Memories, yet again.
Sarika: who else would it be? No one but you knows your password and you are so paranoid as to make your friends close their eyes.
Memories: One can't be too careful, Sarika. Trust no one.
Sarika: (rolls eyes) Oh for bibliophilia, Memories you need to just do the disclaimer. Lawyers tend to get testy when you don't.
Memories: Yes, Sarika, once again, you are my commander. I do not own Harry Potter, as is obvious by his name. I have taste with names. Also, Ginny would have died in the second book; and Tom would have had a nice time with twelve-year old Harry. Please don't kill me Sarika.
Sarika: Why would I? It's a perfectly drool-worthy idea. Though we will not write it. We will write Lullaby, isn't that right?
Memories: Yes, Sarika, we will write Lullaby.
"Spell."
"Speech."
/Parseltounge. /
'Thoughts.'
(Author Notes)
"Another language"
:::
Philomel was left in a busy restaurant by Hagrid after she assured him that her guardians would come pick her up. Hagrid took her at her word and paid for the meal before leaving. Shortly after Philomel finished her small meal of a salad, Severus came to Philomel's table.
"Harry, are you done?"
Philomel nods and gets up. Once they are both outside, Severus holds out a piece of string. Philomel barely has time to wrinkle her nose and take it before they disappear.
\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/
They arrive at Platform 9 3/4 quite early and there's barely anyone there. Quickly looking around, Severus steers Philomel into a secluded spot.
"Philomel, I want you to understand that at Hogwarts my actions towards you will not be anything that displays my true feelings. It is a façade that I'm forced to put on to fool some people who might report my so-called lapse in demeanor. Anything I say in regards to you or your mother I most likely will not mean. You will always be welcome to send me letters and in an emergency come to me for help." Severus explains. Philomel is looking quite confused by this time.
"Yes sir, but what about you will be different?"
Severus sighs and looks around again to make sure that they are still alone. "I will be cruel, perhaps even sadistic, to you. Any lapse that you have in any subject I will most likely drive in till I won't blame you if you hate me. Your appearance, your heritage, your choices, your fame, nothing will be left out. I don't think that I'll be able to forgive myself, let alone let myself believe that you would forgive me." Severus breaks eye contact with Philomel and continues, "I know that Lily most definitely would never forgive me."
Philomel bites her lip again, still unconscious of doing so, and replies, "Professor, whatever you do, I'm sure that other people will do worse. You have no idea how cruel children can be."
Severus nods and straightens before sneering, "Get on the train, Potter. Hopefully I won't have the misfortune to have to escort you yet again."
Philomel dips her head toward Severus and gathers her things before edging in a polite, "Yes, sir, thank you for your time."
\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/
Philomel is storing a heavy trunk and trying desperately not to fall under its weight when it is lifted out of her hands by two pairs of freckled hands.
"Need a hand, mate?" asked one of the twins. Philomel nods thankfully.
"We're Fred and George Weasley, who're you?" asked the other.
Philomel shyly casts her eyes down and says, "My name is Harry Potter."
"Really?"
"He is—"
"See the scar?"
The twins are silent for a moment before they say, "Blimey." together.
Each of the twins shake one of Philomel's hands then race off. She stares after them for a moment before venturing into the train compartment. Philomel brings out a thick transfiguration book and sets it open to her page before staring out the window.
\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/
Some time later a red-headed boy pops his head into Philomel's compartment and asks, "Is anyone else sitting here? Everywhere else is full." Philomel shakes her head and motions for the boy to sit down.
"Hi, I'm Ron Weasley. Who are you?"
Philomel winces slightly at the thought having another person shake her hand but replies, "Harry Potter."
Ron, however, just gapes a little and asks, "Really? Have you got that scar?"
Philomel rolls her eyes inconspicuously and reins in her impulses to throw something at him for asking if she was sure about who she was before pushing back her hair to reveal the lightning bolt scar.
"So that's where You-Know-Who--?"
"Yes. Voldemort tried to kill me and this is what is left."
"Wow. Do you remember any of it?" asks Ron after he gets over the fact that Philomel had said Voldemort's name.
"I was one at the time. Do you remember what happened when you were one?" Philomel snaps, impatient with the nonsensical questions despite the fact that she did remember it somewhat. Right then, Draco comes in to the compartment.
