November 9, 2014 (Evangeline)
Eva fell out of the fireplace and face-planted onto soft carpet on the other side. She'd never gotten the hang of keeping her balance during Floo travel, much less while lugging a heavy trunk full of all her belongings with her. She felt a heavy thud as the trunk was deposited next to her, bumping painfully against her left arm.
Luckily she hadn't packed much – she only had her clothes and a handful of books. She had considered traveling back to Brisbane to gather things from her old home, but then again, it hadn't really felt like home for her in a long while. It was just the place she stayed on holidays while waiting for the next school term to begin. She felt slightly guilty for feeling this way and knowing that she would never again have that home to go back to. But she pushed such thoughts away as she struggled to her feet, taking in her surroundings. Her future was here, at Hogwarts, and that was all she needed to preoccupy herself with now.
She presumed that she was in the Headmaster's office: a large, circular room with an ornate desk at the center. Scores of bookshelves lined the walls, filled with ancient tomes in languages she didn't recognize. A glittering ruby sword sat in a display case, beside a small collection of trinkets. Eva stepped forward to examine them, quite the odd collection of objects: a dusty tiara, a golden cup, a silver locket, and most curiously, a grimy handbook with a black hole in the center. These objects gave her an odd sense of foreboding, and she decided she didn't want to know what they signified.
A light rattling from behind startled her, and Eva spun around, but the room appeared empty. At the opposite wall, however, sat a large cage, covered with a heavy blanket. It was shaking quietly, and the closer Eva looked, it appeared to be glowing. Eva approached the cage and pressed a hand against the blanket, and felt a warmth radiating from whatever was within. Curiosity got the better of her, and she pulled the blanket off the cage to see what it contained.
Inside the cage was a magnificent phoenix, complete with burning-red feathers and piercing yellow eyes. The phoenix tittered at her as it shuffled restlessly on its perch. Eva had heard of phoenixes before and knew that they were exceedingly rare. Why did Harry Potter have one, and why was it being kept cooped up in such a restrictive home?
"I see you've met Archimedes."
Eva wheeled around; Harry was standing at the other side of the room, smiling at her. She had no idea where he had come from or how he'd entered without her hearing him.
"S-sorry sir," she apologized at once. "I was just curious."
"He seems to like you," Harry remarked. "I haven't seen him this calm since I brought him here earlier this year. He doesn't seem too fond of me."
"He's not?" said Eva, frowning.
"You might want to stand back," Harry warned, and Eva instinctively backed away from the cage. Harry approached Archimedes, reaching towards the bird with his right hand, upon which Eva could see a golden ring inset with a black stone. At once the phoenix began screeching and flapping its wings, hissing angrily at Harry. Eva understood the cage now; if the bird had been free, it might have attacked him without abandon. Harry sighed wistfully and waved his wand, returning the blanket to its position covering the cage, and the bird's distress slowly dissipated to a quiet unrest.
"Why is he acting like that?" Eva inquired.
"Most wizards have to bond with a phoenix in order to tame them," Harry explained. "My former headmaster for instance, Albus Dumbledore, kept a phoenix as a familiar. I captured Archimedes here in South America this past spring, but I did not have time to bond with it before returning home."
"Then why keep it here against his will?" Eva asked.
"Research purposes," Harry said vaguely. "But that's neither here nor there. We need to get you settled here before you begin your classes."
Harry walked around his desk to the ornate chair behind it, and motioned Eva to take a seat as he did the same. Eva sat nervously across from the great Harry Potter, wondering how this was going to work.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Thomas," Harry said with a warm smile. "I hope you find yourself right at home here."
"Thank you," Eva said politely. Her head was still spill slightly from the Floo and a lack of sleep, but she managed a quiet smile back at her new Headmaster.
"There are a few things you should know for your time here," Harry continued. "Just some general rules and etiquette notes to follow…"
Eva massaged her temple as Harry rattled off a list of rules and conduct requirements for the school. She had a strange sensation like her mind was being prodded from all directions. It felt rather like Professor Farraday attempting to penetrate her mental barriers during Occlumency classes back at Willoughby. In fact, that's exactly what it felt like. Eva gave Harry an odd look, but he gave no indication that he was attempting to enter her mind.
