A/N: Fun fact – this chapter title was almost the title of the entire fic itself! I'm sure it won't become important later. Enjoy the chapter!


November 10, 2014 (Evangeline)

"Magical tradition in the Western world has utilized the Latin language as a foundation for spell-crafting for centuries. However, we also know that other proto-languages are possible for channeling magic, such as Uralic in Siberia, Dravidic in Southeast Asia, and Arawakan in South America. Some success has also been found spell-crafting with modern languages, including English, albeit with diminished results.

"Does it stand to reason, then, that there is a lingual origin point from which all these proto-languages derive? Does magic become more potent the closer to this origin point we can get? The study of Ancient Runes points towards this hypothesis, as witches and wizards have found success channeling elemental magic via the use of archaic symbols of unknown origin.

"In 1137, the archwizard Merlin famously posited that a supreme being created magic long before humans arrived on Earth using a language of His own creation. While no evidence of such a being exists, it is possible that Merlin was half-correct and magic was pre-existing in the natural world, obeying its own natural laws and languages. There is therefore great incentive for the wizarding world to seek out this fabled lingual origin point to maximize our usage and understanding of—"

"Oi, Prewett!"

Eva looked up from her book. Victoire Weasley's face was peeking between the blinds of her four-poster, looking expectantly at her.

"What?" Eva asked.

"Time for breakfast," Victoire tutted. "C'mon, you don't wanna be late on your first day!"

"Oh...that's weird," Eva muttered, glancing at her wrist. "My watch didn't go off." She'd set an alarm to warn her when it was time to get up, but it hadn't done so. In fact, it still displayed the time that she'd arrived at the castle the night before.

"Is that a Muggle watch?" Victoire snickered. "Of course it didn't go off; it won't work on Hogwarts grounds."

"Why not?" Eva frowned.

"Muggle contraptions go haywire within the boundaries," Victoire shrugged. "Always been that way, according to my dad. Don't ask me why."

That made little sense to Eva. Willoughby Academy was every bit as magical as Hogwarts, but she'd never had issues with Muggle devices there. Nearly all the Muggle-born students there wore watches, carried cell phones, and one had even hooked up a television in the Ignus common room in her second year. What made Hogwarts different that prevented the use of such devices? She would have to investigate this later...

Eva begrudgingly closed her copy of The Language of Magic and slipped it into her bag. It wasn't a required text for any of her classes, but she had always taken a strange sense of comfort from the text and its philosophical musings. Even if modern scholars dismissed the text as radical and speculative, and there was nothing remotely applicable to her studies, there was something compelling about its counter-intuitive ways of looking at the magical world. She knew most of it by heart anyway; she just wanted something familiar to center herself.

Eva followed Victoire down to the dining area, shaking her head to clear the morning cobwebs as the redhead chattered nonstop about everything and nothing. When they walked into the Great Hall, Eva stopped short, gaping at the sight. She had never seen such a majestic room, its regal long tables stretching the length of the space, the enchanted ceiling reflecting the brilliant blue sky outside. "C'mon, newbie, keep it moving!" Victoire laughed, taking Eva's hand and leading her over to the Gryffindor table. The red tablecloths were soothing to Eva, the same color as her old Ignus House. The little details like that helped to keep her grounded.

As soon as they were seated, Victoire snapped her fingers and held out an expectant hand. "Schedule," she demanded. Eva chuckled at the audacity, but she obliged, twirling her wand so that her class schedule flew out of her bag and into Victoire's awaiting hand.

"Rough luck," Victoire muttered, eyes flying across the page, "a full load for your first day. And Legilimency first thing in the morning? Better eat up." Victoire grabbed a nearby spoon and began shoveling scrambled eggs onto Eva's plate. Eva begrudgingly picked up a fork; she was feeling a bit queasy, but knew an empty stomach would do her no favors once classes began.

"What classes do you have today?" Eva asked as she took her first tentative bites of breakfast.

"We have Legilimency and Charms together this morning," Victoire mused, still poring over Eva's schedule. "Then I'm off to Care of Magical Creatures while you take your smarty-pants classes. You'll have to ask Candace to show you the way."

"Heads up, Weasley!" came a voice from nearby. From the corner of her eye, Eva saw a small object hurtling through the air towards Victoire; she instinctively reached out a hand and grabbed it before it collided with her head. She glared up at the offending party, prepared to fiercely chew him out, but Victoire was the first to speak.

"You prat!" Victoire laughed at the approaching boy. "You know I have no hand-eye coordination in the morning. I'll take that, Eva dear." Eva looked down at the object in her hand, realizing that it was actually a muffin. She handed it to Victoire, who took a hearty bite out of it as the thrower sat across the table from them – a tall, gangling boy about their age.

"Who's this?" asked the boy, indicating Eva.

"This is our new best friend, dummy!" Victoire sang through a mouthful of muffin. "Evangeline Prewitt, meet Chris Wood."