"Harry, there you are, I've been looking everywhere. Wait, what are you doing with a Weasley?" he sneers upon seeing Ron. Ron himself turns red with anger.
"He's doing what he wants, Malfoy! Talking to someone that is not a spoiled brat!" Ron retorts, not giving Philomel time to answer.
Philomel watches the two trade insults with disgust before closing her book and picking up her nightingale's cage. "Messrs. Malfoy and Weasley, I can't believe that you would sink this low. If you cannot get over yourselves enough to accept my choice of companions then I suggest that you do not try and talk to me again." Philomel states before walking out the sliding door leaving two confused boys staring after her.
\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/
Philomel realized halfway down the hallway that by walking out of her compartment, she had just given up a place to stay for the duration of the train ride. 'Damn, I should have just kicked them out.'
Philomel decides to just go in another compartment before one of the boys comes out and sees her. Choosing one that only had one person in it by the silhouettes that could be seen through the glass, she goes in.
"I'm sorry for intruding but could I sit in here?" Philomel asks quietly. The boy that was sitting staring out the window turns and smiles at her.
"My dear boy, but of course! My name is Michele Romani, what about you?"
Philomel sighs annoyed prematurely by her fame under a boy's name. "Harry Potter, Mr. Romani."
Michele smiles and motions for her to sit while babbling in broken English, "That's wonderful! Please, call me Michele; this is my second year here at Hogwarts; you must be a first year, because I didn't see you last year. Any idea on what House you'll be in? I'm in Ravenclaw, myself."
Philomel is determinedly not staring and is instead trying to figure out what Michele's accent is; confusion sparking in her green eyes. "Where are you from? Your accent isn't English."
Michele beams with pride before replying, "Il grande metropoli di Roma 1, of course! My parents moved to England two years ago. You're probably from England, aren't you?"
Philomel is looking obviously confused but latches on to the one vaguely familiar word in the entire first part of the first sentence and replies, "You're from Rome?"
Michele nods yes and opens his mouth to speak again but the door slides open to show Hermione and an unknown boy.
"Have either of you two seen a toad around here? Neville here has lost one."
Philomel and Michele look up and Michele answers in his usual condescending manner, "No, I haven't seen any toad, have you Harry?"
Philomel shakes her head. "Have you checked the bathrooms? Aren't toads supposed to like the damp?"
Hermione smacks her forehead before exclaiming, "Now, why didn't I think of that? By the way, my name is Hermione Granger, what's yours?"
"I am Michele Romani."
"Harry Potter."
Hermione gasps and starts to babble and Philomel begins to stare while Michele snickers. Neville wandered off to the bathrooms to look for his toad.
"Wow, I know all about the defeat of the Dark Lord; well as much as one can without witnesses and reliable, undeniable, concrete facts. I would have liked to know more about you but none of the books I read ever mentioned your family life, or even if you actually knew what had happened! In most of the books it was just page after page of supposed details of how a one-year old baby heroically defeated the Dark Lord and survived the dreaded Killing Curse due to your mothers sacrifice. No offense meant to your mother but I'm sure that quite a few people would be willing to die for their children so why did that make you special? Was she saying a spell, or was it something else? Do either of you have any ideas, especially you, Harry, it would be a real treat to hear what the real boy-who-lived has to say on his own past -- " Hermione stops to take a breath and Michele cuts in before she can get going again.
"Now settle down, Hermione. Let us stop talking about Harry and start talking about more normal things like what House you think you'll be in. Besides," Michele smirks, "I think you've scared him."
Philomel has decided to stop staring and go back to her transfiguration book. Both Hermione and Michele notice what she is reading and both have similar reactions.
"You're reading ahead, Harry? That is very good, especially for Professor McGonagall. She is quite strict and demanding, though no more so than Professor Snape."
"Smashing, someone else has read ahead. That's great, I heard that they start on the work right away from a professor I met in Diagon Alley who was there with his goddaughter. They both seemed rather formal, especially Philomel. Somewhat like you, now that I think about it, Harry. Come to think of it, you two look rather alike as well." Philomel stiffens and pales a bit. Hermione thinks for a moment than waves it off, "It must be a coincidence. Unless you're hiding a big secret, but then surely some people would know. I mean, after all you wouldn't be called the boy-who-lived if you were a girl, now would you?"