"...But I'm sure your classmates will help you get up to speed in no time," Harry concluded. "Anyway, how are you feeling about the transition? Are you nervous to be starting here?"
"A little," Eva muttered, still fighting off the growing headache swirling around her mind. "Just eager to get into the swing of things, I guess."
"That's understandable," said Harry. "With what happened to your parents, I imagine anyone would be a bit apprehensive."
"Uh huh," Eva agreed. It felt like Harry's bright green eyes were boring straight into her soul. Despite the placid expression on his face, there was no masking the intensity behind that gaze.
"How are you feeling about it all?" Harry asked softly. "Any questions you have for me?"
Eva had had enough. "Why don't you tell me how I'm feeling?" she snapped. And with a great effort, she forced her mental barriers outward, swatting away the assaults on her mind and glaring at Harry.
The Headmaster blinked; a look of surprise registered on his face. Eva suddenly felt scared; had she really just snapped at the most powerful wizard in the world on only their second meeting? But to her surprise, a wry grin appeared on Harry's face.
"My apologies, Miss Thomas," he said. "Professor Campbell told me that you were an accomplished Occlumens. I merely wanted to test your barriers for myself. But I should have warned you before intruding as I did."
Yes, you should have, Eva thought but did not dare say aloud. "It's okay," she muttered instead.
Harry thankfully decided to change the subject. "Now, the first order of business will be getting you Sorted," he explained. "I understand that your school has four Houses, the same as Hogwarts. Which did you belong to?"
"I was an Ignus," said Eva. "We are sorted according to our zodiac signs. I'm a Leo, so I belonged to the House of Summer."
"Aelus, Ignus, Terrus, and Aquus…" Harry mused, rattling off the names of the four Houses of Eva's (now former) school. "The four elements. Very clever. Here at Hogwarts, the four Houses are named after the four Founders, and students are Sorted according to the Founders' traits that they best embody. Are you aware of this?"
"Sort of," Eva admitted. She didn't know much about the Hogwarts House system, but like all wizarding children, she had grown up learning about the heroism of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, the two Gryffindors who faced down the Dark Lord Voldemort. She assumed that Gryffindors must be brave and strong, which didn't sound like her at all. She could never imagine stepping into the spotlight like that – she would much rather let others have all the glory and attention.
"Well, it is rare to Sort someone your age, but not unheard of," said Harry, standing from his desk. He approached a high shelf and reached up to retrieve a small, lumpy object. He approached Eva and handed her the object, which she realized was a very old hat.
"I don't understand," Eva frowned. "What do I do with this?"
"Put it on," Harry smiled. "You'll understand soon enough."
Perplexed, Eva obliged, placing the hat atop her head. Its brim was too wide to rest there, instead slipping down so that the hat covered her eyes and rested awkwardly on her nose and ears. Eva stared at the inside of the hat for a long moment, completely unsure of what she was supposed to do next. Then, to her amazement, a voice floated directly into her head.
Ahh, now what do we have here? said the Sorting Hat.
You can talk?! Eva thought with alarm.
Indeed I can, said the Hat. I can also read your mind, Evangeline Thomas, and I am fascinated by what I see.
What's so fascinating about me? asked Eva. I'm nobody special.
I beg to differ, the Hat chuckled. A sharp mind, a desire for knowledge, there's no doubt about that. Ravenclaw would suit you handsomely. But I also sense a reckless streak, a desire to bend the rules that don't apply to you. A sense of stubborn bravery, no doubt inherited from your parents.
My parents were the most careful people I knew, Eva protested.
There are many kinds of bravery, Miss Thomas, the Hat said cryptically. Perhaps you didn't know them as well as you thought you did. Your parents were far braver than you know.
Eva thought back to all those summers she'd gone home to visit her parents between terms. The quiet smiles they gave her when she asked how things were back home, when she inquired about the neighbors. She knew perfectly well now how they'd been ostracized once their freak of a daughter became common knowledge to the community. Yet they never complained, never let on that they'd been shunned by all of their former friends. Their quiet resilience and unwavering support for their only child made Eva feel all the more guilty.
I should have been there to save them, Eva thought bitterly. I always worried that something would happen to them while I was at school. I could have done more...taught them how to defend themselves, given them a way to communicate with me if something went wrong…
A noble sentiment, said the Hat. Gryffindor might be the best home for you.
