Thank you to Frustration for reviewing, it's greatly appreciated, and I'm glad you like it. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the original characters from the series that may show up in this writing.
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A slim golden-haired girl in dusted dress robes gingerly stepped over the grate of Raines Manor, struggling to maintain poise amongst the sting of ash and flames. To nobody's surprise but her own, Silveriat's mother hovered over the girl's delicate approach with a scornful eye. The blonde tilted her chin upward cautiously to meet her mother's gaze, a wry grimace flashing across her features. The woman's narrow, angular face betrayed a shock of hot surprise as she took sight of her daughter's purchases.
"Silveriat!" she hissed angrily, "What have you done, bringing a beast like that in the house?" She suddenly appeared quite flustered, looking distinctly out of place in the collected atmosphere of the home. "You go put that nasty creature in your room this instant, girl! And make that scrounge of hair presentable while you're at it." She stood her ground, hesitant of her mother's harsh drawl.
"Now," the older woman tacked on forcefully. With a scowl, Silveriat obliged, yanking her cauldron behind her angrily as she went.
"And you can wipe that ugly look off your face, young lady!"
After stowing the enigma of a barn owl in her room, Silveriat trounced down the wooden staircase in a sleeved crimson dress. She halted at the flickering murmur of voices behind a large, paneled oak door composed with dark, majestic wood. With one last pat and a final gasp of air within the tight garment, she turned the polished golden knob.
"Miss Raines! What a pleasure it is to see you!" Mimosa Brown's flowery voice broke the sudden silence that had washed over the group. Silveriat beamed at the woman, directing a curtsey at the chestnut curlicues that hung from Mimosa's shoulders.
"The pleasure could only be mine, Lady Brown," she answered fervently, pushing the brightness in her voice. Beside Mimosa sat the Lord Brown and their son Watson, both handsome men possessing a freckle of dark hair across their foreheads. Silveriat could only register relief as she turned to greet Mr. Brown with another polite curtsey—The Malfoys and Blacks were absentees at the moment. From her perch on a fat black armchair positioned next to Mimosa's, Mrs. Raines let out a measured trill of laughter, suddenly turned charming in the presence of another pureblood family.
"Why, little Silveriat is maturing into quite the young lady, isn't she, Mimosa?" she inquired lightly, allowing just a slice of pride into her voice for the Brown's good.
"Oh indeed, Katrina. She's getting a bit tall though, isn't she? Do you think she'll take more after Richard, hm?" she responded delicately, casting an analysts' eye over the eleven-year-old in question. Silveriat tried hard not to fidget, aware of exactly what was going on. Mr. Raines found this a good moment to cut into the conversation.
"She is quite poised for a girl of her age—impressively so. Certainly knows her place as well. I would grant myself the pleasure of saying we have raised her well indeed." Mimosa fell into a respectful silence at Richard's words, instead settling to watch the battle of words rising to a storm.
"I'd have to agree on that one, Richard, chuckled Mr. Brown. "Pretty too. I'm sure she'll be a fine young lady in only a matter of years." Richard Raines looked extremely pleased at this announcement, and despite herself Silveriat caught a blush painting itself in strokes across her cheeks. Across the room Watson smiled smugly at the Raines' reaction and cast a pointed glance at Silveriat, who felt her blush transform from rose to magenta in seconds.
"Father, isn't she starting Hogwarts this year?" asked the boy perkily, an air of superiority permeating his inquiry. Silveriat couldn't help but smile a little bit, amused that he found being right so pleasing.
"Yes, Miss Raines is beginning the year with you, Watson," Mr. Brown answered smoothly with a chuckle slightly too knowing for Silveriat, "Isn't that right, Katrina?"
Silveriat watched passively as the conversation was juggled between the adults, interrupted only at rare intervals by Watson, who seemed to wish for a direction focused on their schooling. It came as a jolt then, when Mr. Brown suddenly asked her a question, something she certainly hadn't been prepared for in a strictly political conversation dancing the edges of a future engagement possibility.
