I don't like to post ANs at the beginning of the chapter but I own you all an apology for my sudden disappearance. I had to rewrite a good chunk of my thesis because my Evernote crashed at the same time I lost some files on my computer. However, I still had most of it saved on my e-mail (god bless old-style technology) and could quickly wrap it up once again (after losing some sleep). I finally wrote everything up, overcame the incredible hurdle that is University Bureaucracy™ and I'm free until the end of December. So, I'll try to speed up things a little for us, posting another chapter this week and two or three more each week until we get back on track. Thank you for your patience and for believing in this story, and specially thank you all who reviewed, followed and favorited Thesmophoria. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please check out the end-of-chapter notes for some talk about my goals with this chapter and the story in the whole.
The train whistled thrice before finally stopping at Hogsmeade Station. At that, all the doors opened by themselves and the bustling of activity drowned any conversation. Harry carefully picked all the trash in their compartment and stuffed it in his pocket. A disembodied voice rattled through copper pipes all over the train, informing them to leave their trunks and pets in their compartments. He rubbed his cheek and Hermione looked at him guiltily.
When he had come back to their compartment, he had profusely apologized for the invasion of their privacy. Hermione had forgiven him, then had slapped him hard on his face for his comment about her underwear, then had hugged him and apologized for the slap. Overwhelmed by her abrupt mood shifts, he patted her head just like he would do with Cassie and asked for forgiveness again. Susan didn't seem to mind the eyeful he got from her unclad bum and Daphne had made peace with him after threatening him with manual non-magical castration if he ever pulled that stunt again. He made promises with fingers crossed on his back.
After that, they had fallen in comfortable silence, reading books or watching the afternoon become dusk and dusk to become night. It was pitch-black outside when the train stopped.
They disembarked and tried hard not to be carried by the mass of students in black. Someone was calling for First Years, so Harry and the girls trudged away from the door and tried to manoeuvre between the older students. Someone's pointy hat almost poked Harry on the eye, Susan tripped twice and Hermione was shoved by some teens who were playing around with a Quaffle. Her PG-safe muttering made him smile.
The man calling the younger students was huge. Harry had never seemed someone that large before, a mountain of muscle and hair, his black beard long enough to be tucked under his belt, hair like a thorn bush crawling down his enormous back and thrusting forward at every possible direction, a robe made of a patchwork of furs and leathers. Harry assumed the man was at least a half-giant, as he as twice as tall as a normal adult man and at least three times as large. A hand the size of a trashcan lid waved them over, the other carried a lantern big enough for Cassie to crawl inside.
"Firs' Years! Firs' Years com' here! Oh! There you are. Com' closer!"
There were around a hundred kids around the man, none reached even his waist. Harry remembered his mother telling him a story about a gentle man she was friends with but there was something about health hazard on that story… Cakes? Something about cakes? He couldn't remember, it was terribly hard to pull stories about her Hogwarts years from his mother, it had been years since the last one. The man smiled at them, his black, liquid-like eyes were gentle and cheery, so different from the look he had imagined a giant would have.
"Welcome' to 'Ogwarts!" The man exclaimed, opening his arms and almost knocking over a small pudgy boy. "Sorry, lad. Well, the name is Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds of 'Ogwarts. Since who knows how long, the First Years cross the Black Lake by boat on their first day of school. So, take one of those, no more than four per boat. Go on!"
With the last older students leaving, they finally could hear the sound of water. Near the station, a small pier had around thirty boats attached to it, bobbing gently on the water. The First Years moved behind Hagrid, trying their best to embark without falling on the icy black waves. The wind was picking up some force, and they tittered under their cloaks and robes. Harry jumped inside one of the boats and extended his hand for Hermione, who took it gladly with a nervous smile. After her, Susan and Daphne followed, making the boat rock madly under their movements. It was a tight fit, even for slender children like them. Susan dipped her hand in the water, shivering and yelping, making Daphne sigh. Hermione was holding the wooden border so tight her knuckles were becoming white.
At Hagrid's order, all the boats lurched forward, coming into formation all on their own, a big triangle of boats with the giant's as its head. The only light came from the lantern Hagrid had affixed on a mast on his huge boat, swinging under the caress of the wind. The lake was so dark they couldn't see anything under the waters. The boats were describing a big circle, not too fast but with good speed, never breaking from their perfect formation.
There was an arch of stone on the lake, ivy hanging low from it, almost touching the water. Harry looked up but it was too dark to see what the arch was, probably the underside of some bridge. Hagrid's voice was booming over the water sounds and the wind.
"After that, you'll' have your firs'view of 'Ogwarts! Careful with the 'eads!"
Harry lowered his head so the wet ivy wouldn't touch him, Hagrid was too tall for it to work and had pushed aside the plants with his hand. There was a gasp of surprise and Harry raised his gaze. At his side, Hermione seemed entranced.
Hogwarts was huge, bright and beautiful. Perched at the top of a precipice, the castle was lit from inside, thousands of windows cascading light and revealing its incredible architecture: towers and roofs, slates and passages, bridges and balconies were strewed all over, bending in impossible shapes, making the castle seem almost like a dream suspended in the dark sky. They kept staring at it, bending backwards to see its beautiful grey form, until they disappeared through another arch, one carved directly on the face of the precipice. After a while, the boats arrived at an underground pier, slowing down until they gently hit the stone and ropes snaked in the air tying them in place. This time, Daphne helped them out, as she was closer to the pier. The boathouse seemed to be a natural cave, their steps echoing loudly. Someone had carved rough steps on the stone and they trudged upstairs, Hagrid once again leading them.
Their steps echoed in the great chamber, the darkness surrounded them. There was a loud flutter of wings, probably bats hiding in the ceiling, and Hermione's hand grasped his so tight he felt his fingers going numb. He squeezed her hand back and gave her a reassuring smile. She nervously smiled back.
They left through an unremarkable wooden door, the natural cave giving away to stone and mortar. From its colour, the castle had been erected with the same stone as the precipice, as the great rectangular blocks were the same grey as the cavern walls. The corridor was damp, its ceiling low and oppressive, greenish light emanating from torches too far away from each other to properly lit the place. There was no smell of smoke, however, and no soot on the ceiling over the flames, showing they were magical. However, as magical everlasting fire produced no heat, the dungeon-like corridor was cold.
Another door greeted them, a larger one, reinforced with iron beams and huge black nails. Hagrid took the iron knocker and thumped it heavily on the thick wood. The sound was so loud a pudgy boy jumped in fear.
The latch screeched and the door swung open, a tall, slender witch opening it from outside. She was dressed in an elegant emerald-green dress robe, pointy shoes and a big hat topped with a wide feather. Her brunette, greying hair was tied on the back of her head in a tight bun, sharp eyes staring at them behind small wire glasses.