Philomel pales a bit more but just nods, agreeing with Hermione's assessment. The three talk a bit about what they've learned for a little while; both Hermione and Philomel completely thrown off-kilter by Michele's occasional inappropriate remarks, as well as his condescending manner. After some time has passed, a smiling woman pushing a cart full of treats comes to their door.
"Anything off the cart, dearies?"
Michele immediately starts to pick up a few of the chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties. Hermione hesitantly takes one cauldron cake. Philomel looks over the various sweets with her nose wrinkled up in slight disgust. Finally, she chooses two sugar quills from the cart, and pays for them.
"So, Harry, what did you get?" asks Michele, while grasping a chocolate frog hard whilst reading the card. Philomel shrugs and hands him one of the sugar quills.
"Ah, sugar quills. Quite good, if I recall. Pure sugar is quite tempting, if I do say so myself."
Philomel doesn't reply, just starts to suck on the one. Evidently she finds it to her liking, because she does not stop until it is time for them to change into their robes.
\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/
Once the train stops, Michele, Hermione, and Philomel part ways for the time being.
"Now children, you get to ride in the boats while I get to ride in the carriages. Next year, you'll be able to ride in the carriage with the big kiddies." Michele says in a tone that has Hermione glaring daggers and Philomel smirking while muttering things like 'pompous git.' under her breath.
Hagrid begins to call over the first years, so Michele pats their heads before going off. Philomel and Hermione make their way to Hagrid. Once all the first years have been filtered from the upper classes, Hagrid leads them to rickety looking boats, which Philomel distinctly mistrusts.
"No more'n four to a boat!"
Hermione and Philomel get into a boat together with Neville and a somewhat arrogant black boy named Blaise Zabini. Hermione leans over and whispers into Philomel's ear, "At least we know what Michele meant, now."
Philomel nods fervently. Any other attempts at conversation are cut short when the first years get their first glimpse of Hogwarts. Even Philomel, who had already seen it and had indeed been living there for just about a week, had her breath taken away at the sight of the beautiful old castle. The boats go underneath a low bridge which comes out onto a docking station. The students get out of the boats carefully and Hagrid makes sure everyone is out before leading them up a path to the front doors where Professor McGonagall is waiting.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
Hagrid nods his shaggy head and leaves the first years to the care of the transfiguration Professor.
McGonagall pulls open the door, revealing the huge entrance hall with flaming, lit torches lighting the room. The first years follow McGonagall as she leads them into a small empty chamber just off the hall, almost too small to fit all the students.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," began Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Professor McGonagall looks over them for a minute before continuing her speech.
"I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." She then leaves the chamber. The students stay silent for a moment before breaking into whispers. Hermione starts to babble about the spells she's learned since she got her letter on account of something she overheard Ron Weasley saying. Philomel draws into her self at the proximity of all the people; Hermione doesn't notice.
Then ghosts come through the wall and they are fighting about someone named Peeves.
"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance –" said the fat little monk benevolently.
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost—I say, what are you all doing here?" replies a ghost wearing a decidedly Shakespearean outfit before noticing the gathered first years, some of whom look ready to either faint or running screaming.
The Friar beams at the children, somewhat more perceptive than his companion, and answers for them, "New students! About to be Sorted, I suppose?" Some people nod, among them a fascinated Hermione and Philomel. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old House, you know."
McGonagall's strict voice comes in, cutting off the friendly ghost, "Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." The two ghosts float off through the opposing wall.
McGonagall waits until she's sure they're gone before ordering, "Now, form a line, and follow me."
The first years obediently form a somewhat crooked line and follow Professor McGonagall through another set of huge doors and into the Great Hall.
:::
I know I know, I ended it right before the Sorting, but believe me; the chapter would have been too long if I hadn't. And before anyone asks, I know Michele is a bit arrogant but he does this to annoy people. And yes, he can speak English without all the Italian words dropped in but he'll only do this for a teacher. Oh, and technically, Ron insulted Draco first still but it's still somewhat like splitting hairs. Next chapter, I'm going to cover Hermione's Sorting as well as Philomel's, purely for my own enjoyment and to make sure that you know why I changed what I did. Any other questions, direct them to me in whatever form you wish.
He's saying "The great city of Rome" in Italian, because he's a prick. That will be the only Italian he'll ever speak in this Trilogy, because I hate it, my reviewers hate it, and I pretty sure that I'll lose readers if I edit this entire fic and leave that out.