"...And so in conclusion, Transfiguration is the act of binding and manipulating conceptual relations, rather than the concepts themselves." I finished speaking, before leaning back in the wooden library chair and sighing. Well that was that done, at least.
"Potter? What are you doing?" I paused, glancing up to follow the familiar voice breaking into my repose, only to smile when I recognized its owner.
"Gremory, Himejima, " I greeted, nodding to the two in turn. "What brings you to the library?" I asked gesturing around. Hogwarts's library was mostly empty at the moment, it still being early enough in the school year that students weren't scrambling to complete projects, but past the first few days of last minute summer homework. The two girls, each with a stack of books in their hands, exchanged glances, before Rias sighed and sat down at my table, earning a bemused glance from me.
"We've been doing personal research," The redhead answers quietly as she tapped the title of her stack's topmost book. Glancing at it, a history book of some kind, I made a small noise of understanding. Of course, they were trying to learn more about the Wizarding World so they could fit in. That made sense. I was distracted, however, when she continued, "But that's not important. You didn't answer my question." I cocked an eyebrow at the assertion, but didn't argue it. instead I waved vaguely at the paper in front of me, and the floating quill rapidly scratching out the words I had been dictating before being interrupted.
"Just homework." I said, smirking when Rias's eyes narrowed, even as Akeno-who had taken her own seat on my other side-scoffed.
"Looks to me like you're being rather lazy about it." The dark-haired devil stated, her own cruel smirk growing as she leaned over the table to gaze at my work, but I just shrugged.
"Have you seen the stack of homework we've got?" I asked rhetorically, the words turning her smile into a grimace as I continued. "Not even the end of the week, and we've got three full essays, plus supplemental research for the next class. The Dicta-quill saves me time, keeps the writing neat and orderly throughout, and prevents wrecking my hands with cramps from hours of writing. We're being graded on our comprehension of the subject, not the quality of our cursive." Honestly, I never understood why canon Harry never got one for himself, the things were bloody useful when writing long documents and anything without esoteric alphabets. Even note-keeping was easier if you let it just copy down the lecture, not that I kept notes usually. They were useless to me in my old life and got lost anyways, so I didn't expect this one to be any different.
"Oh?" Akeno asked with a light humming, eyes glowing with mirth. "And what will you be using those hands for instead?" Slowly, her eyes trailed down to the appendages in question, which were laying on the arms of my chair casually. I blinked, a dark corner of my brain processing the words and grinning sharply, before suddenly I grabbed up the dicta-quill-it was almost done anyways-and threw it to crash right into the dark-haired girl's none. She reared back with a surprised sound, unharmed but still shocked by the sudden assault.
"I told you to stop that," I said calmly, crossing my arms and staring hard at the girl as she tried to throw me an indignant glare. "Control yourself, lest you be controlled."
"I do believe that's my job," Rias interrupted from where she was watching before Akeno could respond, amusement dancing through her green-blue eyes. A small smirk played at her lips as she eyed me, so I just shrugged.
"As long as someone does it." Seriously, it was fucking creepy to have an eleven year old girl trying to throw innuendos at me, even if she looked a few years older. I hadn't even hit puberty yet with this body, and we were both way too young physically. Sighing, I looked back down at the table, where my reference books and scattered papers still lay, then at one of the myriad clocks scattered across the library. Sighing again, I stood starting to collect everything. "Come on, we've got our first potions class soon. Don't want to be late."
Rias blinked in surprise, before glancing at the same clock I had with eyes going wide. A moment later, she was collecting her own books, and Akeno followed suit, albeit while throwing a sharp glare my way as she rubbed her nose where the dicta-quill had struck. I returned the look steadily, before a spark of mischievousness overtook me. Quicker than a blink I smiled, before sticking my tongue out teasingly. There was a pause as the devil stared, eyes wide, and then she started to growl, the sound deep and low in the back of her throat. When her hands started to spark just slightly, I did the smart thing; I turned and ran, cackling like a maniac the whole while. I couldn't help but smile as she gave chase, ducking a burst of sparks.
Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to tease the girl. Ah well, I always was a hard way kind of kid. At least I would get to class faster if I was sprinting ahead of a raging devil.
XXX
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making." Snape said, dark and beady eyes flicking over the classroom, pausing upon each face for only a fraction of a second before continuing on. "As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe it is magic. However, I can teach you to Bewitch the mind, ensnare the senses, bottle fame, brew glory, or even stopper death. That is, if you aren't all as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." He smiled cruelly then, and I had to stifle a giggle. Gods, but the man was too dramatic. It didn't suit him well.
The classroom, if it could really be called such, was much as I imagined it, a clearly re-purposed dungeon several floors below ground level and hewn from rough stone, drafty enough the cold could wake the dead. Scattered around were a couple dozen students, all wearing gold or blue-laced robes, and all listening eagerly as typical Ravenclaw thirsts for knowledge and Hufflepuff dedication shone through. It was a shame, really, that Professor Snape must have used the same exact speech on all his other classes, and yet they didn't recognize its rehearsed nature. He didn't deserve the attention he got, at all.