"The Firs' Years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid announced. The woman nodded tightly.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from now. Please, follow me."
They marched behind her, the witch's presence alone holding them in line and quiet. The door led to an open hall, so huge one couldn't even look at the ceiling, big enough to fit an entire cathedral inside. There were giant columns here and there and a gorgeous staircase made from something that looked like marble. Iron-wrought candelabras illuminated the room with soft, warm light, floating in the air with nothing to suspend them. As they passed one of the large columns, larger than Hagrid in diameter, Harry saw parchments glued to the stone, like posters. He couldn't read them, however, as Professor McGonagall walked briskly and there was no way in hell he would be left behind under her watch. She didn't look like the kind of witch one wants to annoy.
The Professor led them to a small room right next to a huge set of wood doors. It was a tight fit and the room was barren, just grey stone walls and ceiling, a couple of candles floating above their heads. She closed the door and turned to them, her long fingers brushing the tight bun of hair on the back of her neck, the black net contrasting beautifully with her strains of silver between the brown.
"As the deputy headmistress and resident master of transfiguration, is my pleasure to welcome you to Hogwarts," she started, her tone even and low, but carrying easily to the back of the room. Her presence reminded Harry of his own mother and he could easily see why Lily praised that woman so much. The redhead incorporated the same demeanour when lecturing him on magic. "In a moment, you'll be sorted into one of our four Houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Every house has a very long history and its own legacy, a legacy you will be asked to hold while you are at Hogwarts, and even beyond these halls. During your time in this school, your House will be your family, your victories will be shared with your housemates, as will your faults: good behaviour is awarded points to your house, while mischief makes all your housemates suffer from the loss of their hard-earned points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. Also, every House has a professor as its Head, so if you have a hard time accommodating, have questions or concerns, or just want to have some adult advice, don't refrain to consult your Head of House. Every House also has six Prefects, fellow housemates that will be happy to assist you. You will meet everyone after the banquet. For the Sorting—"
"Yes!" Interrupted someone near the front. Harry couldn't believe it and from the gasps from the girls around him, neither could them. Biting his lips hard not to burst out laughing, Harry watched Draco Malfoy swagger to the front of the group. "It's great you touched that point, ma'am. Somehow, the Prefects forgot to give us the Sorting Quiz, almost condemning us to never be sorted! As the son of Lucius Malfoy, Head of the Board of Governors, I can't help but bring this matter to light. Me and my friends had to write our answers from a copy a generous fellow lent us."
"My friends and I" Hermione muttered beside him, making it even harder for Harry to reign in his laughter. When Draco thrust the parchment with his answers alongside a very particular roll with the Quiz, Susan doubled over behind Daphne, wringing in her spot, her face as red as a tomato from the effort to not let a sound escape.
Professor McGonagall glanced at the parchment.
"I fear your generous fellow played a childish prank on you, Mr Malfoy," the boy's face turned grey, green, yellow, red and grey again. "There is no paper test involved in the Sorting process. I also assure you your brand of shampoo doesn't impact your House selection."
Daphne gave a minuscule cough, covering her mouth daintily with her long sleeve. There was a strain around her eyes from holding all that laughter inside. Hermione had covered her face with her hands. She had suggested that one. Harry bet Draco had chosen "muggle tears".
"Now, as I was saying, the Selection will start shortly. I will return to fetch you when we are ready. For now, please use this time to smarten yourselves up."
She turned around and left the small room, closing the door behind her. Harry noticed the professor had taken the parchment with her. He hoped it would be passed around the faculty instead of investigated. Hermione would kill him if he got her in trouble before school even started.
"So, Malfoy, what was it?"
"What?" Spat the boy, turning around. A sandy-haired boy was smiling predatorily back on him.
"The shampoo? The one that makes you a big, strong Slytherin boy? Is it snake spit?"
It seemed Draco Malfoy had already made some enemies during his childhood. Harry needed to grasp quickly the interactions between his classmates, as he had been isolated from the wizarding world for all his life. From the looks of it, the tall boy with sandy hair wasn't part of Draco's fanbase and was powerful or foolish enough to make it crystal clear.
"Shut up, Macmillan. When my father hears of this travesty, heads will roll. And if I discover you have something with this…"
While the boys bickered in front of everybody, Harry used the confusion to quickly assess his yearmates. Most of the boys and girls looked mildly interested in the fight but they didn't seem to stand out in any way. His plans needed him to focus on the important players while ignoring the bulk. Besides Malfoy, but inching away from him little by little, a contemplative expression on her face was a girl with a raven bob cut hair, her small nose wrinkled in a semi-permanent face of disgust. Crabble and Goyle looked like part of the stonework, faces blank. Probably they hadn't even noticed they were pranked. Macmillan was loud, mocking and had a group of boys and girls cheering him on. A leader, whichever his House would be. Draco seemed to have his own power base, but the scene unfolding before them seemed to be making them weaver. Children are children, they wouldn't want to follow the class clown. A tall, tanned boy was watching the fight with open disdain, a smaller girl by his side was laughing hard to the point of tears streaming down her face.
Some looked confused by it all, probably muggleborns. A small boy with a large nose seemed to be calculating some kind of plan. A pair of twins were muttering between them. Twins, nice. A tiny Chinese girl was reading patterns on the stone wall. A boy with brunette hair was reading a book, seated on the floor. And the pudgy boy he had seen earlier seemed to be a little green on the face, his back glued to the wall. He had his cloak clasped right under his left ear.
The door creaked open and all shouts died out. Professor McGonagall gestured, making the children file out the room. As they were leaving, ghosts burst through the wall, chatting among themselves. Susan jumped a little, then took his hand and clasped it tightly. Harry gave her a reassuring smile but held her hand the entire way to the great wooden doors to the left of the Entrance Hall.
The Great Hall was packed full with students from all four Houses, sitting along four long tables. At the back of the hall, another long table was set, the professors watching the new students with mild interest. At the centre of the table, on a golden throne, an ancient wizard was seated, his long snow-white beard almost on his plate. He was wearing purple robes with bright silver stars that moved over the cloth, a big pointy hat completing the set.
Harry was distracted from his observations by the enchanted ceiling, a perfect copy of the night sky, stars shining and stormy clouds rumbling from far away. Hermione said something to Daphne, but he couldn't hear it. The enchanted sky was too beautiful, globes of warm yellow light floating in the air, illuminating the entire hall. It was like walking into a dream.
There was a stool in front of the faculty table, a tattered wizard hat on it. After the First Years fell in line, the hall quieted down, all eyes glued to the small piece of fabric. Harry wondered if it was an enchanted item. His answer came almost immediately, as a rip near the brim opened up, as a mouth, and the hat started to sing.
