My computer randomly shut down just before I finished saving the first version of this chapter, so now I feel like everything is redundant because I've written it before. Is this how teachers feel teaching the same thing every hour? Ah, well. . .
Disclaimer: This world and these characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The only thing I own is the plot.
Lucy Weasley, sorting
Lucy watched nervously as her cousin strolled confidently to the hat, perching on the stool with collected self-assurance. The hat hadn't been on her head for a second before it bellowed, "GRYFFINDOR!"
"Lucy Weasley." Professor Longbottom's voice rang clearly through the residual applause from Dom's sorting, and Lucy considered running away briefly before tilting her chin up haughtily. Why should she be afraid? She'd be joining her cousin within moments.
"Another Weasley?" she heard a voice whisper. "How come she hasn't got red hair?"
Lucy flipped the thick, perfectly curling black mane she'd received from her mother and went to sit on the stool. So what if she didn't have red hair? Neither did Al or James – although she supposed they were technically Potters. But it was the same thing, really.
Hmm, murmured the hat. You're an interesting one. Not a typical Weasley at all, though I see you've inherited your father's ambition.
Just put me in Gryffindor! Lucy snapped at it. I don't want to be a hatstall. I'll set you on fire, again, if you don't, and something tells me you don't want a repeat of what happened the last time you were burned.
The hat had the nerve to be amused. As you grow older, I can only hope that you become one of those of your house who have learned that there is a difference between living as though you are playing a game of chess – which, really, even the most Gryffindor of your uncles, a Mr. Ronald Weasley, could tell you about; quite the brilliant strategist, that one – but yes, the difference between that and bullying. Others of the house seem to have mistaken one for the other, I'm afraid. . .
Quit blathering! This is me, not my family members! Lucy scowled. Oh, no – what did you say? Don't you dare – I'll turn you into a pair of trousers for my baby cousin! I'll give you to my aunt's vicious cat!
With a chuckle, the hat declared, "SLYTHERIN!"
The hall was quiet. The staff looked stunned, Dom looked disappointed, Molly and Vic were shocked, and the Slytherins seemed not to know what to think. Lucy didn't budge from the stool.
"Well done, Luce!" Teddy called to her all of a sudden, and that was enough for Lucy to stand, set her shoulders, and force the tears away. With a grateful look at her cousin, Lucy took a seat at the Slytherin table.
The Slytherins began to clap, but nobody spoke to her until Lizzie Montague, a third year sitting nearby, spoke. "Well, finally. It's about time we got a Weasley. You lot are infamous for Quidditch talent and winning the House Cup, and it's about time Slytherin did well."
That broke the tension, and a few of the older people slapped her high fives. Another first year, Will Raven, joined the table a moment later and immediately began talking to Lucy.
"I was supposed to be a Ravenclaw," he confessed to her. "My parents both were, and my last name is Raven of all things. Of course, I was supposed to be a lot of things I'm not. Like, you'd expect me to be raven-haired, but instead I got this." He ruffled his dark red shock, which looked like it might be brown until the light hit it.
"That's all right," Lucy told him ruefully. "I'm a Weasley. With black hair. In Slytherin."
He grinned at her. "Maybe we can switch hair. Or last names. I don't fancy myself with mid-back length black curls."
They snickered, and Lucy forgot about her disappointment until a nasty voice drawled, "You shouldn't be here."
Lucy exchanged a glance with Will and frowned at the offending boy, a burly looking sixth year. "Excuse me?" she asked coldly. She'd noticed that while most of the older kids had accepted her, a small group was looking disgusted.
He sneered at her. "Slytherin House doesn't accept blood traitors like you. The Weasleys may be pureblood, but –"
And that was when Lucy realized that her House needed to change. "Nobody cares," snapped Will from beside her.
"That's right," Lucy agreed, glaring at the boy while the surrounding first years watched fascinatedly.
"They're first years, and they've got better brains than you," said a Slytherin prefect, Camilla Dane. "Mind yourself, Goyle."
Goyle glared but fell silent, and the first years turned to Will and Lucy, impressed. "Wow," said a blonde girl. "That was brilliant. I'm Holly Charlotte." She grinned, her green eyes twinkling merrily.
"Lucy Weasley," Lucy introduced herself.
"Will Raven."
"I can't wait until we learn a few hexes," said another boy from beside Will. "That Goyle character looked like he could use a few. I'm Dylan Curtis."
Lucy considered telling them that she already knew a fair number of hexes, but decided against it, knowing that her cousins would disapprove. They could get into serious legal trouble if anyone knew. She decided instead to shock (and impress) them on the first day of class.
