Hyacinth's birthday was quiet, sweet, and happy. her and Duncan had always been best friends, so she didn't inviting any of her school-friends, because in her mind they didn't really count anyway.
So she spent her birthday with her, Aunt Petunia, and Duncan.
And Venus, of course, her half-Kneazle kitten, who had a tendency to lay next to Hyacinth's ankles, or on her lap if convenient.
Aunt Petunia had bought her a lovely, vintage, leather bound journal. "For your adventures at school, hm?"
. . .
On the day that Hyacinth was to board the Hogwarts Express, she realized she was expected to board on a nonexistent platform.
"No, dear," said Aunt Petunia, whom Hyacinth realized must have seen Lily do this in her youth, "it sounds loony, but you've got to run through that pillar just there. Magic. Now, be good at school, and write frequently, hm? I'll see you for Christmas. I love you."
Duncan shoved his hands in his pockets. "You'd better tell me everything cool and weird that happens, okay?"
"You too," she said, and the two cousins who had grown up more as siblings (more as twins) than anything regarded each other, each one trying to imagine how on earth they would survive. Duncan contemplated the immeasurable boredom he faced without Hyacinth, and she imagined how terribly lonely it would be, to take on an entirely new world without her best friend.
She left, then, and pushed her cart straight into a pillar, somehow, despite all odds, managing to come out onto the other side of it, to a place that had not existed to her prior to that moment.
Instantly, she was surrounded by the sights and sounds of witches and wizards bustling about. He saw owls, cats, and toads alike, she saw one girl who must've been sixteen or seventeen changing her hair colors apparently at will, she saw an enormous family of redheads, and then through the chaos she saw a pinpoint of familiarity,bit at least a lack of complete strangerness.
It was the girl from the shop (a dim voice in the back of her mind told her that she'd called her family "Malfoy", and so had McGonagall, but she had no indicator as to the girl's first name, and randomly screaming the surname of a girl you'd only met once seemed unwise in a new surrounding, so she pushed her way onto the train and found an empty compartment.
Hyacinth had just been sitting for a moment, when she was found by a skinny girl with light brown skin, a smattering of freckles that indicated she'd spent the whole summer in the sunshine, and a high ponytail of thick and tightly-packed curls.
"Hello," said the girl, "would you mind if I sat with you?"
"No, go ahead," said Hyacinth, waving to the empty seat across from her. The girl smiled and sat, introducing herself as Hermione Granger.
Hyacinth contemplated on whether or not it would be wise to reveal her name, but figured there was only so long she could hide it anyway.
"Hyacinth Potter."
"Not as in the-" Hermione abruptly cut herself off, and Hyacinth was sorely tempted to reply "No, the other Hyacinth Potter."
But all she said was "It would seem so."
"I've read all about you, have you any idea how many books you're in?"
It was a thought that hadn't occurred to her, although it made sense if she'd apparently defeated this Dark Lord as an infant. Hm. Looking back, that would be a hard legacy to live up to.
"No," she answered honestly.
"A lot," clarified Hermione, who then listed several books that Hyacinth would never remember, and then began talking about Hogwarts Houses.
"Which one do you think you'll be in?"
Hyacinth felt heat sneak up her cheeks. It was lucky her skin was brown enough to hide most of it. "I, uh, I don't really know much about them."
Hermione saw this as absolutely no problem, and took the opportunity to tell her everything she knew.
"Loads of people seem to think Gryffindors are the good guys and Slytherins are the bad guys, because Gryffindor represents bravery and honor and Slytherin ambition and cunning," she began, "but I think it's a little more complicated than that. Hufflepuff is about loyalty and determination, and Ravenclaw is about curiosity and wisdom. At least, that's what I know."
Hyacinth contemplated. "I don't know," she said finally, because she didn't know. "You?"
Hermione shrugged. "I suppose Ravenclaw would make sense, but I wouldn't mind Gryffindor."