It was a strange song, about the houses and their qualities, coupled with some dull jokes. From Professor McGonagall's face, she was barely tolerating it. As the hat finished, everybody started to clap, Dumbledore being the most enthusiastic.
"When I call your name, come to the front, sit on the stool and put on the Sorting Hat. After being sorted, sit with your housemates," the deputy headmistress instructed, raising a long roll of parchment. "Abbot, Hannah."
A red-faced girl with blonde pigtails rushed forward, sat on the stool and let the professor drop the hat on her head. It was big enough to cover her eyes. After a few seconds, the mouth ripped open again and announced "Hufflepuff!". The second table to the right burst in cheers and welcomed the overwhelmed new badger.
Susan was called next, her sweaty hand leaving Harry's own. She put on a brave face before walking towards the stool. The hat took a little bit longer, before deciding her to be a Hufflepuff too. Terry Boot, the boy with the book from earlier, became the first Ravenclaw, the third table clapping loud. It was the fifth name, however, that raised Harry's interest.
Upon calling, Lavender Brown stepped forward, the hall filling with whisperings. Some of the girls were standing up to look at her. Harry couldn't see anything really interesting with the girl: she was pretty, wearing a bit of makeup enough to reinforce her natural beauty, her robes seeming made of finer material than most, something not uncommon for a Pureblood. She had bleached blonde hair, brown eyes a little darker than Hermione's and a big bust for a girl her age. While Harry could perfectly understand the healthy interest in breasts, it wasn't enough to explain why the girls seemed to be in front of a celebrity.
"Gryffindor!"
The table on the far left boomed loudly and the girls, in particular, seemed to be ecstatic. The Slytherin females looked sick. Instead of sitting in the space at the end of the table reserved for the "firsties", the older lionesses made her sit with them. Harry scratched his head in confusion. He had studied the main players in his year, a list compiled by his mother from newspaper articles and rumours. He knew the names and some background information about the Purebloods. He had already snatched the only muggleborn interesting enough to shake the magical world. Who was that Brown girl?
McGonagall, however, wasn't inclined to gossiping, marching on with the sorting. Millicent Bulstrode, the tallest and bulkiest First Year, was sorted on Slytherin, the table on the far right side of the Hall clapping politely. The small laughing girl from earlier, now called Tracey Davis, became a Slytherin, which made Daphne give a small smile. Gregory Goyle became a Slytherin too, and then it was Hermione's turn.
Harry gave her a smile, but she couldn't return it. She walked with her head held right, although. The hat took a long time to decide, making him worry a little bit. Finally, the rip loudly proclaimed "Gryffindor!", and Hermione skipped happily toward the red and golden table. Daphne was already moving forward when Professor McGonagall called, the hat barely touching her head before sorting her into Slytherin. The Chinese girl became a Ravenclaw. The shy pudgy boy, trembling from head to toe, became a Gryffindor after almost three minutes, and he was probably so happy with it he had rushed down to the table while still wearing the hat. Under thunderous laughter, he walked back and returned the hat to the very unamused professor.
Draco Malfoy, his shampoo notwithstanding, became a Slytherin as he wished, however, he seemed a lot less enthusiastic about the Sorting. He kept turning his head, scanning openly the crowd, searching for him. The calculating boy, Theodore Nott, soon became his housemate. Pansy Parkinson, Draco's supporter with the disgusted face, went to Slytherin too, sitting beside the boy. The twins were split: Parvati took a sit near Hermione, while Padma Patil sat down as a Ravenclaw. And then…
"Potter, Harry."
The hall once again was filled with whispers, his new shoes squeaking loudly against the polished stone floor. Harry kept his head forward, trying hard to ignore the pointing fingers and the mutterings. In the four last versions of the Halloween Talk, he had heard how his name was known by every wizard and witch around Britain and far beyond. The perspective was as daunting that night as it was all those years before. However, he was not a common boy, he was not an unprepared wizard. His mother was a Goddess, and he would be one of hers Apostles. He was going to change the world, so he could handle a little bit of unwanted fame. He took a sit on the stool, the hat brim falling before his eyes.
A voice resounded inside his head.
Interesting, very interesting!
Are you reading my mind?
Reading your mind? Why, pray tell, would I read your mind to Sort you, boy?
Harry felt like the hat was teasing him a little. Ancient artefacts were very fickle things and God knows where the thing would put him in if he offended it. Carefully, Harry tried to answer.
Well, won't you search through my memories, trying to understand my personality? Isn't it what is needed to sort me?
The hat laughed openly inside his head, but it was such a sincere laugh he hardly was offended by it.
How Freudian of you! Many children come with some conceptions about my workings, but it's always funny! Well, Mr Potter, I don't have interest in your memories. But, as you seem interested, do you know what is a habit?
Habit? Is it… well, the way you always do something? Like taking a shower before going to bed, like my sister does?
A habit is a little bit more than that, Mr Potter. It's the way you are going to react to something when thrust into a certain situation. It's created by your beliefs, your experiences, your knowledge. Habits are entangled inside you, just waiting for the right conditions to make you react in a certain pattern. Right now, I'm testing your habits, deep in your mind, when your upper conscious can't interfere. I present you with those conditions and see how your habits make you react. Your actions, not your memories, tell me who you are.
Harry was stunned by it, and relieve his precious secrets weren't exposed to the hat. His mother had said the Sorting process was magically bound and no information could be leaked, even to Dumbledore, but he had been afraid for their numerous secrets.
So I can't interfere with the Sorting? Like ask for a House?
Do you know where do you want to go? Stay with a friend, perhaps? Well, you easily can make friends, so probably you already have some, from the trip. Maybe go to Slytherin, where you can help Daphne, dethrone Draco and pave the way for your sister?
How do you know about them?
That, Mr Potter, would be telling.
…Fine. Well, Slytherin would be an interesting choice but I would also have to keep glancing over my shoulder the entire time, and probably would raise Dumbledore's suspicious. He already had a Slytherin student going bad before, he would keep an eye on me to avoid a repetition. And, well, I've just met Daphne, but I have a feeling she knows how to handle herself. Draco is already getting down on his own, and Cassie doesn't need her path paved. So, no Slytherin for me.
Very well, you have a certain way with words and have a very clear mind. Ravenclaw?
I have no interest in knowledge for knowledge sake. I'm different from my mother.
I see. Hufflepuff is out too, you wouldn't fit in in that House. You want to lead, not to follow, and your loyalty is for your loved ones alone. That leaves me with your pride, your strength, and your bold plans for this world. There are so many inside your head, you keep yourself very occupied. Plans inside plans inside plans. A labyrinth just like your mother. I was enchanted not to give away my opinions, except during my songs, but if I could say something… I would say I like the harem plan the most.
It's my pride and joy.
Let me know if it works out. Gryffindor!