"So those are your cousins, then, Lucy?" Holly asked, gesturing towards Molly and Vic.
"Molly's a second year, Vic's a third year, Teddy's a fifth year, and Dom's a first year, like us," Lucy rattled off, pointed at them as she went. Molly and Vic caught her eyes and nodded, grinning.
Will shook his head. "I'm an only child," he admitted. "You're family's huge!"
Lucy gave him a look. "Wait till you see the rest of them. This is nothing, believe me."
"I can't believe you're related to Teddy Lupin," Dylan told her, impressed. "My brother Nate's a fifth year, too, except he's a Ravenclaw, and he told me that Teddy's a Quidditch god. And apparently really popular, especially with –"
"Oi!" Lucy nudged him with her shoulder, frowning. "I know, I know."
Dylan shook his head emphatically. "No! Apparently he's top of his year, too, and Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor. Apparently he's got the brains to beat nearly every single Ravenclaw in class. It's mad."
Holly waved a hand. "Whatever," she said airily, winking at them. "You should know that Slytherins never compliment other people, mate."
Just as airily, Dylan replied, "Oh, I never said he was smarter than me. I was just saying I've heard good things."
"That's more like it!" Holly cheered.
Will and Lucy exchanged grins. A moment later, Holly cleared her throat, gesturing behind her. Lucy turned to find Dom standing there with her hands on her hips. Although she'd never admit it, Lucy was relieved to see that she didn't look mad or disgusted. It would be quite another story, she knew, when news of her house got back to the adults.
From Teddy's earlier encouragement, she already knew she had his support. Molly and Vic had nodded at her earlier, so she knew they were supportive, too. It was good to know she had her cousins behind her.
"We're not in the same house," Dom began, and Lucy interrupted before she could finish.
"Brilliant observation, Dom. How very Gryffindor of you. Ever considered a career in detecting?" She gave her a grin.
Dom grinned back. "One meal in Slytherin, and your already bashing the house you were so desperate to be in? 'Oh, Dom, do you suppose they'll kill us if we're like Vic and Molly and don't return home wearing scarlet and gold robes? Can you imagine not being sorted into Gryffindor? I think my father would be heartbroken to know that both of his daughters were Ravenclaws.'"
Lucy narrowed her eyes at her. "You know what this calls for, Dom."
Dom nodded. "A wager," she declared.
"Five galleons says Uncle Ron faints at the thought of having a Slytherin niece," Lucy said immediately, giving a shockingly Slytherinesque grin for someone who had, as her cousin so aptly put it, only spent a meal in the house.
Will, Holly, and Dylan looked on, highly entertained. "Five galleons says he writes to the Headmistress about a re-sort," Dom returned.
"What if he does both? It's probably bound to happen."
"Fine. Five galleons on the fact that he writes first, then faints."
"I say he's comatose for at least three days before he wakes up and writes to McGonagall," Lucy objected.
"Fine."
"D'you suppose Neville – I mean, Professor Longbottom has already written to them?"
"Of course."
"D'you suppose they'll send me a Howler?"
"Maybe."
"D'you suppose there's any chance I'll get out of this alive?"
An evil glint appeared in Dom's eye.
"Definitely not."
Lucy sighed. "I thought so. I want tulips at my funeral. Tell Uncle George I'm sorry I didn't send him a toilet seat."
"I'll include it in your eulogy."
Lucy Weasley, first year
Lucy's eyes narrowed as she saw Bulstrode's potion turn a nasty shade of brown. It was supposed to be a pale blue, like Lucy's own potion currently was. She exchanged a glance with Will, her partner, who shook his head in disgust at Bulstrode. The fellow first year had been antagonizing Lucy for not belonging in Slytherin the entire year, and Lucy thought she'd get what she deserved if the potion exploded in her face, as Lucy knew it would in the next few minutes.
However, only a year in Slytherin had made Lucy far more devious. "Take care of the potion," she whispered to Will, before slipping out of her seat and walking over the Bulstrode. The girl's partner was Jessica Greengrass, a girl who had always been kind to Lucy.
"I'll help fix it," Lucy told Jessica, who nodded gratefully.
Knowing that getting out of her seat had brought Professor Dewing's attention to her, Lucy gently tossed some perfectly crushed lacewing eyes into the potion. Immediately, it started to darken before fading to a pale blue.
"I don't need your help, blood traitor," snarled Bulstrode.
"Detention with me, tonight, Miss Bulstrode, for name calling," snapped Professor Dewing. "I'm ashamed of such behavior, and from my own house, too!"