Oh, I don't think so, Eva thought, panicking a little. I'm not brave. I won't fit in there. Ravenclaw will do just fine.
You will not be challenged in Ravenclaw, the Hat chastised her. Your thirst for knowledge is apparent, but that's not all you're after. You have purpose behind your studies. You want to be powerful.
But I don't want power for its own sake! Eva protested. I just want to be able to fend for myself...to stop running away all the time.
And that is what separates you from a Slytherin, said the Hat. You seek power and knowledge to keep those around you safe, and you won't hesitate to use them at your own expense. A Gryffindor if I ever saw one.
What about the fourth House, then? Eva asked desperately. Maybe I can go there instead.
Hufflepuff? the Hat laughed. I can see that you are a hard worker, but it would be a poor fit. Your peers would enable your passive behavior, and you would continue to under-achieve.
There's nothing wrong with that, Eva thought stubbornly. I don't have to be special. I just want to fit in.
Make no mistake, Miss Thomas: you are special, said the Hat. Whether you fit in or not depends entirely on you. But there is no doubt that you belong in…
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Eva's view shifted back to the Headmaster's Office as Harry lifted the Sorting Hat off of her head. "Well done!" he beamed. "A fine choice. Gryffindor has a proud history, one that I am sure you will contribute to yourself one day."
"Thank you, sir," Eva said humbly. Despite her reservations about the house of bravery, the knot in her stomach had lessened somewhat, and she felt a little more at home here now.
"Now there's just the matter of settling your schedule and moving into your dorm," said Harry, returning the Sorting Hat back to its shelf. "But before you go, there's one last thing we should discuss: your name."
"My name?" Eva frowned, confused. "What's wrong with it?"
"You will no doubt draw attention as a new student to our school," Harry explained. "Hogwarts doesn't accept many transfers. Unfortunately, despite Voldemort's defeat in the war, there remain some in Britain who would discriminate against your blood status."
"Because I'm Muggle-born?" Eva deduced, and Harry nodded in affirmation.
"It might be best if you adopt a pure-blood name to avoid unwanted attention," said Harry. "You will be more readily accepted, and it may help you blend in and avoid putting an undue target on your head. And if any C.A.W. members still had their eye on you, it would shield you from their eyes as well."
"But sir…" Eva said, still perplexed by the idea, "I thought I was here to join the Muggle-born housing program? Won't it be suspicious if a pure-blood joined?"
"The program is not only for Muggle-borns," Harry grinned wryly. "There are plenty of pure-blood students here whose parents were lost in the war, and the castle is open to them as well. Your inclusion will raise no red flags."
"But what if someone asked me about my family, my heritage?" Eva asked, starting to panic at the idea now. "What if I slip up and tell the truth?"
"I've given this some thought as well," said Harry. "You can tell people that your parents were killed in a potions explosion. As I understand it, Australia deals with a dozen such incidents in the Outback every year. I suggest you adopt the surname Prewitt, which is an old wizarding family that has members all over the world. There aren't many Prewitts left in Britain after the war, so it's unlikely you'd run into anyone who could dispute your claims."
Eva pondered this. She had known a Prewitt back at Willoughby, four grade levels above her own, and she had seemed nice enough in passing. Pretending to be her distant cousin didn't sound too hard. She wasn't sure how she felt lying about her parents' cause of death – a potions explosion sounded far more ignoble than being murdered. But if it would set her up for better success here at Hogwarts, she would heed Harry's suggestion. Her past was already dead and buried in her mind; what difference would a name change make?
"Okay," Eva nodded in agreement. "Evangeline Prewitt it is."
"Excellent!" Harry beamed. He rummaged through his desk for a quill and a roll of parchment. He scribbled a note on it before tearing it off and handing it to Eva. "Take this to the second floor's southern wing, to the office next to the old bust of Wilford the Wise. Your Head of Household resides there; she will help get you settled in Gryffindor Tower."
"Thank you, Headmaster," said Eva, standing and giving a graceful curtsy as Professor Campbell had taught her at Willoughby.