Harry took out the hat under deafening applause, the Gryffindor table clapping and booming, hitting the wood surface with their fists and chanting "we've got Potter! We've got Potter!" He took a sit beside Hermione, who squeezed his hand. There were no surprises after that. After "Zambini, Blaise" was sorted, the stern professor took the hat and the stool away, returning quickly as Dumbledore stood up, his long beard touching the tabletop even as he was standing. He raised his arms as if trying to embrace the whole Hall, the warm yellow light reflecting brilliantly on his small half-moon glasses, making his eyes sparkle. Even before seeing him do magic, just from that gesture alone, Harry realized Dumbledore was a powerful wizard.
"Welcome! Welcome to Hogwarts! There is a lot for us to talk about, but that's for after the banquet. For now, I just want to say a few words, and here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."
As he took his seat, the first years glanced around, trying to make some sense from the Headmaster's words, while the older students rolled with it. Hermione looked dazzled by it all, shaking her head furiously as the plates, trays and terrines magically filled with food in front of their eyes. Harry shrugged and took some mashed potatoes.
"I've read about you," Hermione whispered, her body close to his, as she reached for the green peas. He smiled at her.
"I assure you I'm much more interesting personally."
The Irish boy, Seamus Finnegan, was waving his wand over the goblet, his voice getting louder at each repetition of some kind of rhyme.
"Eye of the rabbit, harp string hum, turn this water into rum!"
He peeked inside the goblet, but couldn't see any change to its contents.
"Are you sure this is a real spell?" Hermione asked, her cheeks still a tad red. "It doesn't sound like anything I've read before."
"Oh, I'm sure you read everything there is to know before coming here, girlie" barked the boy, making Hermione shrink under his stare. "Excuse me for interrupting your banquet with my spell!"
"Shut up, Finnegan, you know she is right," Harry cut in, feeling annoyed at the boy. Hermione still had her head lower, but her hand inched towards his under the table, he grasped it tightly. "Also, you can't transfigure water into alcohol."
"Why not?" Asked the dark-skinned boy sitting beside Finnegan. Harry thought he was called Tom or something. Hermione perked up a little bit.
"It's because magic cannot create carbohydrates, like sugar, one of the main ingredients to making distilled beverages like rum. It's one of the Five Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elementary Transfiguration, i.e., things that cannot be created entirely from magic: food, blood, semen, ovules and life."
Finnegan and a good portion of the nearby students were looking at her with their mouths hanging open. Hermione seemed to quickly get uncomfortable with their stares. She moved her head closer to Harry's so she could whisper again.
"Isn't it common knowledge?"
"For an adult, yes. But I think their surprise is because you said 'semen'".
"What! Oh, this is so juvenile."
One of the stunned boys started to laugh. Harry was pretty sure he had heard about that one, something about his father… He had ginger hair, a long nose and a smudge on his left cheek from the chicken drum he still had in his hand. He used the meat to point at Hermione, something that made her back away immediately to avoid flying bits and oil.
"You must be the bravest girl I've ever met, Granger."
"Uh?"
"Yep," he nodded, taking a bite of his chicken. "With a big brain like that, and you came here instead of the birdhouse, you must be bold as they come."
Not knowing if that should be taken as a compliment or not, and a little bit disgusted by him talking with his mouth full, she blushed and looked back at her plate.
"So, Weasley," called the Irish boy, getting out of his funk from the earlier exchange. "Ready to show us some new wacky wonder?"
"It's Weasley's Wizarding Wonders, you wanker."
"Language!" Called Hermione. Harry hid his laugh inside his napkin. Weasley nodded an apology. "Wizarding Wonders?"
Thankfully, he swallowed before answering.
"My father's work. He's an inventor. See those round things emitting light above our heads? It's his work. Luciglobes, we call'em. Produce no heat, only stable, warm yellow light, just like a candle but with no fickler and no dripping. Every wizarding house has at least one and Hogwarts it's our biggest client. And that's not everything we make—"
"Yes. Like the crystal battery that randomly explodes," Finnegan interrupted. "Or the rubber duck that dies when the bathtub water is too dirty. Or that funny little chicken thing, you know, that one that set fire to your headquarters?"
"Shut up, Finnegan. Dad's got some wild ideas from time to time but most of his inventions are very useful. You are a wan— I mean, don't focus only on the bad ones."
"My mum paid invested a fortune in that blasted duck, Weasley, your father almost ruined us."
"Well, dad's working on a new kind of Luciglobe now, Finnegan. It runs on fat instead of magic. Please tell your mother it's her time to shine."
Finnegan threw a scone at Weasley, prompting a small food fight that took in the dark-skinned boy and a tiny girl with a pointy, elvish face. Hermione rolled her eyes at it, while Harry carefully prepared some pea ammunition in case their lines be breached.
"Parvati, are you okay? You aren't eating anything… I can't even imagine how awful it must be to be separated from your sister…"
The cinnamon-skinned girl with a long, ink-black ponytail turned back to Hermione, shaking her head as if distracted by something. She started to pile some food on her plate but kept glancing at something on her left, as if trying to see someone.
"What? Oh, no, Padma is great but I always wanted some space, you know? Sharing everything, including your room, with your nerd sister can be so dull. Do you think she will come here after? At least for dessert?"
"Who?"
Parvati rolled her eyes.
"Lavender Brown, who could it be? Those Fifth Years played it dirty, hogging her from the get-go. My cousin said Gryffindors share a dorm if it's true, do you mind if I got the bed next to hers?"
"Don't worry about it, but… Who is Lavender Brown? I mean, why are the girls so… interested in her?"
Parvati stilled her fork halfway to her mouth, before lowering it slowly, facing Hermione with wide, unbelieving eyes.
"You don't know who Lavender Brown is? Haven't you ever read Lilith?"
Hermione turned to Harry, frighten in her eyes at the prospect of missing some important literature.
"My sister reads it, I think is some kind of fashion magazine."
"You have a sister?" Parvati asked, looking interested. However, she immediately shook her head. "Doesn't matter. 'Some kind of fashion magazine'? And you never read it? In times like these, I can fully understand why the Modern Wizarding History Society pleads the Board of Governors for Lilith to be included in the obligatory reading list for muggleborns. I assure you it would greatly improve your lives."
Hermione looked to be crossing from confused to offended. However, Parvati had gathered some steam and carried on.
"Lilith is the guide for these troubled times we live in. It's the shining light in a world of darkness and frilled purple robes. It's the only beacon we witches have to save us from social failure. Lilith is the sacred book of fashion, and the Linda Brown is our Prophetess of Beauty."
"Linda Brown?"