"Heya," said Chris, extending his hand to shake Eva's. "You new here?"

"Just transferred here from Willoughby, yes," Eva nodded. "Nice to meet you."

"That was a nice catch there," Chris noted with a crooked grin. "You don't happen to play Quidditch, do you?"

"Oh...no, I don't," Eva said quickly. "I'm deathly afraid of heights."

"Ah, that's no reason not to play!" Chris laughed. "Sure, you'll fall and crack a rib every couple of weeks, but that's half the fun of it. No one's died in like a decade. You should try out!"

"Yeah, maybe," Eva shrugged noncommittally as she tried to force herself to eat more. She had no intention of joining the Quidditch team, but figured she shouldn't argue the point so soon into her Hogwarts tenure. Thankfully, Victoire was quick to back her up.

"Not everyone is as Quidditch-obsessed as you, Chris," she chastised the boy teasingly. "Quit trying to recruit everyone to the team."

"I know, I know," Chris sighed dramatically, loading his plate to the brim with eggs and sausage. "I'm just getting tired of watching Macmillan fumble every Snitch capture during practice. Slytherin is going to cream us this year if we don't find a better Seeker!"

"What position do you play?" Eva asked politely.

"Keeper," said Chris, proudly puffing out his chest. "Just like my dad. I reckon I'll be made captain once Darby graduates next year. Did your parents play, by chance?"

"No," Eva muttered. The reminder of her parents threatened to unravel all of the confidence she'd built up over the course of the morning, so she quickly changed the subject again. "So what exactly do they teach in Legilimency, anyway?"

"Mostly how to anticipate oncoming spells," Victoire shrugged. "But don't worry, everyone's rubbish at it; I dunno why Potter bothers trying to teach it as a combat skill. Still bloody useful in other ways, though." She demonstrated by narrowing her eyes at Eva, who felt her mental barriers being prodded forcefully; she irritably swatted Victoire away with Occlumency, eliciting a devious giggle from the redhead.

Eva had noticed the increased assaults on her mind since she arrived at the castle, though she had chalked it up to curiosity about the new kid.. But it made sense now, knowing that it was actively encouraged as an offensive weapon – a skill she'd neglected to hone at Willoughby, always finding it intrusive and unpleasant. Her classmates enjoyed using Legilimency to torment others, prying into their minds and finding their weaknesses; Eva had instead focused on Occlumency to protect herself, not worrying herself with what others were thinking.

Minutes later, Victoire was leading the way through narrow corridors and portrait-hole shortcuts as they hustled to the fourth floor Legilimency classroom. They arrived just in the nick of time, finding seats near the back of the room, catching their breath as the other fifth-years chatted animatedly with one another. "I forgot to ask," Eva panted. "Who teaches this class?"

"Nobody told you?" said Victoire, surprised. Just then, the door opened, and a reverent hush fell over the students as Harry Potter walked into the room and strode briskly up the rows towards the head desk.

"Good morning, class," said Harry, giving everyone a polite nod. "We have a new student today: everybody say hello to Evangeline Prewett, a transfer from Willoughby Academy." The Gryffindors who had already met Eva gave her half-hearted nods, while the curious Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws looked her up and down, judging, discerning. She could feel the curious mental probes from several students, but she quickly Occluded them away. Just what I need, Eva thought bitterly to herself. A target on my head in the class about reading minds.

"Today, I want to assess everyone's progress in mental combat," Harry continued. "Everyone will break up into pairs, and we'll see how well you can predict incoming spells from your opponent." The class immediately began to negotiate groups; Eva turned expectantly towards Victoire, but she had already made eye contact with Chris Wood and affirmed their pair. Eva glanced around the room looking for a different partner; Candace and Amy had already paired up, and none of the other Houses even glanced her direction.

"Miss Prewitt, why don't you pair up with Mr. Hopkins?" Harry suggested, directing Eva towards an unpaired Slytherin boy. She nodded politely at him; he merely stared at her with an unreadable expression. She felt the prickling sensation intensify on her brain and focused hard on shutting it out.

"Let's start with Weasley and Wood," Harry said, clapping his hands for attention. "We'll see if you two jokesters have been paying attention this term." Victoire and Chris walked to the center of the room, which had been cleared for a mini-dueling area, and each took up fighting stances against one another, though neither looked to be taking things particularly serious.

The room hushed as they watched the two friends stare each other down. Eva wondered if they were milking the moment, or if there was some kind of intense mental battle happening between them. She realized a moment too late that the prickling sensation on her own mind had ceased, and realized everyone else must have directed their mental energy at the two. Maybe she was supposed to be doing the same…

But just then, Victoire made the first move. "Rictusempr—" she bellowed, beginning the wand movement for the spell, just as Chris made his own move.

"Stoicus!" Chris countered. His counter-curse hit Victoire's spell in midair, redirecting it back towards her. It hit her squarely in the stomach, and she keeled over, cackling with laughter at her own Tickling Charm.