"Please, call me Harry," Harry winked. Eva nodded gratefully at this, though she knew she would never call him that. He was too important, too intimidating of a figure for her to use such informal language around him. She turned to grab her trunk, just in time to see a pair of house-elves lift it onto their shoulders and disappear with a soft crack, presumably to bring it to her dorm. She no longer had the energy to care. She was grateful that it was already dusk here due to the time change, and she could use a proper night's sleep.
Eva had great difficulty navigating the winding castle, which she had the odd suspicion was constantly moving whenever she wasn't looking. She was certain the staircases were messing with her, causing her to take wrong turns and have to backtrack multiple times. She finally located the southern wing of the second floor and the old bust that she assumed was Wilford the Wise (which she had the odd sensation was watching her approach). She walked up to the office door beside it and knocked firmly. After a moment's wait, the door swung open, and Eva recoiled in shock.
"What do you want?" asked the witch. "Who are you?" Eva quickly recomposed herself, forcing herself not to stare at the young witch's face, at the long, jagged scar running down its length across an empty eye socket. The ginger-haired witch glared at her with her good eye, demanding an answer.
"S-sorry," Eva said, holding out the slip of paper Harry had given her. "I'm a transfer student. I've just been Sorted into your House."
The witch snatched the slip of paper from her and skimmed its contents. "Hmph," she said. "He could have summoned for me himself, but no matter. Come in, then." Eva followed her into the office, taking in the messy space. Papers and trinkets littered every surface, and the walls were plastered with Quidditch posters, players zooming between one another's frames. She spied an empty bottle of what she presumed to be some kind of alcohol before the witch hastily swept it into a desk drawer.
"Evangeline Prewitt, is it?" the witch said, referencing the slip of paper.
"Yes," said Eva, glad that she hadn't been asked her name first – she had already forgotten all about the name change. "But everybody calls me Eva."
"My mother was a Prewitt, you know," said the witch. "Did you know a Molly Prewitt-Weasley?"
"N-no, sorry," said Eva, suddenly convinced her cover was about to blow at its first test. "M-my parents are from Australia."
"Hmph," said the witch with a shrug. "It's a big family. But hey, maybe we're distant cousins! Name's Ginny Weasley. You can call me Professor Weasley, or just Ginny if you prefer."
"Nice to meet you," Eva said with relief, glad the line of questioning about her name had passed.
Ginny walked behind her desk and rummaged through her drawers for something. Eva watched with fascination as Ginny withdrew a small silvery box and opened it. She delicately picked up something white and round and held it up to her face, pressing it against her empty eye socket. When she pulled her hand away, a bright blue magical eye twitched to and fro, finally settling on Eva as Ginny's real eye scanned her desk.
"Don't mind the eye; it doesn't bite," Ginny muttered as she swept giant stacks of books and parchment onto the ground in search of something. She finally located what she was after: a blank timetable. She flattened one out and tapped her wand to it. A moment later, the name EVANGELINE PREWITT appeared in scrawling black ink across the top.
"Alright then, Miss Prewitt, let's get your schedule sorted," said Ginny. "What year are you?"
"Fifth," said Eva.
"You are aware that Hogwarts students sit their O.W.L.s in fifth year?" Ginny asked. "I believe that's a year earlier than Willoughby Academy."
"Oh," said Eva quietly. "That's okay. I'm the top in all my classes, and I think I can manage the extra courseload."
"Good, Ginny muttered, tapping her wand to the timetable again so that text began to fill it in. "You will be required to take a number of core classes, including Charms, Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions, and History of Magic. Fifth-years are also required to take Legilimency and Occlumency, which are taught in tandem. Are there any electives you wish to pursue?"
"Erm...I'm not sure," Eva said. "What are my options?"
"Well, I would avoid Divination, Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures; rather pointless subjects unless you intend to pursue them full-time," Ginny chuckled. "Herbology is optional, but highly recommended if you plan to sit your N.E.W.T. in Potions. Magical Theory is only available for sixth-years and above, and we've discontinued Muggle Studies, which leaves you with Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, which are often taken together and useful for many career paths."
"I'll take those last two, then," said Eva. Runes was not her best subject at Willoughby, but she could keep up just fine with rigorous studying, while Arithmancy had never given her too much trouble. She didn't know what 'Magical Theory' was, but it sounded fascinating to her already, and she considered asking about it, but figured she shouldn't rock the boat too early.
