off. At this, Snape nodded. McGonagall, however, scowled.
"It was wrong what you did, Albus. And it is wrong of us to keep it from them," McGonagall voiced quietly.
"I know," replied a heartbroken and guilt-ridden Dumbledore. "But the alternative was—and is—so much worse."
OoOoO
