AN: sometimes you gotta stop overthinking things and just post.
In this chap:
what is dialogue and how do you write it? Scientists investigate this phenomenon.
More exploration of how the muggleborn kids are introduced to the magical world, plus thea (and harry) making more friends before hogwarts.
and then… THE SORTING! (dun dun duuuuuuuuun)
and i've changed some minor stuff from canon - Hogwarts only has robes required, no under-uniform like in the movies etc, so what you wear under them is personal choice. however purebloods tend to dress fancy, while muggleborns usually wear jeans and stuff.
plus the different houses have differently designed dorms from one another, kinda based on their expectations for how their house should act/what they value.
\On the thirtieth of August, Dorothea and Harry pick up their school trunks, summon the Knight Bus, and make their way to Kings Cross station. There, they and the other Muggleborn students are ushered into some sort of conference room for a stern-faced Professor McGonagall and a cheerful Professor Black to check over their supplies. Most of them are deemed suitable, though Hermione has packed too many books - "There's a library at Hogwarts, dear" - and Justin Finch-Fletchely has apparently not packed enough warm clothing - "You'll freeze as soon as winter hits, kid." Harry is told to tidy up his trunk. (Thea notes he's piled everything messily in the main compartment - it seems Harry didn't buy a proper magical one with pocket dimensions).
Professor McGonagall shows them the hidden entrance to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. They're all suitably impressed at the illusory brick wall, and Lily and Thea pop back and forth between the magical and non-magical sides with uncharacteristic glee. Professor McGonagall explains that it's normally closed to the public outside of the school term, but as Deputy Headmistress she has certain controls over the magic of Hogwarts, including the platform. Professor Black gives a short speech about what to expect at Hogwarts, and explains, briefly, about the prevalence of blood-based prejudices in magical society. Discrimination against Muggleborns, and against those with 'creature' blood. It dampens the mood a little, and they all leave feeling contemplative.
Harry and Thea are invited to go for lunch with the Grangers, which Thea happily accepts. She already told Mum and Dad they didn't know how long it would take and arranged to be home at three o'clock.
"I can't believe Professor McGonagall wouldn't let me bring my books," Hermione blusters, sounding far more angry at authority than Thea has ever heard. From their letters, it seemed like Hermione had a hero-worship thing going with most adults, especially teachers. For a girl who seems dedicated to learning everything, Thea isn't surprised.
"She-" Harry hesitates in the face of Hermione's enthusiasm, but continues, "She said there was a library at Hogwarts, right?"
"Professor McGonagall said, Harry, she's a teacher. And yes, there'll be so many books at Hogwarts!" Hermione brightens at the prospect.
"Oh, I hope I'm in Ravenclaw! What about you, Dorothea?"
"I'm not sure, maybe Slytherin or Hufflepuff?"
Thea's been thinking it over, and she's still uncertain. It really depends how they'll be sorted into their Houses. If there's some way to swing the test, Hufflepuff might be a safer bet - they're known for hard work and being generally normal and level-headed. And Thea remembers the discussion of blood prejudice and Death Eaters and the war that killed Harry's parents.
"Slytherin!?" squawks Harry, "But they're evil!"
What. Who has he been talking to?
"But Harry, that doesn't make any sense. Some of them are our age! I doubt you or Dorothea are capable of true evil, though you could probably manage malice."
Thank God for Hermione, the voice of reason.
Harry still looks conflicted.
"But Voldemort was in Slytherin."
Oh. Thea barely thinks about her Aunt and Uncle - she never knew them, and whenever Mum and Dad mentioned them it was always with disdain. But for Harry those are his parents. Bloody hell.
"But not everyone in Slytherin followed him. I bet there were Death Eaters from other Houses." Hermione always has a well-reasoned statement, it must be - hah - magic.
"And he's not there now." Thea adds. "Slytherin isn't inherently evil."
"Exactly," Hermione turns to Harry, "so, what House do you think you'll be in, then?"
"Mum and Dad were in Gryffindor, so I'd like to be there."
"That's lovely. I think you'd be a great fit there, Harry!."