She then turned to Lucy, who was aware that the eyes of every student in the room had turned on the scene. "Ten points to Miss Weasley for an excellent remedy of a horrible potion, and an additional five for helping an ungrateful person who is not her friend. Obviously, labels like the one Miss Bulstrode used say nothing about the brains of our students."
The Slytherins cheered at the addition of points, and at the end of class, many of their fellow first years clapped Lucy on the back with comments like "Fifteen points, nice!" and "Put her in her place, well done!" and "Brilliant, Weasley!"
Holly slapped her a high five and Will and Dylan came up on either side of her, each throwing an arm across her shoulders. "You make me proud!" Holly declared, mock-sniffling.
"You little Slytherin, you," Dylan teased, poking her in the stomach. Lucy allowed herself a smirk as Will grinned smugly. They all knew by now that to survive Slytherin, you had to understand the delicate balance of power. Slytherins really did live life like a chess game. They were cunning, manipulative, and very hard to deceive, and they were already starting to become known for it rather than the narrow-mindedness of what was now a minority in their house.
Slowly, Lucy (with the help of Will, Holly, and Dylan) was ensuring that people with views like Bulstrode's were being looked down upon by their fellow Housemates. They were now the outcasts, and even those that still shared those views but had the typical Slytherin intellect were refusing to show that sort of behavior for fear of losing any and all respect and influence within their house. Slowly but surely, Lucy was stamping out the views that regarded Slytherins as evil and blood-purity crazed and replacing them with view of her house as cunning, ambitious (albeit ruthlessly so), and masterful at manipulation.
Slytherin House was still the sworn enemy of Gryffindor House, but now, they were acknowledged as one of the two greatest houses at Hogwarts. They were known to have admirable qualities, just as much as Gryffindor, although those of other houses didn't want to be them. (It wasn't as if Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were rushing to be Gryffindors, either; they had House pride, after all. They just saw the usefulness of having Gryffindor daring and chivalry and the ability to not let fear get in the way of their goals, just as they saw the usefulness of having Slytherin's ability to both detect lies and deceive perfectly and their ruthless ambition.)
Salazar would be proud.
Rowan Wood, age eight
They were being utterly silent, and Rowan would never have noticed if it weren't for the fact that she was already awake. She saw the silhouette of a boy, and then nothing. Rubbing her eyes, she was prepared to dismiss it when she caught a flash of red hair – Fred? He had inherited his father's pale skin and fiery hair, unlike his sister, who had skin the exact color of Aunt Angelina's coffee (she drank it with ridiculous amounts of creamer and sugar, until it looked like brownish milk) – and then white-gold hair flashing in the moonlight; Louis, perhaps? Then rumpled black hair – definitely James.
Lowering her lids so she appeared to be asleep, Rowan watched as they stood in the hallway, just in front of the door way, and three four pairs of eyes fell on her – one a deep brown, one pair hazel, one pair a deep blue, and the last pair brown again.
Then they all vanished. Rowan's eyes flew open to make sure she hadn't imagined it again, and she lay in bed, heart beating strangely fast. After several long minutes, she got out of bed and walked aimlessly through the Manor.
None of her sleepovers at Potter Manor had ever been as interesting as this. Maybe it was because Teddy was there that night. Rowan faintly caught the sound of low whispering and followed it into a hallway. The hallway was empty – at least at first. As she watched, it was as if a veil slipped off them and James, Fred, Louis, and Teddy appeared in front of her eyes!
Rowan gaped soundlessly. None of the four bothered to look her way. Instead, they opened a door and slipped inside. Rowan hurried forward, slipping on something. She managed to muffle her yell as she hit the ground on top of – was that a cloak?
Frowning, she felt the material, letting it run over her hand – and suddenly it disappeared. Rowan's jaw dropped. This couldn't be. . . where had the boys gotten an invisibility cloak?! Life just wasn't fair.
Slipping it on, Rowan entered the room.
What she saw stunned her.
An hour later. . .
"There. You've taken the vow. You can't tell anyone." Teddy sounded satisfied.
James peered at her, slightly worried. "Rowan? Are you all right? You look a bit pale. And you're quiet."
Rowan pursed her lips and nodded slowly. Then she began to smile. "I was just wondering when the next meeting was. You can't expect me not to come."
They blinked once. Twice. Exchanged glances.
Then, "Next weekend. Same time, same place. Don't be late."
Rowan Wood, first year
"Potter! Weasley! Weasley! Wood!" Professor Finley snapped. Rowan hid a grin as James, Fred, and Louis look up at the Defense professor with innocent expressions on their faces. Anyone who knew them wouldn't believe it.
"Why aren't your wands out? I wanted you to go through the wand motions of the disarming spell!"
