Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I do not own.
A/N I have a Pinterest board for this story on my account (username is Veronica Wayland, board is called Legacy Fanfiction Storyboard) that has the start of my dreamcast and I put up new pins to alert followers to a new chapter. If you want to check it out, go ahead. If you don't, that's fine too. It's just something fun with some visuals for the story.
July, 1991
St. Wool's Orphanage, London
Phoebe Black hurried down the streets of Muggle London. A black handbag tied to her belt, an excited gleam in her eye and a definite hop in her step... The eleven year old had had a good morning, but if the street lamps were turning off, it meant it was nearly time to get up at the orphanage and, as excited as she was, she knew her ruse of stuffing pillows under her blankets was sure to be ruined if anyone were to go in to check on her.
Lights out as the orphanage was at sun-down while the wake-up call usually happened right after sunrise. With that timeline, she could usually get a few hours of sleep and then some time to herself in the streets. If you knew where to look, which Phoebe did, you could usually find something of use. For instance, the bakery donated day old goods to the homeless shelter nearby. However, Phoebe had struck up a friendship with the owner and he would always hold back a small box of cookies or muffins for her. She could then take half for herself and trade the other half around the orphanage for other objects. Those Muggle objects, anything from a cigarette lighter one older boy had given her to a ballpoint pen, could be traded to one particular man in a small shop by a place called the Leaky Cauldron. He was a wizard, but he was fascinated with Muggle objects. She could trade him some Muggle things and he'd give her something from the wizard world in return. That morning, she'd traded an old rubiks cube for a small roll of Spellotape. When something exciting happened in the wizard world, the old wizard would even give her a newspaper to read all about it, no charge.
Eavesdropping, sneaking out, breaking all the rules and talking to strangers really had helped her. She truly wondered what rules were good for anymore, if not to break them to further advance yourself.
The orphanage wasn't exactly hard to spot, what with the grey walls and stench of sorrow, and she certainly knew her way around the area, dark or not. She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder, made sure her bag was still attached to her belt and started climbing. One foot on a windowsill, boost herself up to grab the top of the window. She pulled herself up, planted her feet on the top of the windowsill and continued on up the side of the building.
A pencil was placed in between the windowsill and her window, keeping it open just enough she could slip her fingers through and push it open. She slid inside, got tangled up in the curtains and tripped. She recovered quickly and straightened her back. Turning, she shut her window, tossed the pencil onto her desk and went to sit on her bed, covered with thin sheets and with her old stuffed dog keeping watch on the door.
Phoebe dug into her bag at her side; it had been spelled to be much larger on the inside than the outside. It had taken several pens, a flashlight, a book of matches and a handful of Muggle coins to get it from the old wizard, but it was well worth it. She kept everything she needed in a bag attached to her belt-loop.
She stuck her arm in, digging around for the box of cookies she had gotten earlier. Before she could find them, a knock on the door sounded and the knob started to turn. She threw herself down on her side and yanked the covers up over her, trying to pretend as though she was just waking up.
The door swung open and two people stepped in, Ms. Norman and a woman that Phoebe didn't recognize. She sat up, gave a fake yawn and kept the covers up to her waist so Ms. Norman couldn't see she was already in her jeans and boots.
"Phoebe, this is Professor McGonagall. She wants to talk to you about... something." Ms. Norman waved her hand and walked out, shutting the door behind her.
"Professor, huh? I think I can guess what this is about." Phoebe kicked the covers off her and stood up.
"This is for you." The older witch handed her an envelope.
She knew what it was before she even took it. There was the Hogwarts seal on it and, in perfect handwriting: Ms. P. Black. Hogwarts. He escape route from an orphanage where she was called a freak to a school where she'd be called evil. Phoebe wasn't stupid or completely cut off from the wizard world; she knew what the Black family name meant.
Right after her family had been murdered, she'd been sent to her nearest 'family' members. The Malfoy's; her cousins. They had made sure she knew exactly what the family name meant. The orphanage was actually a step up from them; making Lucius and Narcissa feel as if she was 'manipulating' their poor Draco into seeing her less racist views had been the best thing she'd never done.
Hogwarts was going to be just as bad, or worse. No doubt everyone would think of her as her father's daughter and nothing more. But she had to look at this in a way that would help her. She learned magic, she graduated, she got to use magic, she did what she wanted.
She looked up at Professor McGonagall again.
"Where do I sign up?"
Outside Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon, England
The Lupin cottage was a small place, the second story was more of an attic than anything else and it was nearly overgrown with vines. It was out of the way and so far from the road that no one could see it. The most remarkable thing about the property, aside from the luscious meadows of flowers, was the tree-house that stood proud in the largest tree on the lot.
There was a trap door and a rope ladder. The walls were thick and sturdy, with windows on all sides and shutters in the place of actual glass. The inside had built in shelves and benches. It was something no eleven year old could build; it had been built primarily by Dorcas, Thomas's mother. Now he was the only one that entered it, but he kept it in tip-top shape... Mostly.
He called it The Lab and things tended to go awry in there, but aside from the occasional scorch mark (that was a bad day) and paint stain (things happen, no need to cry over spilled paint), it was mostly nice looking still.
On the sunny July morning, Thomas was preparing for another one of his experiments: Mento time bombs. He'd frozen the Mentos in ice cubes and now had a bucket of coca cola. He had to time everything... for science. And future reference.
He took a pair of tongs and dropped a few ice cubes in. Then another couple, just to be sure there would be a visible reaction. He started the stop-watch and then ducked behind his over-turned coffee table for cover.
His mother had always found something fun to do in The Lab. Whether it was staying up there all night telling scary stories or pretending to be stowaways on a ship during a storm. She'd never run out of ideas. While Thomas's fun was a little different now, he never ran out of ideas either. Just cleaning supplies and coca cola.
A few minutes passed as Thomas waited. He wondered if he should go over and throw a couple more ice cubes in, then decided it would affect the timing and results. So he twiddled his thumbs behind his cover and waited some more.
Outside his open window, he saw an unfamiliar owl swoop past with what looked like a letter in its beak. It was his Hogwarts letter. It had to be. Thomas stood up from behind his cover, intent to run down to get it.
That was when the time bombs went off. Violently.
A few minutes later, he came stumbling into the cottage. Remus Lupin looked up from the table where the letter sat and spotted Thomas, dripping and sticky, in the doorway. He opened his mouth to question it, but then just stopped, shook his head and walked away. Probably to consult his parenting books again...
Undeterred by his father's obvious disappointment in him, Thomas ran to the kitchen table, only slipping once, and grabbed his letter. It had the purple wax seal he'd imagined, with a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake around a large H. His heart leaped inside his sticky chest. He was going to Hogwarts.