"Which house are you hoping to be sorted in, hmm Miss Raines?" The blonde gave a slight start, foot twitching in surprise at the unexpected addressing. She blushed pinkly when she realized her hair wasn't pinned up quite properly for company, and out of the blue she was too aware of Watson's handsome green gaze from across the room.
"G-Slytherin, I'd think," she began quickly, remembering with a mental slap that her mother would most certainly not approve of the bold and spirited lion's den house. "Ravenclaw, er, wouldn't be a bad choice either, in my opinion." Her stomach clenched nervously as she realized what she'd said.
Ravenclaw, really Silver? When girls aren't exactly supposed to exhibit intelligence?
"It would show respectable wizards that I'm intelligent enough a lady to act proper in public, wouldn't it?" she added cheerily, internally praying that the humor injected into her voice would be enough to save the situation. From the chair next to Mimosa, Katrina Raines quietly appeared livid, sending secret daggers at her daughter behind pleasantly masked interest. To her credit though, Mr. Brown let out a hearty laugh, the deepened sound of it booming relief to all occupants trapped within the lavish room.
"Witty too!" Mr. Brown laughed again, "Oh yes, she'll be a fineyoung woman one day soon! Knows how to hold her tongue, and just how to use it when she's asked as well!" Katrina smiled broadly, letting out the rather huffy breath she'd been holding as a laugh. Richard beamed his regard to the comment as well, appraising Mr. Brown with a heavily approving gaze. Silveriat released all the breath in her lungs as soon as she wasn't being watched, closing her eyes in enjoyment as the cool feeling of absolute relief shivered through her veins.
From his post beside his father, Watson smirked at Silveriat with a wry little smile, winking when she caught him looking and blushed.
"But Mum! He won't even be here most of the time!" Silveriat protested lividly. Katrina's lips were pursed very tightly, and her daughter wondered where they could have gone to look so thin like that.
"Excuse me? Absolutely not! You know the rule about animals in this house, and you would do well to keep it!" Mrs. Raines shot back, outraged at her daughter's blatant disrespect. Silveriat's heart sunk. How much had she spent on the bird yesterday? Quite a few galleons, if she remembered correctly.
"Oh Mum please let me keep him. You won't even realize there's an owl here, I promise. They don't smell! And I'll take care of him," she promised fervently, "He'll just sleep during the day and be off hunting at night, really." Silveriat's green eyes were wide, brow scrunched slightly with her pleading expression. It was exactly the same look Katrina gave Richard when she wanted something badly from a store. Her mother grimaced, indecision flashing briefly across her face.
"Sweetheart, why don't you just let her have the silly animal?" interrupted Richard Raines, striding into the room with a slightly befuddled expression. "If I see for one second you aren't taking care of that beast, mess included," he said, turning to his daughter, "I will make sure myself that you never see it again. Am I understood?" Silveriat sucked in breath through her nose and grinned, the smile sliding across her face as easily as water through a child's hands.
"Of course, Father! I'll make sure he's the cleanest owl you ever coulda met!" she exclaimed, rushing the words in her excitement. Richard let out a breath of laughter, blue eyes closing in sync with a brief smile at his little girl's reaction.
"You ever could meet, Silveriat," he corrected gently. Behind his back, Katrina rolled her eyes before sending her daughter a superior look that clearly said 'you idiot'. The blonde chose to ignore this particular taunt and dipped her head to her father.
"The first thing you can do with him is name him, and then write a thank you to the Browns for attending our get-together last evening and the gracious compliments they gave you." Silveriat nodded again.
"Yes father," she responded. Richard gave a short nod and turned to leave the room, followed at a more leisurely pace by his wife.
"And do make sure you actually do what you're told, Silveriat," she intoned softly, menace darkening the tone that Richard would never hear used on his daughter.