Dorothea makes a face. "Oh yes, the brave Boy-Who-Lived, come to save us from the evil Slytherins."
Harry just throws his napkin at her, and they move on to discussing magical school subjects as the food arrives.
On the morning of September first, Thea wakes before dawn. She slept fitfully, disturbed by dreams of faceless crowds and a pervasive yet vague feeling of anxiety. As she gets ready for the day, the dread simply settles deep in her gut. Thea's never been away from home for more than a month before, and even then her family was nearby - house only a long car ride away, her parents contacted with a quick phone call.
Dudley's already started at Smeltings, their term beginning a week earlier, and her parents are withdrawn. There is no more baking with Mum or listening to music with Dad, just cold silences and painful loneliness.
Dad gives them a ride to King's Cross. He listens rigidly to the radio and snaps at both Dorothea and Harry when they try to speak. Thea almost wishes they'd taken the Knight Bus instead.
They arrive at 9:30, a full hour and a half early. Dad drives off before Thea can say more than 'bye', and she blinks back tears while Harry stands there like a lump.
They head towards a corner cafe for cornish pasties and tea, huddling together while strangers hurry across the station or down their morning coffee in various cafes. Lily arrives with Ms. Mohammed while they're waiting. Lily's dark hair is braided back, while Ms. Mohammed is wearing a shimmering indigo headscarf and they're both wearing some sort of over-robe? Tunic? Dress? Thea isn't sure - they're not made in the British magical style like the robes she bought in Diagon Alley - they're a squarer, lightweight garment with narrow sleeves and a wide border of ribbon down the front. They're beautiful and flowing and Dorothea is immediately envious.
Ms. Mohammed waits with them, while Thea, Lily and Harry drink their tea apprehensively. It's nearly time for the train. As the station clock strikes ten o'clock', Hermione and her mum arrive.
Dr. Granger and Ms. Mohammed see them off from outside the platform, and they all pass through the brick wall together, barely avoiding a messy collision as they try to wrangle heavy trolleys. Harry sets his owl free to fly to Hogwarts, while Lily cradles her kitten's carrier carefully.
The quartet choose a compartment in the middle of the train and settle in. Dorothea uses the end of her trunk to prop open the door and they keep an eye out for other people in their year, especially the other norm- Muggleborn kids. Thea has to keep reminding herself to use magical words and phrases, which come reluctantly to her tongue..
The compartment fills up. Hermione goes for a walk and returns pulling along a magical-born kid called Neville Longbottom. He looks surprised and awkward holding Hermione's hand, her dark brown skin contrasting his golden tan, and stutters his greeting.
Another magical-born kid asks to join them, and one of the other Muggleborns from Diagon Alley appears as well. After that, their compartment is beginning to get crowded, so they close the door and settle in for a long ride.
There's Thea, Harry, Lily, Hermione, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley and Dean Thomas.
They play regular, non-magical card games and get to know each other and chatter enthusiastically about Hogwarts. Dorothea feels a little out of place when confronted with everyone else's sheer enthusiasm about the magical (freakish, a voice whispers) school. Thea's still unsure about magic as a whole. She finds kinship with Neville, who's equally anxious about Hogwarts, if not for the same reasons.
Neville haltingly explains how his family thought he wasn't magical enough to go, which segues into a disconcerting discussion of blood prejudice. Professor Black had explained some of it during their Diagon Alley trip, and again at the station the other day, but Ron and Neville are less circumspect, talking about Death Eaters and You-Know-Who and the war. How normal people and Muggleborns were targeted, how even some 'pure-blood' families were wiped out. Ron is pale as he quietly talks about his uncles, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, who were killed for fighting against the Dark Lord.
Thea wonders how much of the magical war overlapped with the non-magical world. Are there magical people in the IRA? How much of Na Trioblóidí so far has been affected by magical society?
Her train of thought is interrupted as Ron finishes his story: "It was terrible, until Harry stopped him."
"What, really?" Thea's heard this part, and she's tired of the adoring way everyone looks at her weird cousin. It's unreasonable to think he could've somehow killed this magical terrorist guy as an eighteen-month old infant.