With a final flourish of her wand, Ginny examined Eva's completed course schedule. "Lucky you...two free afternoons a week," she observed. "You'll be the envy of every Quidditch player in the school. You don't happen to play, do you?"
"Oh, no," Eva said quickly. She was deathly afraid of heights, and while she could hold her own on a broomstick, going anywhere above ten feet off the ground gave her horrible nausea.
"Shame," Ginny shrugged. "The Gryffindor team is looking rather paltry this year. I'd hate to see Ravenclaw take the Cup for a third year running; Professor Lovegood will never let me hear the end of it." She flicked her wand and levitated the schedule in front of Eva's face for her to take. Eva examined it; her Mondays and Wednesdays looked dreadfully busy, but otherwise it looked manageable.
"Come, I'll show you to your dormitory," said Ginny. She led the way out of the office, and Eva took care to stay close behind the professor as she led the way through the castle. She did not want to get lost again. Ginny pointed out several key locations along the way, including several of her classrooms and a handful of shortcuts hidden behind portraits and statues that Eva knew she would never remember the location of.
They finally arrived at a floor-to-wall painting of a large woman, who was snoozing lightly in her frame. Ginny cleared her throat loudly, and the Fat Lady snorted awake, startled. "Scrimgeour," Ginny announced, and with a huff of annoyance, the woman's portrait swung open, revealing a hidden portrait hole. Eva followed Ginny into the Gryffindor common room, which was filled with boisterous students who suddenly fell deathly silent. It was clear that most students were intimidated by Professor Weasley.
All except for one, that is. "Evening, Auntie!" came a jovial voice from near the fireplace. The speaker was a young witch about Eva's age, with similar flaming red hair as Ginny's. "To what do we owe the pleasure this evening?"
Ginny's response was to hold out an expectant hand. "Give it here," she demanded in a tired voice.
"I don't know what you're talking about," said the redhead girl in an innocent voice that failed to fool even Eva.
"Really? Then what's that underneath your sofa cushion?" Ginny asked. The girl scowled, glaring at the magical eye fixed directly at the offending object. She withdrew the small device and walked across the room to hand it to Ginny, giving Eva a clear view of it: a Fanged Frisbee, a round disc with several sharp teeth running along its outer edge, giggling mischievously as though it knew it had been found out.
"You know these are banned on school grounds," Ginny chastised. "I ought to report this to the Headmaster, but luckily for you, that's not why I'm here."
"It's not?" the girl asked, frowning.
"This is your new classmate, Evangeline Prewitt," said Ginny, gesturing to the timid girl standing behind her. "She's just transferred here from Willoughby Academy in Australia."
"Wicked!" said the girl, extending a hand towards Eva. "Victoire Weasley, pleasure to meet you. You can call me Vic."
"Eva," Eva mumbled, shaking the girl's hand.
"Miss Prewitt here will be in fifth year with you," Ginny explained. "I want you to show her around the castle and introduce her to your classmates."
"Yes, Auntie Ginevra," said Vic solemnly, giving her a mock salute.
"What have I told you about calling me that?!" Ginny barked. "In this castle, you will refer to me as Professor Weasley."
"Right, sorry," Vic grinned, though she didn't look remotely sorry about her slip-up. "C'mon, Eva, let's find your bed!" And without warning, Vic slipped her hand into Eva's and skipped her across the common room towards the dorms.
"Don't mind my aunt," Vic said in a cheerful voice as she bounded up the steps ahead of Eva. "She may be standoffish, but she's got a heart of gold."
"Yeah, she seemed a bit bitter that Professor Potter didn't summon her up to his office," Eva recalled. To her surprise, Vic burst out laughing at this.
"She finds any excuse to get into the Headmaster's office these days," she giggled. "Kind of a running joke in the Weasley family that she's trying to woo Potter."
"Hard to blame her," Eva shrugged. There was perhaps no more desirable bachelor in the world than Harry Potter, the Chosen One. Even all the way in Australia, Eva knew that Harry never married and was infamously reclusive in the years after Voldemort's defeat.
"My dad says that the two of them used to date as teenagers," said Vic. "I guess Auntie tried to rekindle things after the war, but he wasn't interested anymore."
