TITLE: Winds of Change

AUTHOR: firefox3211

~i don't own harry potter! the only people i own are my oc's!~

edited: 26/04/2020

Year of the Servant: Part One

Gwen had spent half the summer fuming and the other half contemplating revenge in the bathroom. Her brother, her painfully blind, optimistic brother, had hunted down their Uncle whilst Gwen had been away and she hadn't the heart to tell him why she never told him about it. The man himself looked pleasantly surprised with her lack of comment on his appearance, having gained at least three stone since Gwen saw him last.

They were sitting in her Uncle's living room, the soft light of day keeping the room bright instead of the bulb. Gwen flicked through the pages of a fiction book as the TV ran in the background. Her brother was glued to the screen and her Uncle was marking down the paper. They had arrived an hour ago and Alex was enjoying himself instead of being cooped up.

Her brother stood up from the TV abruptly, "I'm gonna get some food. Is there ham in the fridge, Uncle?"

The large man nodded, a soft smile on his face, "Of course! Let me know if you need anything."

Her brother practically flounced out of the room, her narrowed eyes following him before cutting back to her joyful Uncle. The living room door closed behind Alex and her Uncle's expression changed from joy to suspicion.

"Have you told him, Gwen?" he asked, voice accusing and Gwen scoffed.

"No," she said harshly, "I don't like you and you know why but never did I tell him. He still believes the story about Leo."

"When will you tell him?"

"Secondary school," Gwen said shortly, "I'll let him know about Leo, our mum and Nancy but I might not tell him about you. I'll decide when it comes to it."

Silence reigned through the room like a tyrant and they could both hear the puttering and pattering of Alex in the kitchen. Gwen sighed and turned the page, "He enjoys your company, he's happy with you. I'm not here half the year... he needs someone to lean on, to support him and help him through the rest of school. I can't do that through letters whilst balancing my own schoolwork."

"You want me to support him – does that include monetary support?"

"That's your choice," Gwen shrugged and closed the book, looking at her Uncle, "But he would appreciate it, I imagine."

OoO

The air was warm and breezy, the sun rising over the horizon and Gwen kicked off the ground. She pushed into the air, fingers curling around the chain on the swing with one hand. From behind her, the gate creaked open.

"You came."

Madeline walked through the park and slid on the swing. Her hair was cut short, the tips brushing her shoulders. She had changed.

Gwen kicked off the ground again, "Are they coming?"

Madeline shook her head and wrapped her hands around her ribs, the ends of the trainers hitting again the floor, "Well... after you left for your school, Laya moved house and school and well, Jason doesn't come around anymore."

"Why? We were still close last year."

"Jason and Laya tried to date and it didn't work – it didn't work at all and it ended pretty horribly. It was awkward, afterward, and we just drifted apart." Madeline shrugged, "Then Laya moved and Jason got some new friends."

"Oh." Gwen felt sadness well up inside of her and she blanked her face, "My year wasn't so dramatic."

Madeline laughed softly, "What happened?"

Gwen started at the beginning, leaving out the magic part, and twisted the story to fit what might have happened if it was a muggle school. She ignored the entire 'Chamber of Secrets', telling Madeline that a cat, only a cat, was attacked. She ended it with how an older girl had become friends with her, commenting little on the circumstances of the 'friendship'.

"Poor cat." Madeline murmured softly.

Gwen snorted, "Everybody hated the cat, and we hated it. It kept finding us when we went out at night and it trailed after everyone. Wretched thing."

"That bad?" Madeline asked. "Could've been worse, I didn't tell you how Lewis Dougal tried to fight a year 10?"

As Madeline launched into a story, Gwen tried to remember a better time when it wasn't two.

OoO

"I'll see you at Christmas then?" Alex looked up at her, blue eyes wide and pleading, "Please!"

Gwen shrugged and ruffled his hair. "I don't know. I'll tell you though."

Alex huffed in frustration. Gwen was too tired for this having been woken up at five that morning. Alex had been so happy though to see her go for the first time. He had never been here with her before – either waiting outside King's Cross or staying behind because nobody would take him and although she would never admit it, their Uncle was a help in their lives.

