"~Parseltongue~"


I stretched out on my bed with a yawn. Groggily opening my eyes to reveal the Saturday sun's bright rays streaming into the room. I sat up in the bed and sat there a few moments, looking through the room to hopefully find something that would tell me what time it was. Naturally I found nothing.

I groped for my wand on the nightstand, intending to use it and cast Tempus, but I only succeeded in hitting it off the nightstand. It rolled up to the wall five feet away from the bed and out of reach.

Collapsing back onto the bed I covered my eyes with one hand and dangled my other arm over the edge of the bed. I threw up my arm and stared at the beds canopy above me, "I just wanted my wand. That shouldn't require getting out of bed." Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm not a morning person. I just don't like getting out of the nice, warm, comfy bed.

But I guess it wasn't necessary to get out of the bed yet because the next thing I know my wand is slapping into my palm. It's sudden appearance–along with the now stinging in my palm–made me gasp in shock and shuck it away from me. The wand landed on the floor and clattered across the room.

I looked at the wand as if it was a spider. Let me tell you right now that my greatest fear is spiders. I was waiting for the wand to jump at me like it did before. I was waiting for a long time before I finally realized it wasn't going to do anything.

I crawled to the end of the bed, keeping my eyes glued on the wand. Basil slithered up next to me "~What is wrong Master Dani?~" she never did stop calling me Master, but at least she added my name–even if it is a nickname.

"~I'm not sure yet Basil~" I looked at my hand to find it had a red mark from where the wand had hit me. I looked between the wand and my hand before hesitantly holding my hand out for the wand.

Throughout the week I had been thanking my magic every night before bed, and each time I did I felt a warm sensation wash throughout my body from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. The sensation would always seem to linger in my veins before slowly fading away. When the wand went from the floor and into my hand I felt the sensation run through me, but this time it felt as though whatever was rushing through my veins was happy that it had been used, and the comforting warmth had yet to fade away.

I've never really known what the warmth was, but it never failed to bring a smile to my face. Now that the feeling washed through me while doing wandless magic–because what else could it have been?–I am coming to the conclusion that what I have been feeling was my magic.

From reading the stories about Harry Potter and actually being in Hogwarts, I fully believe that magic was sentient. Not enough to have a mind of its own, but if that feeling of happiness was anything to go by then it could definitely have its own emotions. And it seemed that every time I thanked my magic that was its own way of showing me its appreciation.

With my hand still outstretched towards my wand I thought about what I was feeling when I used my magic. When it happened I knew that my thoughts were revolving around how much I just wanted my wand.

Nothing was really happening so I concentrated on how much I wanted my wand. This time I when I held out my hand I slightly waved my hand. I gave a small gasp when my magic start rushing through me. The magic was concentrated in my palm and the wand flew from the floor and landed in my hand with a smack.

I grinned at the wand with triumph. The grin faded when I realized I was feeling tired. Not tired that you felt when going to bed, but the tired like I've been running for a while and need to catch my breath. Whenever I used my magic before I had never felt this tired and I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because without the aid of a wand it was more taxing on my magic. With no other explanations for it I decided I would go with that reason. I would just have to exorcise my magic more.

I couldn't wait.


I was finishing up my lunch in the great hall when a jolly voice spoke from the seat next to me. "Are you ready to go Miss Abby?" I looked to my left and saw professor Slughorn smiling over at me.

Over the past week I've only had two potions classes, but Slughorn seemed to take a shine to me when I would ask questions about why a certain ingredient reacted the way it did, or why dicing an ingredient would work better than dicing.

He wasn't the only teacher that I seemed to have grown on. It seemed like professor Binns of all people Well, ghosts really. And it surprised me because history was never my best class, and whenever they talked about proffessor Binns' teaching everyone would fall asleep in the class. That or just occupy their time doing something else.

Naturally he taught me about the goblin wars and it took all of my will power not to fall asleep. But there was one thing he had said that I didn't understand, so when I asked a question about it he had stopped his droning and looked at me as if I had two heads. Apparently nobody had ever interrupted him before, or asked him a question. After that class he seemed a little more enthusiastic about our lessons together, and when we would pass each other in the hallways every once in a while he would nod to me and I would nod back.

I shook my head to get rid of my thoughts and turned to answer Slughorn, "Ready as ever professor." When Slughorn heard that I needed to get school supplies he volunteered, quite enthusiastically, to help me get my supplies. Dumbledore was originally going to do it but Slughorn insisted.

Slughorn brought me down to his classroom and brought me to his office. In his office there was a fireplace with a bowl of familiar silver powder on the mantle. He took down the bowl and held it out to me so he could explain what it was and how it was used. I had already used it once so I didn't need to hear how it was used.