"That's sad," Eva muttered, not seeing the humor that Victoire clearly found in the situation. She couldn't imagine a more painful scenario than loving somebody who did not love you back. Why was Ginny Weasley still clinging to this hope for fifteen long years? She didn't intend to ask.
"Here we are!" Vic announced, throwing open the door to the fifth-year girls' dorm. Two other girls looked up from their beds, one reading and the other working on what looked like a school essay. "Ladies, we have a new roommate!"
"That explains the bed that appeared after dinner," sighed one of the girls, pointing a thumb at the corner. Eva saw an empty four-poster waiting for her there, and her school trunk was already at the foot of the bed, waiting to be unpacked.
"Hi," Eva said timidly. "I'm Eva Prewitt."
"Candace Clearwater," announced a tall, bespectacled girl as she extended her hand. "I'm a prefect, so if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
"Amy Burton," said the other girl, a short and squat but cheerful-looking witch. "Are you a Muggle-born, by chance?"
Eva gulped, suddenly feeling quite put on the spot. Had she does something to give her blood status away without realizing? "Um...n-no," she stammered. "P-pure-blood."
"Oh. Shame," Amy said with a sad grin. "Would've been nice to have another one around. I'm one of the only Muggle-borns in our year."
Eva gave her a polite smile, but quietly she felt regret at not being able to tell Amy the truth. She felt she likely had far more in common with Amy than with the other girls, and for all she knew could get closer with her as a result. She wanted to ask about her experience at the school as a Muggle-born, whether she was in the Hogwarts housing program, if her parents had encountered any discrimination from C.A.W. or otherwise, but she held her tongue.
"Wait...did you say you're a Prewitt?" asked Vic, suddenly looking eager. "That means we could be cousins, you know. My gran was a Prewitt!"
"Yeah, your aunt told me," Eva nodded nervously. Luckily Vic didn't seem interested in digging deeper into this revelation, instead throwing a protective arm over Eva's shoulders.
"Well, as your cousin, I hereby take it upon myself to get you up to Hogwarts speed," she announced, with an air of practiced chivalry that made the other three girls giggle. "You've got a lot to learn, Prewitt, and I'll be your guide."
"Thanks," Eva said sincerely. "I'm a little nervous about the British curriculum, but I think I can get a handle on it."
"Oh, who cares about the coursework?" Vic said dramatically, flopping onto her own bed. "There's so much more you need to know to survive here! Who to avoid, who to suck up to, which professors you don't want to tick off. There's a very particular culture here that you'll want to learn before you commit any accidental faux pas."
"Faux pas?" Eva asked, suddenly very interested. She definitely hoped to learn as much about British culture as she could, as she barely fit into her native Australian culture to begin with. "Like what?"
"Rule number one," said Amy Thomas from her own desk without looking up from her homework, "do not upset the Headmaster." Eva's instinct was to laugh at this, but the grave tone in which Amy delivered her deadpan remark – and Vic and Candace's own stern expressions – told her not to.
"Yeah, probably for the best," Vic shrugged. "All the teachers here are loyal to Potter, almost to a fault. I reckon over half of 'em fought alongside him in the war."
"Don't be too much of a goodie two-shoes, though," Candace giggled. "Most witches try their hardest to get sent to his office after-hours. Can you blame them? Those eyes…"
"Ugh, don't be gross," Vic groaned. "He's a professor, Clearwater!"
"And a war hero," Candace swooned. "Don't tell me you've never noticed how handsome he is. And such a gentleman…"
Eva thought Harry Potter looked very much like an ordinary man. But she imagined the allure around him, his hero status, probably amplified any feelings of attraction towards him, as weird a thought as it was. Luckily Vic and Amy seemed to be of the same mind, both gagging exaggeratedly at Candace's remarks.
"Remind me not to get paired with you in Legilimency class, you filthy-minded wench," Vic teased, and Candace stuck out her tongue back, though her face was slightly flush with embarrassment.
"Rule number two," said Candace, thankfully changing the subject, "don't say anything positive about the Minister of Magic."
"Really?" Eva frowned. "Isn't she a war hero too?"
"She and Potter have been rowing in the press lately," Vic sighed. "No one's really sure why, but I wouldn't let a teacher overhear you defending her. Otherwise, you risk running afoul of rule one."