"The Linda Brown, please. Her name is a legend in our world. Everybody knows her miraculous story: dropped out Hogwarts after her O.W.L.'s to take care of her dying mother, stuck at a dead-end job as a janitor at the Ministry, a single mother even before turning 17, an amateur photographer for hat catalogues during the weekends. Everything changed after she read Selene's book. The Witches' Sin changed her life, empowered her to take the plunge. She quit her job and invested all her savings in her only dream: she wrote, photographed, edited and printed the first edition of Lilith Magazine all by herself. Only five hundred copies, printed on the cheapest parchment possible and yet she sold all of them in a single week, at a makeshift newsstand in Diagon Alley. She invested all the money in the second edition the next month and so on and so on. A lone witch against the world, she built an imperium using only her own hands and her keen eye for what's it."
"It?"
"Yes, Granger. It. You know, when you go into a store and see all those robes, all those cuts and styles and layouts and colours but only one, only that one, is it. The Linda Brown knows what is it before anyone else. That's why those rags like Witch Weekly didn't stand a chance against her. She killed and buried her enemies with no effort. She isn't still alone, of course, there is an army of witches now working in the sacred temple of fashion: Lilith's Headquarters, Diagon Alley, 55th. And she isn't just finding things that are it, she also produces them, introducing the boldest fashion ever: earloops and stud earrings, chained rings, open-toe high-heels, olympic sandals… And don't even get me started on the cuts! The fairy cut, bell sleeve, crossover back, pleated robes, peep-robes and, this summer, the angle-back, all from the incredible mind of the Linda Brown."
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were sparkling and her slim body was shaking from the force of her adoration. Harry had seen obsessed and crazy people before (he lived with three of them, after all) but Parvati Patil was truly a fashion freak.
"And now, and now we have the only daughter of the Linda Brown between us. Can you even understand the impact of this? Of course, Lilith cut down Teenage Witch Weekly too, teenage fashion is a must in its pages but Lilith is by and to adult witches. The Lavender Brown, the heiress of Lilith Imperium is among us. Whatever comes from her mind can impact the lives of thousands of young witches all across Europe! And we, you and I, can be the first followers to bask in this glory! If just those flabby bints would stop hogging our new Prophetess…!"
"I… Well… I'm sure you'll have lots of opportunities to talk to her, Parvati," Hermione assured, looking like a woman accidentally caught in the middle of a raving cult session. "And I'll make sure you get the bed just next to hers."
Parvati squeezed Hermione against her, squeeing loudly. The elvish girl seemed jealous about it all, as it was the blonde girl next to her, both probably coming from magical families and already part of the Lilith Cult, as Harry started to dub it. A girl with square glasses looked disinterested by it all but not confused by Parvati's explanation. With Lavender Brown rounding the numbers up, Hermione was the only muggleborn Gryffindor First Year. It would be hard on her. Harry was glad she had opened up to him so quickly.
As the banquet went on, Harry turned his eyes to the head table. He could see Hagrid at one end, his huge body making it easy to find him. At the centre, Dumbledore was eating with gusto, his beard tossed over his shoulder so it would not fall down on his plate. At his side, Professor McGonagall was cutting her steak with surgeon-like precision, talking low with a pudgy witch wearing a wide yellow hat. While he watched them talk, a tall dark-skinned woman next to the pudgy one leaned in and added something to the talk. The witch with the yellow hat burst into giggles. At Dumbledore's other side, a slim man was picking curiously at a piece of meat pie. Next to him, a lanky, grey man was looking hungrily at the students, his plate empty.
"Parvati, Hermione, do you know who is that? The ominous looking guy?"
"That's Severus Snape, the Potions professor," Parvati informed without even looking back. "I've heard nasty things about him, and some girls even said he never washed his hair in his life! He holds a huge grudge against Astronomy Professor, Aurora Sinistra, because she took the position of Head of Slytherin from him, years back."
"Parvati, I think Harry's talking about the one that's not eating anything, the one with the pinstriped green and grey suit. I've never seen one, of course, but I think the man is a vampire."
"What?" Weasley shouted, making a good part of the table look at them. Hermione shrunk again against Harry's side. The boy toned it down, noticing the eyes on him. "Sorry, I mean, why is there a vampire here?"
Hermione shrugged as Harry took a piece of treacle tart for dessert. Parvati's wish stayed unfulfilled, as Lavender Brown was kept by the fifth years. Hermione selected a fruit bowl while Parvati seemed to have forgotten about the food again. It was no wonder the girl was so slim. Weasley had a mountain of dessert on his plate and was currently adding banana slices to his ice-cream topped lemon pie. Finnegan was unhappily digging on a cranachan that Harry was sure had no whisky on it, or else the elves would really get in trouble with the Ministry.
As the last bite of dessert disappeared from the plates, leaving no crumble or stain behind, the Headmaster stood up once again, looking a little bit more serious.
"Dear new students, welcome to Hogwarts! To our returning students, welcome back! Now, I know you are tired and sleepy but I have some announcements to make before sending you all to your warm beds. As most of you should know by now, the Forbidden Forest is, as its name suggests, forbidden to all students. Mr Filch, our janitor, has affixed a list of banned items on his office door, last I heard it contained a little more than three hundred and ninety items, so please check on it as soon as possible! Quidditch tryouts are held at the end of the month, keep an eye on the notice board in your common rooms for it. I also want to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, best-selling author and vampire expert Eldred Worple and his blood-brother, Mr Sanguini."
Professor Worple was a tall, lanky wizard with long greying hair and a thick moustache. He waved happily and bowed to the applause from the students but Harry could see the emaciated grey man at his side was getting anxious, forcing Worple to discreetly pin the man down with a strong grip on his shoulder.
"Yes, thank you Professor Worple for accepting to share your knowledge with our students and thank you Mr Sanguini for coming. We also have another introduction, as the returning students may know. Mr Hilliard, if you could please come here?"
A stocky Fifth Year rose from Ravenclaw table and marched towards the Headmaster, exulting confidence. He had blonde hair and striking ice-blue eyes on an amicable face, strong arms under his long sleeves showing a disposition for hard physical work very uncommon among the 'claws. He faced the students, standing before the head table, his voice strong and a little bit husky, as if he had already talked a lot that day.
"Thank you Professor Dumbledore, my name is Robert Hilliard and I'm the newly elected Head of the Studentgamot. In the last few years, the main role of the Studentgamot has been the careful and just management of Hogwarts Club System budget, making sure every club is properly funded so to exercise its activities. This is the challenge I've inherited from the founder of the Studentgamot, Lydia Blackreach: to tirelessly support our 21 clubs and 4 Quidditch teams, so they can continue to be not only unreplaceable learning environments and fun extra-curricular activities but also a powerful tool to foster inter-house unity. To be worthy of this vote of confidence lent to me by 78% of the student population in the election last term, our new Studentgamot will work towards a deeper integration with the Prefect System and the Hogwarts faculty and staff, bringing more space and security to our clubs and also reducing the costs of our Fairs in November and May. All of this is only possible thanks to the tireless work of our Studentgamot staff and the openness of the Board of Governors and the Hogwarts faculty and staff. So, thank you all for your work and let's continue towards a bright new future at Hogwarts!"