I soon found myself getting spat out of the fireplace and into the Leaky Cauldron. It was pretty busy, most likely because it was a Saturday and people were out for lunch.

I waited for Slughorn before allowing him to lead me out of the Cauldron and into the Alley. It wasn't long before he brought me to Scribbulus Everchanging Ink. Inside was filled with numerous amounts of quills all different sizes and colors. The same went for the inkwells. The inks were all different colors, some even changed color, and the inkwells changed in size as well.

It was unnecessary to get any of the more colorful inks, but Slughorn decided I needed them. I walked out of that store with at least one of each color under the rainbow, mostly black because that's the ink I will use for any homework (which I have yet to get, thank goodness). I also got five quills so I would no longer have to use Dumbledores. And if one breaks I can have a back-up.

We set off to get my parchment when I made the mistake of asking him about his house. By mistake I meant that once I asked him I had initiated a one-sided conversation about how his snakes were such good students (which had me internally laughing because most if not all of those snakes would become death eaters) and how one of them was one of his best students, named Tom Riddle.

I showed no reaction to hearing the name. But in actuality there wasn't much emotion to show because I didn't know what to make of Riddle just yet. I knew he was going to become Voldemort and everything, but I was never in the war myself so I couldn't feel any hate towards him.

We entered another shop and I let Slughorn take control over what to buy, because I didn't have a single clue on what I needed. I wandered through the store and found myself in front of the journal section. My gaze drifted from book to book until one caught my attention.

Bound by a red leather cover was a blank journal about and inch-and-a-half thick. I flipped through the journal and went to put it back when I had an idea. I knew just how I wanted to use this journal, but to do that I needed to buy it.

I caught up with Slughorn just as he made it up to the counter to buy what looked to be journals. They weren't that thick–maybe only a centimeter–but I figured I could find a spell that could give the journals a never-ending amount of paper if it was needed.

I set the journal I had found on the counter, and when he looked at me I told him I wanted to get this book. He didn't argue with me about it, and I was pretty sure he believed I would use it for drawing or something. Technically that was exactly what I was gonna do, but he didn't need to know the details.

From the store Slughorn had also found me a bag I could use to carry everything we just bought from the Alley. It was a simple black, over-the-shoulder bag. When I got the course books for when school started everything would fit inside pretty nicely.

I was more than happy to leave the Alley. I wanted to get back to the castle and start researching for certain spells can use on my book. Password protections. Maybe some kind of altered sticking charm. Making the ink appear when a certain phrase is said. Whatever else I think I would need to create my own version of the Marauders Map I would scour the Hogwarts library for it.

When we made it back to Hogwarts I thanked Slughorn and was rewarded with a cheery wave, "Of course, of course!" I raced away to the library and when I was standing in front of the doors I straightened out my clothes before calmly entering the library.

I didn't want to ask the librarian to help me find books about books, she would probably think I was crazy. So I decided I would just start looking at one end of the library and make my way to the other. Anything I found that I believed would help me in the making of the map I would pull down and flip through. It would end with me either keeping the book and add it to the forming stack floating beside me, or give a frustrated huff and put the book back.

I was only one-third of the way through the library when I was forced to leave the library because it was closing. I collected my small stack of books and brought them to the dormitory. I placed my new quills and ink on the bed, along with the bag Slughorn had gotten for me.

Opening one of the black inkwells I dipped a quill inside and flipped open the cover of one of the journals to write 5th year, Transfiguration. I blew on the ink to dry it before closing the journal and sticking it into the bag. Picking up another journal I did the same thing, but labeled it as my charms journal instead of transfiguration.

When I finished labeling each journal I capped the inkwell and went to put it in my bag but stopped. I picked up one of the books I just got from the library and flipped through the one filled with protection spells.

I skimmed through the pages until I found the spell I was looking for. It was an unbreakable spell that was used in objects to make them unbreakable. I didn't want the inkwells to break and spill all over my bag. Knowing me that could happen.

After a couple tries I successfully did the spell (Not without breaking a vase Hatty had kindly lent me) I spelled all of the inkwells before putting them into the bag. When I was finished I put the bag on the floor at the end of the bed before looking over at the leather bound book still sitting on my bed.

I picked up the book and set it on top of those I had just gotten from the library. The next day was a Sunday, and with no classes I needed to go to I had all day to work on making the map. I decided against using a piece of parchment, because it would feel like I was copying the Marauders. I wanted to make something on my own that I thought up myself.

The first thing I would need to do was get the layout of the castle, starting from the first floor up to the seventh. Hopefully I could find a couple of secret passageways the Marauders haven't…well, won't.