In a small act of affection, Gwen bent down and kissed the top of his head quickly. His face brightened immediately and when she boarded the train – her footsteps echoing throughout the place – she could still see him beaming brightly from where he stood.

The place was half-empty, unusually so and it unnerved her to an extent but it gave her a chance to take any compartment. Sliding down to the back of the train where she knew nobody would look; she pushed a compartment door open and heaved her trunk up.

She sighed as she collapsed on the seat. Gwen had forgotten how many thing she had packed. Digging through her carry bag, she scoured the leather cavern for something to do. A purple backed book with a neon green stick of colour poking out mid-way through. It was thick and it was exactly what she was looking for.

Fantasy done by wizards was trash, that was certain but it was a certain sort of trash that Gwen found herself reading – after taking off the backing.

As time trickled on, she could hear the noise levels steadily rising, and from a while away she heard the heavy footsteps of her peers.

"Can we sit in here?"

It was a chubby-faced second year, hair brown and curly, and Gwen remembered him as a Hufflepuff. Gwen shook her head, "No."

"But it's only you!" His friend snarled behind him, blonde pigtails bouncing angrily. Eyeing her trunk she pulled it down onto the opposite seat before sprawling herself across the other. She made a show of glancing around the room.

"Damn, guess there's no more room." She scoffed, "Sorry."

The pigtailed girl went to go into a rant but the curly-haired boy pulled her away murmuring something about it 'not being worth it'. Making sure that they were truly gone, she pushed the trunk back up, pulling herself from across the seat and leaned her book on her knees with her head brushing the window.

Time passed and the noise increased to the common pitch of September 1st that she knew and Gwen guessed that the train would pull out of the station soon enough. Her brother would be long gone by now, she thought, and where would he be? He had come early to both go to school, albeit a tad late, and out of sheer excitement. Did he not go at all? Gwen would have done it, at that age, with no parental control. He better not be getting caught if he did.

The compartment door opened again and by all the god's in the Greek pantheon-

"You have quite a lot of nargles around you, did you know?"

Ah. This girl.

Gwen might have been socially deaf for most of her time at Hogwarts – excluding the small amount of time she had spent under Melaia Rowle – but she had known about the exclusive Luna Lovegood and her absolute batshit behavior.

Luna Lovegood was a wispy, blonde-haired girl and Gwen would not hesitate to compare her to an absent-minded fairy. She walked into the compartment with not a care in the world, "My friend is very lonely. Do you mind if she sits here? Thank you."

Nobody had ever spoken as fast as Hermione Granger and yet here was Lovegood beating her out by a mile and three-quarters. Gwen blinked.

"...alright."

OoO

Gwen didn't keep up with the news, but she knew about the escaped prisoner Sirius Black. She knew he had killed muggles in broad daylight and had served You-Know-Who had his right-hand. She didn't know that they had sent dementors to search the train.

She had read little on them, only covering the meager facts that every wizarding-raised child knew. That they guarded Azkaban and fed on fear but she had never expected them to be this bad. People went insane in Azkaban quickly and now she knew why.

Gwen was sitting slumped beside Ginny Weasley – who wasn't quite bad for a Gryffindor and would have made an exceptional Slytherin had she been given the chance – with the most Gryffindorish Gryffindors to ever walk this earth. It would be severely uncomfortable if they weren't all shaking from the aftermath.

The shabbily-dressed man had handed them chocolate, which had helped, but it hadn't erased the words that were etched in her brain.

("gwen, you'll take care of him, won't you? for me...i know that... i haven't... but please.")

Ginny's brother – they had actually become fast friends, weirdly enough, merlin bless Luna that insane girl – had noticed her by now, "You're a Slytherin."

"Oh come off it Ron, Gwen isn't that bad," Ginny scoffed still pale but not shaking as much anymore.

They bickered over her, Ginny in her corner and Weasley stubbornly against. Gwen only tightened her hold on the chocolate in her hand as it melted over her fingers. Granger joined in, hair bushy but a tad less so this year, "She helped us in first year, Ron! Give her some peace."