Dean chimes in.
"I thought this Voldy-guy was really powerful? Like a baby could stop him. I bet it was his parents or something."
"Well, that's what they say," concludes Ron.
Lily seems distracted by Neville's discussion of his family.
"Did your Uncle really dangle you out a window? That's horrible! My mum's a Squib, and her family didn't do anything like that. And she's still close with them - We always go over to theirs for Eid al-Fitr and stuff."
"Uh. Yeah, I guess."
"Nah, mate, Moon's right," Ron adds with conviction, "that was cruel and stupid of them. Non-magical people aren't less, you know? My Dad works for the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts department, he's always going on about the latest wonderful invention the Muggles have made. And they're your family - they should care about you even if you're different."
Before anyone else can speak, they're interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?" A friendly white woman asks, pushing a trolley absolutely loaded with magical sweets.
Thea can only afford a few chocolate frogs to go with her lunch (lamb sandwiches she made herself), same as Dean, the other Muggleborn kid, while Neville chooses a handful of Sugar Quills.
Harry buys out half the cart while the rest of them watch, wide-eyed. He's quick to share out his bounty, and a couple of the others pitch in as well.
Hermione only has normal, sugar-free mints - she complains that her parents insist on sugar-free everything, but she also buys some liquorice wands off the trolley. Ron pulls out some russian fudge his mum made and Lily flourishes a container of little dumpling-donut things called luqaimat, while Thea and Dean add their chocolate frogs to the pile.
They all tuck in happily.
Chocolate frogs bounce around, various home-made snacks are devoured, bright blue bubbles float around from Droobles Best Blowing Gum, and Ron introduces them to Bertie Botts every flavour beans. These are certainly freaky enough to disconcert Dorothea - they come in normal flavours like coconut, blueberry, and pear, as well as ridiculous ones like soap, or lentil, or pepper.
As the sun sinks towards the horizon, they change into their school robes and freshen up. Thea also slips into black slacks and a crisp white dress shirt. She wants to look neat even without her robes.
The train slows to a stop, and they all spill out into the night.
"First years, over here!"
Thea stares older students getting into horseless carriages while Lily drags her towards the voice. It belongs to an enormous man with impressive facial hair and coat made of some sort of animal hide, that clearly has a life of its own.
"I'm Hagrid, keeper of the Keys here. Nice to meet you all."
He ushers them down a narrow forest path, strung with lanterns. They reach the shore, laden with a collection of tiny rowboats, though the oars are nowhere to be seen.
"Alright, hop in. No more than four to a boat, o' course, for safety."
Thea gets into a boat with Lily, accompanied by two others. One is a pug-nosed girl with light skin and choppy dark hair, wearing a beautiful black skirt that flows like water underneath her robes, and the other a boy with pale skin and curly brown hair, who fiddles absently with the Star of David hanging around his neck. There's no time for introductions as the boats start moving across the lake.
Dorothea's first look at Hogwarts will stay with her forever. It's huge and elaborate, stone towers, spiralling bridges and expansive grounds visible off to the side. The many windows are lit with a welcoming glow, and as they step into the entrance, a loud roar of voices swells like the tide.
Professor McGonagall instructs the first years to straighten themselves up and make sure they're wearing their hats, eyeing Ron's smudged nose and Neville's cloak somehow fastened under his left ear.
The Sorting Hat sings a song, but Dorothea's barely paying attention to the words, too busy taking in the Great Hall. Four broad wooden tables, wall-hangings in the House colours, and countless students in school robes illuminated by flickering candles that float high above their heads.
Names are called out, alphabetical by last name. Dorothea barely has time to be apprehensive - 'Dursley' is early on in the list.
Thea squeezes Lily's hand for good luck and steps out of the crowd. She picks up the Sorting Hat delicately, eyeing the many patches and frayed edges. Mum would never allow something like this at Number Four. Thea places it lightly on her head, and nearly has a heart attack when a voice sounds in her head. It feels like soft, comforting cotton and carries an undertone of murmurs and movement, the background noise of a tailor's shop.