To say the least, the heart of an eleven-year-old was hurting. That strange, silly sort of pain that is not only in your head but is also quite tangible in your chest. While she had been hungry just minutes before, her stomach felt hollow and empty, yet its appetite was gone—dust in the wind.
Silveriat Raines was quite sad.
She sat on the edge of her bed, blonde hair draped in curtains about her face. Even some of its golden shimmer seemed to have died out. With a shaky breath, she dared herself to look up and face the world for what it was. She stood. One step. Two steps—she faltered.
Why does my mother hate me so much?A tear loosened itself from the corner of a single green eye, singing a lament of sorrow as the drop fell to what could only be certain death.
'Splotch!'
She sighed, fighting back the sting of more tears. She simply wasn't allowed to cry, she was strong, she was brave, she was different.
Is that it? thought the girl hollowly, yet unable to ignore the spark of hope with which such a thought was directed at her wood paneled ceiling. It is,something tiny told her, something significant. She gathered the courage to take another step forward. Across the room her new owl, the owl she was allowed to keep, hooted quite softly, watching her with fierce charcoal eyes. Despite herself, the girl smiled wryly back at the bird.
"You're not afraid, are you, boy?" she asked aloud, eyes gleaming at the thought. The bird was strong, he was indignant, and he was proud. It reminded her of a hippogriff, really. The owl hooted back, loudly, the sound trumpeting across the room to declare his evident bravery. Silveriat's smile broadened, and as it did a sliver of pain slipped unnoticed out of her heart.
"I'm going to be strong like you, I'm going to be… courageous." The owl blinked slowly back. It tilted its entire head sideways, ruffling his wings as if a breeze had passed through. The right half of Silveriat's face scrunched up in an expression of amusement.
"That was weird, little guy." At this the owl huffed, puffing out its feathers so the bird's chest appeared about twice the size of what could be called 'normal'. Silveriat actually let out a laugh.
"You're funny. Funny and brave, I rather like you. I know what I'm going to call you now, see? How's 'Bottle' sound?" The owl didn't seem to object, but it didn't exactly react to her question either. Silveriat repeated her face, shaking her head slightly in amusement. The owl, Bottle, had simply ducked his head to begin plucking at an old feather shaft beneath the wing.
She gave a soft, somewhat watery smile at her owl again. What had her father said? She pushed the memory of her mother's closing words away with a frown as the recollection resurfaced in her mind. She was to be courageous. The girl turned away, remembering suddenly what he'd needed—a thank you to the Browns for their 'gracious' company the night before, right. She pushed her curtain of hair back behind one ear, striding with what she hoped was purpose to the desk. Perhaps if she acted strong, she'd feel like it too. With a gasp, she stumbled forward the rest of the way to the wooden desk against the wall, catching herself clumsily with outstretched hands.
She'd have to work on that.
Grabbing a sheaf of parchment from a nearby pile, Silveriat picked up a quill and began to write as neatly as she could, stopping occasionally only to dab the tip of her snowy white feather into the inkwell, staining the tip midnight once again. For a little while, the only sound in the room that could be heard was the scribble of a hollow feather tip on parchment, echoing around the blue walls. As the lines of carefully spaced text grew to fill the page, Bottle dipped his head beneath a dark wing in slumber and the late morning bled into the afternoon.
Once finished, the girl looked over her work with green eyes narrowed to catch any mistake. Finding none in the thank you address, she smiled to herself and rolled it up tightly, sealing it with nothing more than a length of hefty blue string.
"Bottle! Come here for a moment, please?" she called, not unkindly, to the slumbering barn within the golden cage. The handsome owl lifted its head to face her, eyes bleary and half-opened. With a disgruntled hoot, the bird hopped through the door of its open cage and fluttered over to her, ruffling his feathers importantly even as he landed on the desk beside her. Silveriat beamed at him, reaching a hand towards the owl's leg as she did so. Her grin did not last long; Bottle hooted fiercely at her and snapped his beak at the finger that had been there only seconds before.