Potter, paler than death and shaking so so badly, interrupted them a while later. The leader of the trio, the one who had the final word on anything but still willing to consider what his friends though, a sharp contrast to Malfoy, "I know she's a Slytherin Ron but she won't cause trouble, right?"

His green eyes met hers and they seemed, sharp in a dull way. Gwen, half-absorbed in the past, only nodded numbly, still stuck on the would've been and the what-ifs of previous years to really focus.

Gwen felt for her bag, for the book, and pulled it out. The neon bookmark still in the place she had left it. She would deny her fingers shook as she read it, that she hadn't been merely scanning the words and turning the pages but had been reading quite happily even if she couldn't tell you anything about chapter fifteen.

OoO

Gwen arrived at the welcoming feast alone.

Malfoy leaned over the wooden table to talk to her, eagerness plastered across her face, "Did you hear-"

"Yes, I did." She snapped, nails digging into her palms beneath the table, "Half the school has at this point."

He laughed smugly, the rest of them following like it was a cue, "It's hilarious, right?"

Gwen stared at him, eyes cold. Malfoy's laughter dimmed down and he smirked lopsidedly, "What, did the mean nasty dementors get to you too?"

Gritting her teeth bitterly, "I bet that you almost pissed your pants when they came around. Do you need daddy to get you a new pair?"

His face darkened, a scowl twisting harshly on his face. He was different this year, less childish or perhaps his parents had gotten some sense into him (unlikely) or perhaps it was that his father had been sacked off the Board of Governors and thus he had wound on his pride.

Melaia Rowle smirked down at her and Gwen felt a slice of pride form inside her.

OoO

Gwen was scribbling down an outline for her Arithmancy homework beside Malfoy as he fiddled with his sling. In the common room, he at least gave up the pretense but the sling was constantly there and professionally done so he was left with only an arm to work with. The common room was half-empty and people were still pouring in from class.

She had been cold to him at the feast, refusing to stay in his company and shifting down into the silent pair that were Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini at the edge of the year group but afterward he had sought her out, like a fly to honey despite her being vinegar.

Gwen tried not to dwell on it, on how despite her best efforts he still came seeking her out. It worked in second year and he had left her company much more often by June's end.

She remembered something, "Are you going to play in the Quidditch match?"

"Of course not." He scoffed arrogantly. "I can't play with an injured arm anyway."

"Worried Potter will beat you again?" she asked snidely, crossing out a calculation.

Malfoy stayed silent, hands running along the sling. He bit his lip, his mouth twitching down into a frown, "Flint says no, anyway. I don't think he wants to lose again."

Sighing at the statement, Gwen tried to give some emotional support, "I think you're good anyway. Better than Higgs, anyway."

"Really?" he asked, eyebrows rising and he looked pleasantly surprised in a non-pretentious way. He had grown up – a slight but a slight is a slight regardless – since the summer and his voice no longer drove her up the wall with its pitch.

Gwen shrugged, dipping her quill into the inkwell with half a care, "I suppose."

OoO

Sliding the books across the shelf, Gwen put the books onto the shelf. The thick sludge in the cauldron bubbled slowly, giving off a pungent smell that had Gwen scrunching her nose in disgust. The end result would most likely smell no better and taste even worse.

Outside, the sun was rising and the early risers were, well, rising but Gwen had gotten up when it was still dark outside and slipped out of the dorms. Sat on the chair were her books for the day, parchment and ink. In a drawer in the Room were spare essentials and her bag was sagging sadly in the corner.

She had dumped it there, containing the books from last year – not Lockhart's – and her own for the day. The year had begun to truly commence and as the first DADA lesson approached Gwen hoped to whatever gods were out there that the Professor wasn't a disaster like the other two.

From what she had seen of the Professor, he looked shabby with old robes and lines on his face. Grey streaked through his hair but he looked as if he should've been thirty instead of forty with old eyes.

She had received a letter from Alex about his class and how damn spiteful the teachers were which he still tried to blame on her. The teachers had loved her, with one exception but she hated everyone, and Gwen thought that it was less of them like him and more of him not being here.