And it's talking to her!
Quite focussed on being 'normal', are you? But that's not the point of this, I suppose. Let's have a look, then…
Ooh, a good mind, definitely a passion for knowledge. You'd certainly make it in Ravenclaw, though if you want that knowledge for
personal gain, well, it might be a different story.
And yes, yes hard-working under all that arrogance - you could do well in Hufflepuff, they'll give you a core of steel, and I see you've considered it as an option. Good forward planning there.
Some serious ambition too, and a certain amount of ruthlessness.
Well, in that case… I encourage you to consider that normal is subjective in your new home in SLYTHERIN!
The Sorting Hat shouts the last word out to the whole hall, and Thea hears muffled cheers and clapping through the cloth of the Hat.
She slides the Hat off and walks slowly towards the cheering Slytherin table as the trim on her robes turns emerald green. She remembers Professor McGonagall's lecture from only minutes earlier - "your House is like your family" - and wonders how true that will be. Because Thea remembers Professor Black, under his breath, making some remark about how blood prejudice was the worst in Slytherin House. And she remembers Neville and Ron's faces on the train after discussing the war.
Dorothea is about to find out just how true all that is.
Thea sits in the centre of the table, nodding politely to the older students. There are only a handful of Slytherin first years right now - 'Bulstrode, Millicent', 'Crabbe, Vincent', and 'Davis, Tracey', Thea recalls.
Davis places her right hand on her forehead, palm out, and bows from waist.
"Well met. I'm Tracey Davis."
Dorothea can tell there's some aspect of magical society she's missing, but she's spent half her life lying to teachers and parents alike. She can bluff one kid her age, easy. And she wants to fit in with- No. Thea shoves that whisper to the back of her mind.
Thea mimics Davis' bow.
"Well met, Tracey Davis. I'm Dorothea Dursley."
This seems to be the correct reply, as everyone else nearby makes their own quiet introductions while the Sorting continues.
'Granger, Hermione' goes to Ravenclaw and immediately engages one of her yearmates in eager conversation about something, Thea can see the excited gesturing from the Slytherin table.
'Finch-Fletchley, Justin' and 'Longbottom, Neville', both go to Hufflepuff. Thea hopes whoever their Head of House is will do something about Neville's Uncle dropping him out of a window.
'Moon, Lillian', 'Potter, Harry' and 'Weasley, Ronald' all go to Gryffindor and are vigorously welcomed by a red-headed Prefect.
Harry's name causes a stir. Whispers break out throughout the hall, and Dorothea sighs almost in sync with several of her new Housemates. She's pleased to note that many of her fellow Slytherins look equally disgusted with the fuss.
She looks towards the teacher's table for a distraction. Hagrid is seated on the far left, then several other teachers that Thea doesn't recognise. Professor McGonagall is left of the centre, next a wizard with a voluminous white beard and eye-catching purple robes that can only be Headmaster Dumbledore. To Dumbledore's right are more teachers, but Thea's eye is drawn to the empty seat on the far right. Professor Black is absent - Is that his seat?
One of the older students sees her looking. Zie points to a pale skinned man with shoulder-length dark hair and a painfully neutral expression.
"That's Professor Snape. He's Head of Slytherin House and one of the youngest Potions Masters in Europe. Next to him, in the purple turban, is Professor Quirrel. Ravenclaw alumni and teacher for Defence against the Dark Arts. And that's Professor McGonagall, of course. Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House, and Transfiguration Professor."
"Isn't that a lot for one witch?" asks Dorothea, voicing something she's been wondering about almost since she met Professor McGonagall.
"Yes. Yes it is, firstie. Druids take him, Dumbledore's been blocking the School Board from hiring more staff for years. Always goes on about how 'he trusts Professor McGonagall with his life' and rot like that. As if trust has any bearing on one person's ability to manage three, very demanding positions. The old fool."
The student scoffs in derision.
Thea decides to ask her next most important question.
"Where's Professor Black, do you know? I was expecting to see him on my first day."