Under loud applause, the boy bowed gracefully and returned to his table. Parvati leaned conspiratorially over the table.
"I've heard Hilliard turned down the Prefect badge just to be the Studentgamot Head."
Weasley and Finnegan's responses to that where drowned by Dumbledore's voice.
"So, before ending this year's Welcome Feast, let us sing the school anthem! Everybody, pick your favourite tune!"
The old man cheerfully brandished his wand, making words appear in the air, floating silver ribbons twisting and turning to become letters. Judging by the professors' faces, the decision wasn't very popular. The students stood up and started to sing, everybody in their own time and tune, turning the whole thing into a cacophony of off-key notes and shouted words. Harry quickly gave up on accompanying that mess, and just lip-dubbed it. After most of the school finished, a single pair of redhead twins marched on, singing the anthem in a terrible, low death march. From Weasley's head shakes, the pair was close family with him. Dumbledore, however, seemed to be enjoying it. He brushed a tear from his eye, as the last ribbon slowly disappeared into the air.
"Ah, music! A magic deeper and more mysterious than any we teach here! Now, to bed the lot of you. First Years, please stay seated, your Prefects will escort you to your Houses."
As the older students left and the long tables emptied up, Parvati waved to lone blonde girl near the middle of the table, trying to beckon her closer but she ignored them and kept her gaze fixed on the head table.
"Little bit snotty your Prophetess, eh?" Finnegan provoked, making the dark-skinned boy at his side swallow a laugh. Parvati blushed but did not retort. Another ginger boy approached them, an impossibly shiny Prefect badge pinned on his robe. Probably some kind of spell.
"First Years, welcome to Hogwarts!" He started. Harry supposed he was Weasley's older brother, as their eyes were the same colour, but the boy sounded very posh, unlike the rougher First Year. "My name is Percival Weasley and I'll be your guide tonight through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts!"
"Did you steal this speech from the Knight Bus tourist guide?" Weasley asked, interrupting his (now confirmed) brother. "I'm dead on my feet, Percy, let's go."
"Ronald." Intoned the boy, his ears flaming red while the children laughed openly. "As crass as ever. Well, as you wish. Follow me."
Percy seemed to get in a funk, as he didn't utter a single word the entire time. He also probably had a very mean streak, as he rushed through the halls, walking briskly and taking many turns without no warning. It was impossible for them to remember the path to the Gryffindor House, as more than once Percy seemed to randomly choose a door, a corridor, a staircase or even cross through a tapestry that was just an illusion. The stairways moved, the corridors were longer than they could physically be, some stairs going up actually went down, others that were clearly going down actually made they go to the next upper floor. It was maddening and Harry wondered how they would go down to breakfast the next morning.
Seemly at random, Percy stopped in front of a painting, in the middle of the corridor. Hogwarts walls were littered with paintings, pictures and sometimes even busts, all of them talking, moving, waving, trading places inside their frames and welcoming them. The painting in front of them was almost touching the floor, huge and framed in gold. A large woman in a horrible purple dress had been painted on it, sitting on a tiny chair with strained thin legs. She waved a hand loaded with gaudy golden and scarlet rings.
"Password, dear?"
"Caput Draconis," intoned Percy. She gave him a wink, before the whole painting swung inwards, revealing a round hole in the wall, big enough to fit an adult inside. Percy marched inside and the First Years followed him, some stumbling as the hole didn't reach all the way down and they had to lift their legs and straddle it a little as they were still too short to walk in comfortably. As their robes went down to their ankles and had no opening, it was quite the ungraceful act to enter their House.
The common room, as the Headmaster had called it, was a huge, perfectly circular space littered with chairs, sofas, tables and bookcases. It was clear they were inside one of the castle's towers, a giant fireplace crackling merrily and huge windows blessing them with a spectacular view of the lake and the gardens, even during the night. Floating luciglobes gave a warm light to the whole place, making it a comfortable room to study, read and pass the time. Some older students were still up, talking around the fire or playing cards at one of the tables. Percy pointed to a set of spiral stairs to his left.
"That way is the boys' dorms. At the other side of the tower, that set of stairs lead to the girls' dorms. You cannot enter other people's dorms, and boys are prohibited to visit the girls'. Breakfast starts at six, classes at nine. Tomorrow morning you will get your hour tables, please don't be late for breakfast. Near the fireplace is the notice board, keep an eye on it every day for news, password changes and general notices. You cannot bring people from other Houses here. You cannot divulge the House location or password. You cannot go inside other Houses even if you discover where they are. If you lose or forget the password, you will have to wait in front of the Fat Lady until someone opens the painting for you. Your things are already inside your dorm room. You cannot switch beds. Goodnight."
The boy turned around and quickly went upstairs. The dark-skinned boy whistled low.
"That's a man who is easy to irk. Weasley, I pity you."
"Shut up, Tomas. Well, I'll go to bed, goodnight fellas."
"Want to have breakfast together? We can have Daphne and Susan sit with us." Harry asked, noticing Hermione looked a little bit shy about proposing it herself. She was new at that whole friend thing, he remembered. Her smile paid his effort off.
"Of course! See you at, let's see, seven o'clock?"
"I won't be late. Goodnight, Hermione. Don't get in trouble for switching beds."
"Well, Mr Weasley won't know, will he? Boys can't get inside our dorms, his words, not mine," she winked at him, making the boy laugh. "Also, just between us, but I'm afraid Parvati will murder me in my sleep if I get the bed next to Brown's."
With a last wave, they parted and Harry trudged upstairs alongside the rest of the boys. The circular staircase led them to a first landing where a door was assigned as the First Year one. Inside, a circular room with an iron stove at the centre to provide heat during winter, four-poster beds and their trunks at the foot of each one. A door led to a communal bathroom. Harry's bed was the first one, right next to the door. He opened his trunk and dug out his pyjamas while Weasley and Finnegan used the bathroom.
"The guys told me you are famous…" the dark-skinned boy started. "But I couldn't understand it really well…"
"Uh, in truth my mother is the famous one," Harry explained, straining a smile. "She died to protect me and her magic became… A sort of protection within me. It never happened before like this, so people got curious about it. But, well, I was just a baby, I can't remember anything about it."
The boy looked horrified, something that put him on Harry's good books straight up.
"I— I'm so sorry. I had no idea—", he rubbed his hair with his hand in pure frustration. "Look, I'm sorry for even asking. Can you, I don't know, just forget about it?"
"It's okay. No, really. I'm at peace with it now. The pointing and the stares are a little annoying but I can handle it. You shouldn't be ashamed for asking questions. I'm not mad."