He had also asked about their mum again, as he had been for the past few years, and Gwen had once again declined and told him to wait until summer and then she would tell him. It was a painful topic, despite Gwen having very few memories of their mother and even less of her death, but she could remember the scent of disinfectant as she sat in the soft blue chair. The red blood that stained the gloves and the sweat that still dried on her mum's forehead.

Was it emotional scarring? Yes, it was. Would Gwen ever acknowledge that fact out loud? No, probably not.

A bubble in the potion popped loudly and Gwen flinched, dragged out of her thoughts abruptly. Turning quickly to stop the potion overheating, Gwen flipped the page of brewing instructions to the next page and began.

OoO

"There'll be no need for your books today. We'll be doing a practical lesson."

Gwen paused her book halfway out of her bag before pushing it back in. Around her others were doing the same, with grins and hopeful glances being passed around in doves.

Professor Lupin made his way to the door, a kind smile on his face despite his shabby appearance. Gwen would've thought he would've been bitterer to whatever cards he had been dealt in life.

"Follow me." Said Professor Lupin and he led them through the corridors.

The Professor led them into the staff room. There was a wardrobe that shook violently and several people flinched back. "There's no need to worry, it's perfectly safe." Said the Professor calmly, "It's only a boggart. Can anybody tell me what a boggart is – yes Miss Granger?"

"A boggart is a shapeshifter that takes on the form of which you most fear," Granger said quickly.

"Very good, ten points to Gryffindor. Boggarts like small cramped spaces such as trunks, the gaps beneath beds or –" he gestured to his side, "- cupboards."

Gwen eyed the run-down cupboard wearily. It shook so violently one would've thought it was trapped in there with a werewolf.

"This was here moved in a few days ago," he continued on in an even voice, "and I asked Headmaster Dumbledore if I might keep it for students to practice with. We have an advantage over it, do you know what it is, Harry?"

Potter blinked quickly, "Er- because there's so many of us?"

It was framed as more of a question and less of a statement but Lupin accepted the answer nonetheless. "Exactly. Now, the charm that banishes a boggart requires more. The incantation is riddikulus and when you cast, you need to think of something amusing. What gets boggarts is laughter. Before we cast, repeat the incantation for me. Riddikulus."

The class echoed him and behind her, she heard Malfoy mutter, "This class is ridiculous."

"Brilliant! Yes now who should go first?" he scanned the students that stood huddled together and pointed at a pudgy faced boy, " ? Why don't you give it a try?"

"A-Alright," Longbottom said nervously, pulling his wand from his robes and holding it out nervously. The class tittered and giggled quietly at the nervous boy, some whispering furiously to each other with smirks on their faces.

"What's your worst fear, ?" the Professor asked not unkindly.

Longbottom murmured something quietly, blushing slightly. Lupin encouraged him to speak up and he finally said, "Professor Snape."

Malfoy snickered quietly behind her.

"Tell me, what does your grandmother wear?" Professor said, something glinting in his eyes.

"I don't want it to turn into her either!" he said worriedly.

Lupin chuckled and leaned down to whisper something in his ear and Longbottom nodded, seemingly determined by whatever he heard. Lupin waved his wand and there was a bang as the door flew open.

Professor Snape stepped out, scowling menacingly. It was terribly reminiscent of the day when Gryffindor won the School Cup. Longbottom's determination melted away a tad but he pointed his wand and shouted, "Riddikulus!"

The lookalike Snape stumbled back, his clothes melting and changing into old fashioned women's wear. The clothes were garish and outdated, including a tacky red handbag and a daunting vulture hat that didn't compliment the outfit at all. She could literally hear the quiet gasps of horror by Pansy Parkinson.

'Snape' looked up in horror and the class burst out in laughter. Gwen smiled at the sight. "Line up!" Lupin said encouragingly, "So all of you can have a go!"

How about, no?

Even the Slytherins seemed excited, Malfoy pushing through the line with Crabbe and Goyle at the side but Gwen didn't fancy facing her fears, not today. She stood beside a Slytherin at the end of the line.