"Oh, are you two related or something? No, Professor Black's not here tonight. It's odd - he's usually punctual, and he attends every school function unless he's literally dying. Hey, Fawley" - zie turns - "you remember when Professor Black got Spattergroit and couldn't come to our match against Ravenclaw? He was so frustrated, I'd swear steam was coming out his ears."
"Yeah." Fawley laughs, "and then that Gryffin-"
Fawley cuts herself off as Headmaster Dumbledore stands up. His speech is odd - He goes on at length about banned objects, forbids them from the 'Forbidden Forest', whose name is enough to make Thea wary, and warns them not to go into some corridor because of the likelihood of 'a painful death'. What the hell? This is a school. Why is such a dangerous corridor allowed to exist, exactly? Mum is gonna be so mad when Thea tells h-. No. Mum's not going to be able to do anything about it, is she? Dorothea's on her own here.
Dumbledore also announces that 'Unfortunately, Professor Black has had to leave us for personal reasons. I'm sure he will be sorely missed by all of you. Due to difficulty sourcing staff, Alchemy lessons are temporarily suspended.' His eyes twinkle.
"Merlin's bal- .Merlin's bags, you'd think they'd do better than that. I heard he's a vampire now." comments a third year, cutting off what Dorothea suspects was magical profanity after a sharp look from an older Prefect.
"I heard Professor Black got married to a Mongolian sorceress and ran off to the Steppes to be with her forever," remarks a dreadlocked fifth year with a smirk.
"Oh, what about the 'he crossed the American Ministry and is in jail on the Continent' rumour? I liked that one," another fifth-year pitches in.
"Shut it, you lot," commands one of the seventh-year Prefects, his silver badge shining in the light. "Black is a decent Professor, stop talking crap about him."
"And hey, what about Alchemy classes?" someone else interjects.
"Yeah, I was looking forward to taking it this year. Isn't Dumbledore friends with the Flamels? Surely he could find us a substitute teacher?"
"Dumbledore's an Alchemist in his own right, actually," says Fawley, "he could teach it. Not that I'd want to learn from that Light-lover, but it's the principle of the matter."
This discussion fades as the Feast begins.
Dorothea's mind reels. She tucks into her food and looks around the table, getting a decent look at her yearmates.
A boy with a pointed face and hair almost as pale as his skin catches her eye.
"Who're you then?"
Rude. Thea bows with her hand palm-out on her forehead.
"Well met. I'm Dorothea Dursley."
The boy's eyes narrow.
"I don't know that name. Not a Mudblood, are you?"
Several people at the table wince, and Fawley whips around to glare at the boy.
Dorothea scowls. She may not know exactly what that means, but is was obviously an insult. Thea draws on the voice Rose's mum uses when someone implies she's a bad person for being a single mother, perfectly pitched to make the asker feel stupid for even considering such an idea.
"How dare you even say such a thing!?" Thea proclaims shrilly.
It has the desired reaction, stopping everyone in their tracks. The blond boy scowls back at her, then twitches as the girl next to him elbows him sharply in the gut.
"Well met, Dorothea Dursley. I'm Pansy Parkinson." she smiles, and Dorothea realises it's the same dark-haired girl from the boat ride across the lake. Dorothea grins and nods in greeting.
The blond boy is being quietly chewed out by Fawley, who Thea can now see is also wearing a silver Prefect's badge.
After the Feast, the first-year Slytherins are led down never-ending, twisting corridors and fathomless flights of stairs. Dark stone hallways are lit only by flickering torches which burn with flames that go from warm gold to emerald green as they walk deeper into the dungeons. The entrance to the common room is an unremarkable stretch of wall, decorated only with an oddly plain portrait of Salazar Slytherin, a simple full-body image of the wizard seated against a dull green background. Their current password is 'gloriam et imperium'.
The Slytherin welcoming speech is brisk.
"Welcome to Slytherin House. Professor Snape is our Head of House, you can go to him or any of the Prefects if you have problems. Be here at eight o'clock tomorrow morning for an escort down to the Great Hall. You can choose a room from any of the available ones, they're mixed gender until third year. Choose wisely. Now go to bed. Make friends and make our House proud."