"It's a stupid rule," Amy groaned, looking up from her homework with an irritated look on her face. "Why shouldn't we be allowed to praise her? My mum sheltered in one of Granger's colonies when she discovered I was a witch."
"Yeah!" Eva chimed in, unable to stop herself. "What could she have done to upset the teachers?"
"How should I know? I don't follow politics," Vic shrugged. "Take out a subscription to the Daily Prophet if you're so curious. Potter must have friends in the editor's office, because they love to slag her whenever the Ministry does something foolish."
"She's been re-elected three times, though, hasn't she?" Eva asked. "She must be popular enough to win."
"You know an awful lot about British politics for an Australian," Vic remarked. Eva blushed; she of course had read every book she could about the life and career of Hermione Granger, so she knew much more than she let on.
"Granger's run unopposed every year," Candace explained. "My mum works in the Ministry; she says that even the employees there aren't too keen on her. But she always says the only person who could beat her in an election is Potter himself, and for some reason he seems uninterested in the job."
Eva had always wondered that herself. Why had Harry Potter foregone a career in politics in favor of overseeing a bunch of teenagers? Surely he would win in a landslide, even against Granger. He was the one who got the lion's share of credit for his defeat. She was burning with further questions, but decided to hold her tongue for fear of revealing too much about herself. Perhaps she could ask Amy in private some time…
"And rule number three," said Vic, "if you want a successful career after Hogwarts, you'd better make friends with some Slytherins."
"Why?" asked Eva.
"They're the ones with rich and influential parents," explained Amy. "Potter's gang of Gryffindors might rule Hogwarts, but the legacy families don't care about Potter and Granger. The real power still lies in the pure-blood families, who will continue to run things behind the scenes no matter who's in charge."
"You should definitely try to get on Professor Slughorn's good side," said Vic. "He hosts parties for his most talented students, and apparently the networking there is invaluable."
"Good to know," Eva muttered. She was unsure if she wanted to go into politics, but perhaps it wouldn't hurt to get to know people in high places. If she had any prayer of finding her parents' killers, she might want to make some connections in the Ministry and elsewhere in case she ever needed to call in a favor or two. She wondered if this was the true reason Harry had suggested she adopt a pure-blood name...
"Rule four," Candace yawned, dropping back onto her own bed, "no loud noises after ten P.M."
"That's just your rule," Vic protested. "Some of us like to party until dawn, am I right, Prewitt?"
"Actually, I could use some shut-eye myself," Eva admitted. She was already overwhelmed with all of this new information about the school, and with a full day of classes ahead of her in the morning, she knew she could use all the sleep she could get.
"Aw, you're no fun," Vic pouted, but she too retreated to her four-poster. "We shall reconvene our lessons at breakfast. Until the morrow!" And with a great flourish of her wand, the curtains around her bed dramatically slammed shut – so hard, in fact, that the fabric tore in two places, causing Vic to swear loudly. Eva chuckled to herself, turning to her trunk to unpack while Vic set about repairing the damage.
Though she tucked into bed soon after, Eva had trouble falling asleep. Her brain rattled with thoughts about Hogwarts, about Harry Potter and his supposed band of loyalists in the castle, about Hermione Granger and her allegedly waning influence, and about the ball of energy that called herself Victoire Weasley. She was grateful to have someone to show her the ropes, even if such a chaotic force of nature wouldn't have been her first choice for a friend. Yet there was something strangely comforting about her presence, and Eva felt oddly at ease with Vic at her side, and could see herself becoming friends with the feisty young witch.
Eva also had images of eyeballs floating around her brain. The piercing green stare of Harry Potter. The swiveling blue gaze of Ginny Weasley's enchanted eye. The curious, discerning stares from her dorm mates, and those of the curious Gryffindors in the common room below. Eva supposed there was something to be said for the comfort of being watched over so closely. But she couldn't help but feel slightly exposed under such close scrutiny, either.
A/N: Up next, another flashback sequence featuring a brand-new timeline from Hermione Granger's POV! Please follow and review if you're enjoying the story so far; I'd love to hear your feedback, both good and bad. P.S. - I'm aware that the timeline doesn't exactly match up with Victoire's Hogwarts years in canon, but this is an AU, so screw it!