"Not Hufflepuff or Slytherin?"
"I don't know, I agree with the virtues of those Houses, but I think my primary values align more with Gryffindor or Ravenclaw."
Hyacinth nodded thoughtfully, wondering where she would end up.
That was when Malfoy found them.
"Hello, Potter," she said cordially, "it occurred to me after our meeting that I did not formally introduce myself. Drisana Malfoy."
"Well," said Hyacinth, "I'd return the favor, but you already know my name."
"Everyone knows your name," retorted Drisana Malfoy, "and who are you?"
Hermione appeared suddenly very cautious. "Hermione Granger."
"Granger? I'm not familiar with the name," said Drisana in a polite but cold tone.
Hermione shrugged, and that was when something clicked for the blonde.
"You're a mu- Muggleborn!"
"Yes, and what about it?"
Drisana frowned, and turned towards Hyacinth. "Well, regardless, Hyacinth, I'm sitting down a few compartments with some people you might be interested in meeting, if you'd like to stop by later." And then she left.
Hyacinth turned towards Hermione. "What was that about? What's Muggleborn?"
Hermione was having trouble speaking, and Hyacinth suspected her throat was choked up. "Muggleborn means your parents were both Muggles, or non-magical. Malfoy's what they call a pureblood, meaning her parents were wizards, and their parents were wizards, and so on and so forth for many generations, although some families are considered less "pure" than others. Hers is one of the purest on record, so they consider themselves quite above everyone else."
"Oh," said Hyacinth. She wasn't sure what that made her, because both of her parents were wizards, but her mother's parents were Muggles, and-
"In case you're wondering," interrupted Hermione, "you're considered a half-blood, because your mother was Muggleborn."
Oh. Hermione must have done a whole lot of reading.
"That doesn't seem right," said Hyacinth. "This concept of blood purity. Seems a lot like racism."
Hermione and Hyacinth, who both had experienced their fair share of racial prejudice, Hermione being black and Hyacinth being half-Indian, shared a silent moment of bonding.
"It adds up to about the same thing. That was pretty much the main point of the last wizarding war, the one which you put an end to."
Yes, this legacy would prove quite difficult to live up to.
Hyacinth ended up buying some candy for them to split, and they marveled together at the chocolate frogs that leapt around if you didn't eat them fast enough.
"It probably won't be longer than another hour or two," said Hermione some time later, "We probably ought to get changed."
Apparently, there were two sets of bathrooms on the train, so Hermione went in one direction and Hyacinth the other.
She only got a few compartments down when she heard a voice.
"Potter! Finally come to join us?"
It was Drisana Malfoy.
She had some rather particular thoughts about Drisana Malfoy's wizarding racism, or blood purism, whatever it was called, but she decided it might not be tactful or conducive to voice them at this particular time, so she merely entered the compartment.
"Everyone," said Drisana, "This is Hyacinth Potter." One by one, Drisana introduced her companions to Hyacinth. Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott.
Hyacinth was directed into the seat directly across from Drisana, and next to Daphne.
"Finally ditch the mudblood?" asked Pansy Parkinson with a snicker. Hyacinth had not heard this word before, she did not know it, but she had a feeling it was not good.
"I'm not familiar with that terminology," Hyacinth said absently as Daphne showed her her fingernails which her mother had taken her to get done special for the occasion; they were black with silver and green jewels and a small metal dragon on each hand that hopped lazily from one fingernail to the next. Interesting, but Hyacinth had not always been the girliest of girls.
"It is true, then?" asked Blaise. "You were raised by Muggles?"
"Well, really just one. Not plural."
There was a collective gasp of shock and horror.
"It must have been dreadful," remarked Daphne.
Hyacinth shrugged. "Not necessarily, but I do wish I'd known about magic earlier."
They nodded sympathetically, and it occurred to Hyacinth what a strange world she'd been dropped into.
"Anyway," said Drisana, reminded of the original topic at hand, "Mudblood's a word for Muggleborns."