Dorothea catches Parkinson's eye and the other witch nods. Then they're off. All the rooms are similar, but not identical - twin bedrooms with folding screens for privacy, each joined to the neighbouring room via a shared bathroom. Thea and Pansy choose the room at the end of the hall, with a window that shows the lake. The beds are fancy four-posters with canopies and the whole room is furnished with pale ash furniture and soft willow-green drapery.
Thea quickly nabs the corner bed, and sees her school trunk pop into existence beside it as she explores the rest of the room. A wardrobe and bedside table each, and a small table and two chairs to share. The bathroom is all white porcelain and copper accents, with two showers, two sinks, and a floor-to-ceiling, wall-length mirror along the back. Abstract snake mosaics decorate the other walls, and a side table is piled high with fluffy, beryl green towels.
Thea hangs her clothes in the wardrobe, organizes her school books and leaves her trunk empty to air out after being stuffed with esoteric potions ingredients and layers of robes. She yawns her way through brushing her teeth and donning pajamas, and barely mutters a 'good night' to Pansy before sleep claims them both.
End notes:
Sooo, Professor Black has mysteriously disappeared *gasp*. we'll find out what happened to him later on, but this is related to my interpretation of canon for this fic - dumbledore had an alchemy teacher so he figured the philosophers stone would be safe and extra protected, but now prof black has vanished and dumbles is low-key panicking about his protections for the stone, which is why he gets all the other teachers to contribute instead, creating the protections that harry and co. have to go through in canon.
also slytherins aren't inherently evil, an issue that has been discussed at length in this fandom, but something i wanted to have happen in chapter via dialogue as well. It's something that frustrates me about canon, especially if you consider that ostracising these kids is gonna just cause them to band together and adopt extremist beliefs sort of defensively - if the kids are indoctrinated you gotta kill facism with kindness (Though some of them are just dipshits who believe in blood purity, in which case definitely punch them).
You'll also notice Thea's relationship with her parents is disintegrating really quickly.
Petunia and Vernon's fear of magic is beginning to outweigh their love for Dorothea as more time passes and it becomes an unavoidable truth. Especially bcs a whole chunk of their relationship was because Thea and Dudley were a representation of 'normalcy' - a perfect family with two cute, abled kids with their acceptable stereotypical hobbies, living in a nice middle-class house. Now Petunia's having to deal with feelings of jealousy, cos her daughter is magical enough to attend Hogwarts when Petunia herself wasn't, as well as the usual fear and hatred of magic in general, while Vernon's in shock and covering for it by being stiff and silent and giving Thea the cold shoulder.
Whether Dudley is gonna go the same route is still up in the air.
At the start Lily and Ms Mohammed are both wearing abaya, traditional qatari women's clothing. The specific one I'm picturing is here: (in theory if uremove the brackets you'll get the link to work, just hates links) ((https)) /product/tulle-abaya/.
I'm thinking of retconning Ms. Mohammed's name to Ms. Al-Mohannadi to be more culturally accurate, based of this: ((https)) wiki/Al_Muhannadi
and another name site - ((https)) /surnames/al-mohannadi.
Again, constructive criticism and feedback is extra welcome!
other stuff:
Na Trioblóidí, or 'The Troubles' was a conflict in Northern Ireland from like, the 60s to the end of the 90s, sorta Catholicism vs Protestantism but more complicated (i think). If you're from the UK you probably know more about it than I do lol.
Also some validation for neville cos yikes.
That forehead/bow "well met" thing is shamelessly ripped off from The Worst Witch (netflix series), go watch it - its a bunch of twelve-year old witches making friends and getting into trouble and it's nice and light-hearted.
i'm still brainstorming a lot of stuff (e.g, neither of lily's parents have first names yet, random kids in thea's year are spontaneously appearing), and i'm just publishing chapters as i write them so be prepared for stuff to just randomly pop up and the characters to have retroactively known about it the whole time lmao