"Bloody hell, Bottle! What was that for?" she questioned savagely, giving the bird a very dirty glare. The owl ignored her and began to tend to its feathers again, stopping every few seconds to look at the parchment on the desk. Silveriat simply stared.
"Is that what you want? Well why don't you let me give it to you, genius?" she snapped. Bottle clicked his beak together with a sharp snap, swiveling his head to glare right back at his owner. The stare down lasted only seconds, ending after Bottle, who seemed quite fed up with the situation, swooped down to snap up the letter and took off, soaring right through her open window.
"It's for the Browns, Bottle!" she cried half-heartedly after him. With a sigh, she turned away from the window, the events of the previous day suddenly racing through her mind like wildfire. The letter to Hogwarts—she grinned at this—, the mysterious letter from Dumbledore and her shock at finding its subject in Diagon Alley, and the visit with Watson and the Browns. She furrowed her brow, contemplating the rather busy day. Excitement jolted through her gut at the thought of finally going to Hogwarts. She would make real friends and learn magic at last—an instinctive feeling of homecrossed the path of her thoughts, even though she hadn't even been there yet.
Tom would be there too, she realized, as well as Dumbledore. Perhaps he would be able to explain the oddity of a letter to her once she got there.
Yes, that'll be what I do. I'll go straight to Dumbledore and figure everything out. Speaking of Tom though… Silveriat suddenly recalled her last words to the dark-haired boy, and a feeling of guilt washed over her as she realized he probablywouldn't be able to figure out the wizarding postage system. He'd worn muggle clothes after all, meaning he likely had no clue about the world of magic until recently. She pondered for a moment about how he must have felt to learn—was he excited? Fearful? Perhaps a little of both—and wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought. Life without magic sounded absolutely repulsive.
With that, she resolved to write the boy first and find out a little more about him.
Maybe I can even teach him about the magical world so he won't get hit by a train at Hogwarts, she though cheerfully, pulling out yet another sheaf of parchment.
Dear Tom, she wrote,
I hope all is well with you. I'm sure you must be excited for September, with term starting and all. Is it fascinating, the idea of magic when you've never known about it before?
She paused, unsure of how to continue. A million possible questions popped into her mind, but she didn't want to offend him with something out of place or insensitive.
I'm sure Hogwarts will feel like home, Tom. If you don't mind, what's your family like? Mine's what you call purebloods. We're basically a bunch of wizards who never married muggles –non magical folks—in our entire line. Impressive, I guess. We get to have all these fancy meetings in fancy clothes and talk about fancy affairs and what not. I kind of wonder what a real—she stopped, crossed out the world 'real' with a grimace, and continued. –what adifferent family is like. Maybe you can tell me?
Hope to hear from you soon,
Silveriat Raines
P.S. To write back just tell your owl who to give your letter to and he'll take right off with it.
Literally, she thought with a grin. She scanned the letter once over, shocked by how informal it sounded, even to her.
He's not a pureblood though, maybe it won't matter to him, she thought uneasily. She debated silently for a second, unsure of whether or not to trash the letter and start again. Because truly, some hidden piece of her wanted someone, a real live friend, that she could be herself with. With what had to be the hundredth sigh of the day, she settled back into her hard-backed chair and curled the letter up. Yet even as she tied the finishing knot, Silveriat couldn't help but wonder and dread who 'herself' would really become away from 'home' her at the Raines Manor.
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So yeah, this chapter wasn't the speediest of paces. It has a lot of important set up details though, so that I can actually start picking up with plot action. More exciting things will happen in the next chapters, I believe this is the last 'set up' I'm doing.
Also, extra cookies [as in I'll let you name a future character] to anyone who can tell me what a courageous owl and the name 'Bottle' have anything to do with each other. :D I'll give you a hint- google both the definitions of 'courageous' and Bottle.