Eventually, Snape moved onto taking roll, and I found myself itching as each name grew closer to my own. This, I had to admit, was one of those few moments that stuck with me, even amidst the myriad forms a story could take when fanfiction got involved. I had spent weeks, months even, planning for this. I just had to hope the man would play along.
"Ah, Potter," Snape said eventually, for the first time turning his eyes to me. "Our new celebrity." Pausing I cocked an eyebrow in surprise. That wasn't venom in his voice, not entirely at least, and I took a moment to examine Snape even as he paused eyes were dark, of course, but dark with confusion, curiosity, and a dozen other emotions, none of which came within spitting distance of the disdain I might have expected. Was it the gold on my robes, I wondered, that gave him pause? Or was it the years I had already spent in public view, acting quite unlike either my supposed mother or father might have? Regardless, I shoved those thoughts away as he finally continued, watching me carefully all the while. "Tell me, Mr. Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" He asked, just as expected. As a beat of silence passed, I had to fight to keep the grin off my face.
"Well a thank you, for one." I replied, tilting my head towards him. It was sincere, even, as for all that I cared little about Lily and James Potter beyond an abstract sense, it did not change the meaning of Snape's own grief and attempt at amends. Still, I could not help the spark of amusement that rose inside me while the rest of the class descended into confused silence.
"Excuse me?" Snape asked after a moment, his lips turning thin as he narrowed his eyes at me. Ah, he likely thought I was mocking him. Instead, I just shrugged.
"'I regret the death of Lily Potter, no?'" I stated, tone making it clear I was quoting somebody. "My knowledge of flowers and their language is admittedly rusty-" as in non-existent beyond this specific example, "-but that should be correct. Though, while the sentiment is appreciated, perhaps class time is not the best time to express it?" Again, silence descended, and again I had to fight off a sharp smirk. The problem, I thought while examining Snapes panicked face, was that I had been extremely polite in my was mocking, of course-seriously, who used such vague and esoteric methods to get across a message to an eleven-year-old boy?-but he couldn't call me out on it when I sounded so innocent. When another beat passed in which no one else spoke, I eventually just sighed and shrugged. "Unless, of course, you meant an actual potion, in which case several come to mind, but the Draught of Living Death is most obvious. Not sure why you would be asking about a sixth-year potion though." And game, set, match.
"It… is always good to have ambition," Snape managed to say eventually, even as the rest of the class turned to look at him with undisguised curiosity. His voice was remarkably steady after the shock I gave him from not only recognizing his cute little message, but also calling him on it, even if the comeback was lacking. I had not, after all, mentioned the Draught's difficulty level by accident. Much like most of what I did, it served multiple purposes. The first, of course, was to reinforce my point about it being a hidden message, since obviously Snape wouldn't actually mean to quiz a first-year student on sixth-year material, but the second was to make the point that I had, in fact, recognized it. It wasn't even entirely due to the outside knowledge I possessed either. While my progress in potions was nowhere as good as other subjects, I had still maintained an even year-per-year ratio, and thus was about sixth-year level regardless. At least, according to Sirius and my textbooks, but Snape might have different ideas.
After another brief pause, Snape tore his gaze away from me and continued on with the roll-call, much to my disappointment. I had several other quips in mind, such as pointing out that a well-stocked potions classroom should have bezoars, but it looked like he wouldn't be giving me the chance. I must have shocked him more than I thought. Shrugging to myself, I let it go and allowed my mind to wander until he finished, actually starting the class.
"Your instructions are on the board" Professor Snape said, putting word to deed as he waved his wand and said instructions appeared. "Pair up-Not with someone from your own house-and get to work.I will be coming around to supervise and correct any blatant mistakes. After I understand your general skill level we will move onto the actual lecture." I blinked in surprise. That… actually made more sense than what he did in canon, simply assigning a potion and then homework afterwards. Admittedly the class was interrupted by Neville, but still. Maybe it was just because we're Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, instead of Slytherins and Gryffindors, that he gave a more direct explanation? Or was there something else I was missing? Unsure, I simply shrugged away the thoughts and started looking around the class. If it weren't for Snape's instructions-another suspicious change-I might try to grab Rias, but other than that I tended to just wait for someone to approach me in times like this. There wasn't anybody particularly noteworthy on the Ravenclaw side-
"Um, excuse me? Is it okay if we partner up?" A small, quiet voice asked from somewhere bleow my head level, making me look down and… well fuck, I thought. That was Illyasviel Von Einzbern tugging on my sleeve and looking up at me nervously, crimson eyes big, wide, and adorable. I'll admit, my first reaction was to look around for any possible escape-because fuck that with a rusted iron spork if I could help it, I wanted nothing to do with the Nasuverse elements of this world-but it was too late. Everyone else already had partners.. I wanted to say no regardless, but then I made the mistake of looking down and back into her face. Goddammit, I thought, my will crumbling as I realized just how adorable the kid was looking all nervous like that. I didn't know why she'd picked me for a partner, in particular, but I knew it wasn't an accident. Finally, I simply sighed and tried not to pinch my nose in annoyance.