"Not something you ought to say to their faces, though," added Theodore Nott with a tone of neutrality, "it's taken quite offensively."
"It sounds to me like something you ought not to say at all," said Hyacinth, removing all traces of hardness or coldness that might have been tempted to enter her voice.
Daphne laughed, and Pansy pursed her lips, and Drisana said only, "You've spent far too much time in the company of Muggles."
Hyacinth decided, then, that she probably should be getting back to Hermione, and realized with a start that if Hermione found her here, it would send a particular kind of message that she did not want the bookish girl receiving about her.
"If you'll excuse me," said Hyacinth, "I really must be getting changed."
When she had successfully found the bathroom, she changed into her Hogwarts uniform and made her way back to her and Hermione's compartment.
The other girl was already waiting, and looked up at her, and began talking about this boy Neville who'd lost his toad, and this other red-haired boy named Ron who'd been helping him look and stopped by to ask if they'd seen it.
Soon enough, they arrived at the magical castle that they'd be calling home for the foreseeable future.
It was even better than Hyacinth had imagined, and very soon, she found herself in a line of first years waiting to be Sorted, by what was evidently a magical hat that could read their minds. Alright. Hyacinth figured it probably wasn't the weirdest thing this school had to offer.
So she watched. Some of her classmates were Sorted as soon as the Hat touched their heads, and others took up to around five minutes.
Hermione Granger went to Gryffindor. Daphne Greengrass went to Slytherin. There seemed to be a relatively balanced amount of students going to each House. Nott went to Slytherin, so did Malfoy and Parkinson, and then there was a pair of twin girls that got split up; one went to Gryffindor, the other Ravenclaw, and then it was Hyacinth's turn, and the whole school hushed when McGonagall called "Hyacinth Potter," in her stern voice, and Hyacinth strode forward to the rickety old stook that appeared on the verge of collapse, somehow managing to trust it to hold her.
Potter, eh? said the Hat, into her mind. Well now, what do we have here? Hm . . . courage plenty, but the mindfulness to show restraint. Hm, now this is interesting. You've got a rather interesting dichotomy. The passion for justice, and the ambition to believe you can change the world.
Someday, replied Hyacinth I hadn't intended to get to it right now.
No, but you did intend to start preparing now. So where to put you? That moral backbone would make good for Hufflepuff, but Slytherin would teach you to utilize that ambition.
There was a long moment of silence.
Well, said the Hat, I don't suppose you have a preference?
Hyacinth thought back to what Hermione had said. People thought Slytherin were the bad guys, but it was more complicated than that. She wondered if she really wanted to be in the company of the blood purists from Drisana's compartment, all of whom, it seemed, would be in Slytherin. She thought about all the things Aunt Petunia had said about how you get influenced by the company you keep.
Then maybe I can be an influence . . . she thought, and the Hat chuckled.
Do you truly believe so, Hyacinth Potter? That you can change the prejudices that have been fed to them since they were in diapers?
Faintly, a remnant of a poem from a book Aunt Petunia used to read to her and Duncan echoed in her mind. Perhaps it had stayed with her all those years, for this precise moment.
Anything can happen, anything can be.
Perhaps so. Then I suppose we have our answer.
"SLYTHERIN!"
Sounds of surprise echoed across the Great Hall as McGonagall removed the Hat from Hyacinth and she found her way down to the Slytherin table, where Drisana Malfoy was giving her the most pleased smile possible. She ignored the mutters and expressions of disbelief coming from the Gryffindor table.
"See," said Drisana to Pansy, "I knew she belonged with us, truly."
Hyacinth watched as the rest of the students were Sorted, until they finally came to Zabini, who was, of course, sent into Slytherin.
And then she ate, hoping she hadn't made a mistake.
That first night in Slytherin was an illuminative experience. Of Slytherin girls in her year, there was she, Drisana, Daphne, Pansy, a girl named Tracey Davis, and a girl named Athena Rosier.