"Well, even if you say so, I'm sorry. I'm totally new to this magic thing, a whole world hidden from view! My mother is a kindergarten teacher, my dad works in construction. They were mindblown about this all and, well, if not for this foundation thing that offered me a full scholarship, I don't think I would be here. I've so many questions but I fear I'll keep stumbling on these horrible mistakes…"
Harry slapped his back, making him straighten up.
"Well, you can always ask me. I'm no authority in wizarding life, I've lived in the muggle world you see, but I know a thing or two. And if you make some mistake, I'll just kick your ass and things will be okay again."
"In the wizarding world, to have your ass kicked by Harry Potter is a great honour", Ron informed, exiting the bathroom. "You can always ask me, too. I've lived in the wizarding world all my life, and I have five older brothers. You will have to pick up the slack if you want to offend me."
"He has a sister too", Finnegan interjected. "Bit lil' young for my tastes, but a fine one if ya catch my meaning."
"Finnegan, one more word and I will throw you out the window. Dean, don't you worry about it. We are here for you, you know? We aren't slimy snakes that hate muggleborns. Just… whatever you do, never say you are a muggleborn to my father. He will fill you up with questions until you die."
Finnegan nodded.
"My dad is a muggle. Mother's a witch. His dad once came to my home. Filled my dad with idiotic questions about electro-city. The man is a genius, but completely barmy."
Weasley nodded sagely. He looked to the last member of the dorm, the pudgy boy that had tried to steal the hat.
"You don't say much, uh, mate? Muggleborn?"
The boy shook his head slowly. Harry frowned. He was a little bit short for an 11-year-old, a little too fat but what was strange was the nervous, skittish aura around him. He was trembling a little, his left hand, his feet, the twitch around his eye as if it were a nervous tick. The way he never met anyone's eyes, the way his long brown bangs would fall over, shadowing his face. The way his right arm…
"What happened to your hand, mate?"
The boy yelped and trembled even more. He was trying to hide his right arm behind his back, just like he had done the entire time. Tears swelled in his eyes but Dean crossed the room and hesitantly grasped his shoulder. The boy jerked a little, but Dean held on.
"Hey, mate, that's okay. You all right? Need some help?"
He opened his mouth but closed it before having a sound escape. He opened it again, took a deep breath.
"I-I-i st-stutter."
It was a painfully low and hesitant voice. Harry approached him too, slowly and in the least threatening way, before grasping his other shoulder. The skin under the robe was twisting and quivering.
"What's your name?"
"N-ne-nevi-lle."
"Neville?", the boy nodded. "Great, I'm Harry Potter. You don't need to be nervous, okay? As I said to Dean, you can bring any problem of yours to me. I take care of my friends."
Neville blushed and looked down, but nodded a little bit. He slowly seemed to unwind, his right arm coming to rest on his side. He took a deep breath.
"M-m-my arm. See? I h-h-hav'no… h-h-hand."
He lifted it a little bit but lowered the arm before they could see something. However, there was no hand peeking from under the sleeve. Harry frowned. Internal organs were hard to regrow but limbs were quite easy to recreate. Except if the limb had been severed by "dark magic". How could someone so young have been attacked by that kind of magic? Maybe a cursed item?
Feeling the mood plunging down, Weasley forced a smile.
"Well, it's still better than Finnegan, he has no brain."
Dean and Harry laughed at it and even Finnegan smiled a little bit. Neville gave a tiny smile, maybe more because Weasley didn't make a whole deal out of his disability.
"Well, guys, I'm knackered. See you in the morning. Hope Percy don't write home all whiny because I interrupted his effing speech. Getting a Howler on the first day will be my death."
"Howler?" Muttered Dean next to Harry.
"It's an enchanted letter that screams at you."
"You wizards are bonkers. Think there will be any problem if I glue some posters near my wall?"
"If there are no naked ladies on them, it's okay, I reckon."
Dean gave a fake sigh.
"Oh, well, at least I can glue half of them."
Laughing, Harry patted the skittish Neville on his back and prepared for bed.
When Cassie went to get breakfast, there was a body on the kitchen floor. He looked like a short man, wearing wizarding robes, lying facedown on a puddle of blood. She tapped it with her bare foot, twice. Not even a twitch.
"Wicked" she muttered to herself, before growing bored with it and walking to the fridge to get some milk. She was in a cereal mood that day.
As she tossed a ton of cereal into her bowl, her mother Apparated inside the kitchen with a loud crack. Her hair was wild, her eyes were huge and her clothes were very, very ruffled. She had her wand in her hand.
"Cassiopeia! What are you doing?"
"Bheqfhesh" she answered around a mouthful of delicious soggy cereal. It needed more milk.
"Did you touch the body?"
"Of course not, do I look stupid?"
"Good," her mother moved toward the kitchen and peeked through the closed curtains. "Go to your bedroom, take the first five clothes you can find inside your school backpack and come back here. We are leaving in three minutes."
"What? Why?"
"We are abandoning this house. It's not safe anymore."
"WHAT? WHY?"
"CASSIOPEIA! DO AS I AM—"
With an almost silent crack, Lily Apparated on the kitchen. She was wearing one of Bella's T-Shirts and pyjama shorts, her bare feet muddy.
"It's okay, we don't need to leave."
"But…"
"I could cover his tracks. Redirected all the Apparition points to somewhere else. He jumped around a lot before coming here. Also, he didn't know the house location, he just followed the Anchor. We are safe, just need to keep vigilant for more time. I never thought someone would try to apparate using the Anchor as destination. I'll fix the wards, nonetheless."
"What is happening?"
Lily turned to her, smiling a bit before ruffling her hair, something Cassie never tolerated from others.
"Bella, teach her."
"She is too young."
"She is a Black. Even more, she is your daughter. You know these things don't wait for you to be ready."
Her mothers hardly argued in front of them. It was one of their rules, even if they were wrong, the other would never correct her in front of the children. However, even since Harry had left the day before, things were bound to change. Bella sighed.
"Come here, Cassiopeia."
They crouched near the dead man's head.
"This one was an Initiated at the Temple. A Whisper-Chaser."
The Temple! Cassiopeia had only met a handful of the members of her mother's cult. She had never heard about whispers before but she knew her brother was destined to become one of the leaders of the cult, an Apostle. There were only two Apostles already, that's why her mother and Lily needed to keep going on missions to retrieve ancient knowledge or to "move the pieces" as Lily called it. One day, she would become an Apostle too, that was the promise she had made with Bella when she barely could talk. She would become an Apostle and gather her own followers, she would become one of the Twelve. Of course, the whole religious theme her mothers were so fond of was a little bit lame, in her opinion. She though a medieval theme would be more fun: a Queen instead of a Goddess, Princes instead of Apostles, Knights in the place of Followers. Well, to each their own.