"Yeah, sure, just let me clear a space." I said, before putting words to action and shoveling my book bag and pens out of the way. Yes, I had pens, don't I wasn't going to write with a fucking quill and wasn't willing to risk Snape's wrath on using a dictaquill for his , her expression shifting from nervous to thankful in an instant, let out a noise not unlike a squeal, and for a moment I thought the little white-haired girl was going to hug me. Thankfully, she refrained, simply moving all her potion equipment over as we started to get to work.
It wasn't a difficult potion, just a boil cure, and as several minutes passed I slowly lost the tension that had gathered in me upon realizing Illyasviel wanted me for a partner. Maybe it was nothing important, I thought. Maybe she just thought Harry Potter was cool and I could get away with a quick autograph after class and never have to deal with the bullshit that was the Nasuverse or Grail War. Then she opened her mouth, and all my dreams of a-relatively-peaceful life came crashing down.
"Why are you afraid of me?" Her voice wasn't accusatory. That's what caught my attention the most. Instead it was sad, almost despairing as I looked up to find those bright red eyes locked onto me, her hands still instead of chopping ingredients like she should be. Illya's expression was morose and plaintive, like a kid asking her parents why the other children bullied her. Pausing in my own task, I looked at her fully, even as my heart squeezed with guilt. Before I could say anything, however, she continued. "I saw you, at the Sorting Ceremony. When Professor McGonagall called my name, you were terrified. And… and in the other classes, you always avoid looking at me." And then there were tears in her eyes. Oh god.
"...It's not you, exactly. It's your family." I said eventually, features stony besides a slight grimace. Dammit, this sucked. I wasn't going to lie to the kid, prided myself on always telling the truth in fact, but potions class was not where I wanted to have a conversation about why, exactly, I wanted nothing to do with a fellow student who by all accounts seemed to be nothing more than a perfectly innocent and normal little girl, hair and eyes notwithstanding. Given that I still wasn't sure just which Illyasviel I was dealing with in the first place, let alone how that might be influenced by the other crossover elements, it was even worse.
"You-you know my family?" Illyasviel asked after a moment, confusion replacing sadness in her gaze and making my grimace deepen. "How?"
"Illyasviel von Einzbern, daughter of Irisviel von Einzbern and Kiritsugu Emiya, yes?" I asked instead of answering, getting a small, confused no. "Well you may not have realized it, but your father is probably at least as famous as me, if not more so." God, how do you explain to a kid that their father is actually an international assassin, who may or may not be destined to take part in a ritualistic murder-death-kill tournament that could very well end the world? It certainly didn't help that she looked even younger than the students around us, who I could at least consider as close to my physical age by sight.
"Papa? What's so special about him?" Illya asked, and oh, it hurt not to laugh at that. Poor Kiritsugu, for all that even the thought of the man filled me with primordial fear it was still hilarious to hear that question coming out of his daughter's mouth. She probably didn't mean it that way, but almost any father would be crushed by such thoughtless dismissal. Fighting back the smile that threatened my serious demeanor, I shrugged.
"That is… a question you'll have to ask him. Not my secret to tell, really, but suffice to say that I would be happier if he never knew I Emiya is not a man you want to get on the bad side of, and even his good side can be dangerous as well."
"Oh." Illya said, crumpling slightly as she realized I wouldn't say anymore. A beat of silenced passed as I returned to work, then another, before finally she spoke up again. "I-I guess I'll just leave you alone then."
Ow.
I stopped in my work again, glancing up to see that Illya's movements had suddenly become a lot more vicious. Despite that, however, her expression was once again one of sadness rather than anger, and heart-breakingly so as well. Sighing, I set down my tools and pushed them away.
"Illya, look at me." I said, for once forgoing the usual british tradition of addressing someone by their last name while still unfamiliar with them, and drawing her red eyes to look back up at me in shock. Sighing again, I fought the urge to pinch my nose at the sheer stupidity of what I was about to do. Dammit, I was supposed to be immune to little girls and their adorable charm. It never affected me in my last life… although that was probably because the only little girl I interacted with regularly was my sister, and there were a vast multitude of problems with that situation.
"Illya, do you want to be friends?" I asked finally. There was a moment of silence, or as close to it as possible, and then her eyes went wide and she smiled brightly, before jumping up with excitement. Unfortunately, the suddenness of the movement made her hit the table, which knocked several ingredients on it flying. I didn't bother noting what they were, exactly; I was too busy following their flight paths as they arced far higher than they should to land in not one, not two, but three different cauldrons surrounding our station. As the series of loud plops sounded, I had only a few moments to respond.
"Well, fuck." I muttered, before tackling Illya to the ground and marshalling my magic as well as I could.
Then everything turned white.
XXX
Because it's tradition to have something go wrong in the first Potions class of the year, and Illya, as a half homunculus, happens to be stronger than normal human beings, so she doesn't just shake the table. No, that's probably not canon, but consider it a part of the AU. It'll help keep her from being left behind as power levels increase, at least. Also more character development for Harry. He may be a sarcastic, know-it-all asshole most of the time, but there are moments where he breaks down and shows emotion. Only when people are sad and need comfort though.
Anyways, happy New Year's Eve, all! Let's hope it's a good one!