Apparently, they'd all known each other since birth, so they were all very interested in knowing more about Hyacinth.
There wasn't much to tell, in her opinion, but they questioned her about everything -her favorite colors, what she liked to do, how did the Muggles treat her, etc.
In the end, she ended up sitting on the floor in front of Daphne's bed while she braided her hair, with Drisana and Athena sitting on Daphne's bed and the others on Tracey's bed across from her.
"Well," said Pansy, "Mother's thinking about doing an expansion on the manor, she wants a South Wing so she can build a proper ballroom and a line of guest rooms."
"That would be very fine," said Drisana. "My mother wants to install a swimming pool for this summer."
"That would be so much fun!" said Daphne excitedly. "Father's been thinking about an aquarium, he wants to surprise Tori with it for Christmas." (Hyacinth had learned that Daphne had a younger sister called Astoria, who would be joining them at Hogwarts the following year).
Hyacinth thought of Christmas, she thought of going home to Aunt Petunia and Duncan, and realized with a start that she'd forgotten to write home. McGonagall had told her the school had owls she could borrow to send letters. She'd have to write one tonight and take it up to the owlery tomorrow.
And then she realized it must be very commonplace to grow up in exquisite mansions if you were from a pureblood family. Come to think of it . . .
But there was no way to answer that question now, so she filed it somewhere in the back of her mind.
That was when a third-year girl came in, quietly but urgently informing them that Professor Snape was holding a House meeting in the common room.
They filed out, Daphne hissing at Hyacinth to wait just a second while she finished tying the elastic around the end of her masterpiece.
There stood Professor Snape, who would be her Head of House and Potions Professor. He had an unpleasant expression, and greasy hair.
"I have come to impart the rules for Slytherin House, for those new students," his eyes flicked to where Hyacinth and Drisana stood side by side, "and those who may need a reminder," here his eyes stopped purposefully in one place, where a brief and muffled snicker could be heard from, "there are not many, but you will regret it if you break them. One, you are not to slack, nor underperform in any class, if you are in absolutely dire need of assistance, ask someone for it, but I make it a point that Slytherin is known for at least passing competence. Two, understand now that the rest of this school will be largely against you. You have the misfortune of a rather unpleasant set of stereotypes. Make no mistake, the other Houses will throw you to the dogs. Because of this, I expect a united House, at least outside of this room. Whatever petty disputes you may have with one another must not leave these walls, otherwise our House becomes nothing but the viper's nest the others already imagine it to be."
There was absolute silence.
"You are dismissed."
That night, Hyacinth found herself (along with most of the other girls) writing her first letter home from Hogwarts.
Dear Aunt Petunia,
Hogwarts is good. I've been Sorted into House Slytherin, do you know anything about the difference between the Houses? It seems like there's some serious competition between them.
The other Slytherins in my year are nice, and I have a friend I met on the train who got Sorted into Gryffindor. Our Head of House is a man named Professor Snape. He's a little weird, but not bad.
Love,
Hyacinth.
Then she wrote to her cousin.
Duncan
Hogwarts is super cool. Remember how I mentioned something about how there were different Houses, but I didn't know anything about them? Well, I'm in House Slytherin. A lot of people seem to think it's for evil people, but it's really about ambition (amongst other things). That Malfoy girl I met when McGonagall took me school shopping is in the same House.
Also, wizards have their own specialized form of racism, but not to worry, I've comprised a plan to dismantle it as we speak.
-Hya
Satisfied, she sealed them and gave them to Drisana, who had graciously offered Hyacinth to borrow use of her Eagle owl.
Venus had been stalking the castle grounds since their arrival, and it was only as Hyacinth was settling into bed for the night that she made her reappearance. The kitten settled herself at the foot of her bed and watched her with glowing green eyes that would give a slow blink every once in a while, until Hyacinth drifted into sleep.