"Of course, Professor," Louis drawled idly, grinning lazily up at her and winking.
Professor Finley's eyes narrowed. "Fine," she said, seeming to come to a decision. "Class, if you would, these four have a demonstration to make." She looked at them triumphantly, as if daring them to challenge her. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Wood believe that they can disarm me."
They stood and strolled causally to the front of the room. The identical unconcerned expressions of their faces seemed to perplex Professor Finley, but she gestured for James to step forward first, chalking it up to the mischief makers' eleven-year-old cockiness. "Potter, you first."
"Of course, Professor," James agreed graciously, bowing his head with the gallantry of Sir Galahad. The rest of the class watched eagerly. It was only two weeks into school, and they were already recognized as brilliant, but the poor professor obviously didn't know what she was getting into. Disarming at this stage? Impossible! Or so she thought.
Drawing his wand, James expertly called, "Expelliarmus!"
The Professor's eyes widened as her wand flew out of her hand. James caught it neatly out of the air and twirled his own, looking satisfied. "Here you are, Professor," he said politely, returning her wand with a rather debonair grin.
"Potter!" she called as he returned to his seat.
He arched an eyebrow at her. "How did you know the incantation? You were only supposed to be practicing wand movements."
James didn't hesitate. "I thought the wand movement was rather easy, and my father always said that the disarming spell was one of the most useful, so I read ahead out of curiosity."
Subtly diverting the Professor's attention from the statement itself to his father; lying smoothly and easily with that trademark charm. . . if James Potter wasn't so very Gryffindor, he'd definitely be in Slytherin. That went for the entire family, actually. They were all extremely intelligent; all ridiculously brave and chivalrous; all incredibly loyal – and all giftedly, cunningly, deceptively ambitious.
Professor Finley nearly smiled. Nearly. Instead, however, she turned to Fred. "If you would, Mr. Weasley?"
Fred gave an exaggerated bow. "Whatever the lady wishes," he acquiesced dramatically, bowing low. Straightening, he retrieved his wand with a flourish, and with an amused glint in his eyes, said, "Expelliarmus."
Again, Professor Finley relinquished her wand to the first year's waiting hand, and she couldn't help but feel slightly awed at the sheer brilliance of these wayward students. Troublemakers though they were, she couldn't deny their prodigious talent.
Waving Fred away, she nodded to Louis. "Mr. Weasley, another demonstration, if you please?"
"Certainly, Professor," Louis agreed suavely. He wasted no time. "Expelliarmus!" Catching the wand out of the air, he gave the shocked professor a nod before taking his seat behind James and Fred.
"Miss Wood." Professor Finley beckoned to her.
Rowan tilted her head, considering the woman in front of her. After a moment, she repeated, "Expelliarmus." The wand flew into her hand, and Rowan allowed herself a satisfied smirk, thankful once more that she was friends with such incredibly devious people.
Tossing her dark, dark brown hair, Rowan returned the wand to its rightful owner and dropped into her seat beside Louis, high-fiving James as she went.
"Five points to Gryffindor, each," Professor Finley awarded, "for an incredible display of magic."
The four youngest kids landed smoothly on their feet as they were wrenched out of the pensieve, well accustomed to the sensation after having experienced it so many times.
"That's what you've got to look forward to," Rowan told them smugly.
"Have you ever considered hiding your talent?" Alice asked them. "So that when you carry out a particularly incredible prank or something, they can't suspect you because as far as they know, you aren't capable of such advanced magic."
"We do hide our full potential," Louis told them, frowning slightly. "They'd be suspicious if they knew that we can produce a Patronus, or perform a summoning spell."
"They'd discover our secret," Teddy agreed. "And we would be taken to trial. I'd never become an Auror, Vic would never become a Cursebreaker – I'd probably go to Azkaban, because I'm of age! You'd probably go to Azkaban, regardless of your age, because they underestimate us. They think we don't know how serious underage magic is; how badly we could hurt ourselves. But we've seen it all in the pensieve."
"I can't wait until Hogwarts," Scorpius breathed wistfully. "Having it as a secret just makes it all the more exciting. It's a good thing that vow we made keeps us from being physically able to tell people the secret, though; can you imagine slipping up?"
"Vow or not, you need to be careful," Lucy warned. "There are a lot of ways this information could be used against you. I can think of a hundred right now."
"You're a Slytherin," Alice muttered. "Of course you can."
Lucy gave her a smug look. "What is it that I've told you? The world is a chessboard and the people are pieces, and –"
"We are the players," Al, Rose, Scorpius, and Alice finished in unison.
Fred nodded approvingly. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes tonight's meeting. To Legacy!"