Lily was laughing quietly on the back, stealing her cereal. Calm mind, quiet mind. Calm mind, quiet mind.
"Whisper-Chasers are people we Initiated but they are lower than Followers and even lower than Cultists. They keep an ear on the ground, searching for tidbits of interesting conversation and follow those leads. Sometimes, they struck gold and come with an interesting artefact or some sensitive information. Most of the time, they keep chasing steam. However, this one seems to have bitten something a little bigger than he could chew. See those markings on his neck? Snakebite. He suffered horribly with the poison coursing his veins but he was loyal enough to try to bring the information to us."
"What information?"
"I've been thinking about it this whole time. He lost his contact device and, as a simple Initiated, he didn't have direct contact with us. He knew he was dying, the chance of being able to survive enough to tell us something was null. And yet, carrying no message, no device, even no wand he bet everything on a never tried before Apparition using the Anchor as his goal instead of a place. He was lucky, his eminent death must have discharged some kind of accidental magic to help him along. Whisper-Chasers aren't good wizards or witches, he could never do it on his effort alone. However, I think I know what kind of information he brought us."
"The body."
Lily was eating her cereal! At least they had agreed in something, as she was pouring more milk on it. But it was her cereal!
"Yes," her mother, her own mother, the person that should defend her from all evil in the world wasn't even batting an eye at it! Whipped woman. Literally. She had heard.
Lily started coughing loudly. Serves you right.
"His own body is his message. Cassiopeia, attention."
She waved the wand over the puncture wound. A fine mist was sucked from it and flew inside a vial her mother had conjured. To perform two spells simultaneously. No wonder her mind was completely broken. She hoped one day she could be strong enough to perform two spells at the same time, even if she had to become raving mad like her mother. It would make Harry so proud of her, she was sure of it.
Talking about Harry, she wondered if he had already used her little present to alleviate his frustrations.
Lily started coughing again. Come on, woman, if you are going to steal cereal, at least eat it properly!
"This is venom," her mother was oblivious to her pledge. "Snake venom, a very potent one. I'd need to test it on our lab but, judging from where he was, we can say it's… him. He had a pet snake before, a thing he had twisted and corrupted with his magic until it became too deadly. It had a unique venom, it looked exactly like this. That thing was killed before his depowerment, so if this man died because of it… It means a lot of bad things, Lily."
"I'm thinking the same. Examine it, just for us to be sure. I'll alert the other Whisperers and the Apostles. If he is back, he will try to recover his power. There are many ways to do it but I know the man. He will try to… I'll kill him again, forever, this time."
"He is protected while inside the castle, Lily. There is no need for harsh decisions. Even if he is back, he won't try to attack Dumbledore's nest before getting completely back on his feet. Have faith."
"The problem with being a Goddess is you don't have anyone to pray to."
"So act, instead of praying. And you, put on your shoes, you have to meet your Governess today."
"But… my breakfast…"
"You already had breakfast, I saw it. Accio shoes. I know you have been trying to avoid it the whole week but no more. Here, take them, put them and go on, being late will only make your life more difficult."
"But, muuuuum!"
"No buts! Lily, what do I do with this body? It's dirtying my kitchen floor."
"He was a mediocre wizard but was bold in the end. And also gave me a vital clue to protect my son. Wrap it up and bury him in one of our cemeteries. He deserves a proper grave."
"I… I don't have a fucking clue about his name."
Lily was looking through the window, her face sad and worried. Cassie had never seen the use of praying but she hoped her brother would be safe and sound at Hogwarts, and come home soon. She missed him dearly, like a gaping wound in her chest bleeding more than the dead man's.
"Quirinus Quirrell."
Bella waved her wand, linen wraps covering and encircling the man. At the same time, the blood disappeared, leaving no trace behind. The woman was barking mad. She was the most awesome mom in the world.
"Time is passing, young lady."
Fuck her mom. Cassie put on her shoes and marched to the living room, as a woman marching to the gallows. She pressed a button on the fake fireplace, making the glass screen slide away. Behind the electric thing, the real fireplace hole was hidden. As soon as the fake fireplace was completely away from the hole, the fire erupted magically, filling it with vivid red flames. Cassie took some Floo Powder from the vase on the mantle and tossed it on the fire, watching it turn green. She stepped inside.
"The Greenery."
And, with a flash, she was gone.
A.N.: Well, this was quite the long chapter, huh? Lots of things to happen, lots of characters to introduce! However, as we are approaching some of the core points of this (quite short, I think) First Year, I have to talk a little bit about my goals with Thesmophoria.
First, I love Rowling's books, even if I disagree with some of her decisions at the ending. I admire her for her incredible effort into world building, tying so many plots and twists across the books, foreshadowing and leaving tracks for us to follow. It is my wish to preserve some of this magic in this story, sprinkling tips and leads for you to investigate, never pulling your legs with some overpowered bullshit straight from Deus Ex Factory. While he only have five chapters posted, I've already amassed more than four hundred entries in my Nuclino, a wikipedia-like platform I use to world-build. From books important in this story to characters to plot-points to sweets I'm creating for the characters to eat, there is a lot of things to explore. As Rowling, not every road will be crossed, many leads I'll skip over, so if any of you someday wish to expand this story, you can take them and run with 'em.
That said, I wish to answer some of the questions I've been getting from you all, and even pre-answer some this chapter will raise: why things are changing? And the answer lies in this world-building I've been making the past three years as I thought this story out: a single event changed, and it cascaded down a lot in this story.
Lily was bullied to hell and back during her teenage years. She was being almost-sincere in her speech to Pamela. She turned to the "dark arts" to find answers, while she lost her empathy for people. She cares for a small handful of them only. At the same time, she believes people need to be led, or else they will stray. Her approach to this is to be the shadow that guides them, the Goddess that lovingly moves the wizards and witches in the world so they don't go down the wrong path. She believes people have the right to choose they own fate, but only if she approves their decision.
However, differently from Voldemort, she never bets all her chips in the same number. Voldemort was an incredible wizard, a true magical monster but his plans were all very short-sighted. He has an one-track-mind and hogs to much power to himself. He dropped everything to pursue Harry, even before knowing Harry truly was the prophesied baby and, after his "death", his entire power structure crumbled to nothing. Lily is cut from a very different cloth and, just like the hat said to Harry, have plans within plans within plans. She moves the world like a spider building a web, while Voldemort jackhammers it. Many things happening in this story can be traced back to her, far too many, so stay tuned and keep your eyes open. I won't pull any shit on you, everything have to make sense for it to happen, even if it doesn't look like it at the first glance.
Next chapter: selenism, roseanism, the governess, a goblin in human flesh, more about the Hogwarts Club System, two months of classes and the very difficult life of Neville Longbottom.