Standing sideward's so that when the next person who had gone joined the back again, she would slip to the back of the line. Gwen had a pretty good idea what her fear was and it wasn't something she'd want to show publicly.

"You've all done well today. For homework read the section on boggarts for next lesson."

The lesson was over apparently and Gwen slid through the crowd that left to find Malfoy. Professor Lupin might not have noticed if she didn't go but she was almost certain Malfoy had.

When she caught up to him, Malfoy sneered at her, and Gwen prepared herself to make a nice excuse up, "Didn't go, Bortole?"

"Didn't feel like finding what I'm afraid of." She shrugged. "I think some things should be kept secret."

Parkinson giggled obnoxiously and Gwen felt like pointing out she hadn't gone either but didn't – she had a feeling that if she did then Malfoy would stick up for her. They had a strange relationship like that. When they were alone with few people around, Gwen could consider her and Malfoy a friend but when around others both of them seemed to lunge for each other throats. She couldn't put all the blame on Malfoy, she initiated some of it too, but she would rather prefer it would stay constant.

Merlin, being a witch wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

OoO

Alex,

How are you? I know what you're going to stay; I'm fine, most of the teachers hate me, what about mum? So I'll save you writing me back.

That's nice, Alex. No, they don't. I'll tell you during the summer this time, I promise.

Onto other news, I finally have competent professors this year – the professors for arithmancy and runes are both capable at least, and although Snape isn't the highest caliber of a person, he favors Slytherin so I can get away with any major mistakes. Which I don't make - don't you dare take that out of context! The DADA Professor - we get a new one every year, it's cursed apparently - looks rather poor but considering the track record I'll take what I can get...

The boy I told you about – Malfoy, you know him, yes? – has matured a slight although he's still a pain and we argue a lot more now when we're out together. We're not a couple, Alex, before you get that idea into your head.

When we're alone, it's nice, I suppose. He's not as arrogant then. It makes everything bearable but when we're with others, he brags and swaggers and tries to start arguments. I guess it's some form of character development. I keep trying to avoid him though. He's still irritating and he reminds me of a peacock or a leech. Either works.

Hope you have fun being 'hated' by the teachers,

Sincerely,

Gwen.

OoO

"Having fun?"

Melaia Rowle flicked her blonde curls over her shoulder casually, crossing her legs in the silver and bronze armchair in the corner of the common room. The girl leaned on her hand, gazing around the common room, looking eerily like a cat.

"I suppose," Gwen said, staring across at nothing in particular. It was the weekend and despite classes being in full swing, Gwen found herself with no homework to do and Malfoy had left the common room early that day. She supposed she could track down Ginny Weasley and co. but ever since Tuesday, when Melaia had restarted their 'lessons', she had found herself bruised black and blue and too exhausted to do more than classwork.

"Do you see Carrow over there?" she pointed down at a dark-haired girl who sat with a boy hunched over a book, "That's Flora Carrow."

"Okay...?" Gwen said, slightly confused. Flora Carrow, the colder of the two Carrow siblings with dark hair and darker ambitions, but who cared less about the younger years than Snape cared about Hufflepuffs.

Melaia continued on. "And there, Cassuis Warrington, do you know what they're working on?"

"They're working on a rule – as understudies if you will. For first years." Melaia stared at her, eyes boring into her head, "Do you understand what I'm saying, Bortole? What I'm offering you."

Gwen wished that she could say yes. She was vying for her approval, despite her own cruel nature of teaching and methods, and Gwen wished she didn't.

"You never tell anyone – not Malfoy, not Parkinson, no-one."She pointed a finger at her, eyes narrowed, "I'm placing myself out there telling you as a third year. Do you swear not to tell?"

Gwen nodded quickly.

"Now, let me tell you about the Council."

Hi! thanks for reading! i'd appreciate it if you could review and follow. i had to split up third year because a) its not done and i promised an update and b) i underestimated how much i would have to write. the plot should begin to pick up speed now.

like part one, part two will be coming out next week! im not sure if there will be three parts, mayhaps, but we'll see, i guess.

also up on ao3 under the name wufflles!