"Very good, Mr. Wood," said Harry, waving his wand to undo the spell on Victoire. "You identified the spell being cast against you and performed the correct counter-curse. Ms. Weasley, perhaps a non-verbal spell would have better masked your intent before your opponent recognized the incantation."

"Or if she ever cast any other spell against me," Chris quipped, winking at Eva as he returned to the circle. The group watched a few more pairs take their turns, with far less success than Chris had. Most of the defenders were unable to even raise their wands in time for a Shield Charm or a counter-curse. Eva tried using Legilimency on each attacker to see if she could glean any information for herself, but only got a jumble of disconnected thoughts before a spell she hadn't expected was cast.

"Prewitt and Hopkins!" Harry announced. Eva walked uncertainly to the center of the room, where the Slytherin boy stood waiting for her.

"Kick her arse, Calvin!" another Slytherin boy heckled, as the non-Gryffindors laughed in appreciation. Calvin Hopkins smirked at the supporters, but Eva saw a dangerous look in his eye – this was not an opponent to be trifled with. She did her best to focus as she felt the all too familiar prickles from the surrounding students on her mind. She did not force them away, instead focusing all her attention on her opponent, who dropped into a ready stance.

Then, to Eva's surprise, Harry walked over to Calvin and whispered something in his ear. The boy smirked and nodded in understanding. Eva suddenly remembered she was meant to be using Legilimency. Legilimens, she thought, and felt a stream of information pouring in from all directions. She focused only on the boy across the circle from her, who made no effort to block her mental intrusions, and invited her right in.

She nearly recoiled at the sight of his thoughts, which were twisting and rapidly changing before her eyes. Images of complex spells she hadn't studied, curses with dubious effects, curses that could seriously injure her. Her breathing increased; was he about to cast a Dark spell against her? Was that allowed? Had Harry Potter instructed him to do so? She didn't know any appropriate counter-curses except the Shield Charm, which she knew wasn't strong enough to stop the darkest of spells. Was this fifteen year-old boy really capable of doing her serious harm?

Something caught her attention in the peripheries of her mental vision. A sort of hazy cloud forming around Calvin's wand, a cloud composed of a strange symbol she vaguely recognized. But from where? The symbol intensified as Calvin twirled his wand and jabbed it towards her, just as she remembered where she had seen it—

"Aguamenti!" Eva bellowed, sending a jet of cold water at her opponent. The flames that erupted from Calvin's wand were instantly extinguished by the deluge, and the boy himself was suddenly soaked from head to toe by the spell. The Gryffindors whooped in appreciation, but the Slytherins looked shocked, none moreso than Calvin himself.

"She must be cheating!" he complained to Harry. "I used the distraction technique you taught us, and I cast the spell non-verbally! There's no way she saw it in my mind!"

Eva snorted with laughter at the notion that she had cheated, but she realized that Harry, too, looked troubled by what she had done. She still felt the prickling of every student on her mind, and realized Harry himself must be among them, trying to glean what she had done.

"How did you know to use water, Miss Prewitt?" he asked calmly, with a note of accusation in his tone.

"Erm...I don't know," Eva stammered. "I thought he might use fire against me."

"But why?" Harry pressed. "He gave no such mental indication, and fire spells are uncommonly used in duels."

Eva couldn't even begin to explain how she'd done it, much less think of a cover story. "I recognized a symbol around his wand," she said honestly. "I thought I recognized it as fire from a book somewhere. It was a lucky guess, honestly."

"What book?" Harry demanded. Eva could feel the sharp pricks on her brain as he probed for the truth; she fought to keep it from him, but her emotions ran too high, and soon the cover of The Language of Magic floated to the surface of her mind, and Harry nodded in recognition.

"Hand it over, Miss Prewitt," he said, holding out an expectant hand. Eva sighed, then knelt down to rummage through her bag for the book. It was her most prized possession, the book she'd read as an eleven-year-old witch that taught her it was okay to be a Muggle-born, and she had no intention of handing it over. Shielding the contents of her bag with her shoulder as much as she could, and concealing her wand in her robe's sleeve, she tapped the cover of the book and thought, Proteus. A perfect copy of the book sprung into being, and Eva straightened, holding out the copy and handing it to Harry.

He held the book up for all to see. "The Language of Magic, by Hermione Granger," he announced, and a surprised hush fell over the crowd. "Seen by many as a revolutionary work in the field of theoretical magic. However, it's also largely unproven and potentially dangerous in practice, and is therefore banned for study at Hogwarts. You are forgiven for not knowing this as a transfer, Miss Prewitt, but I will be confiscating it and would discourage you from attempting any of its teachings again."

"Yes, sir," Eva muttered quietly, embarrassed at the many curious looks upon her face. Harry tucked the book under his arm and strode back to the center of the class.

"Next pair," he announced, thankfully diverting attention away from Eva, as two new students stepped into the circle for their duel. Eva slunk back into the crowd, where Victoire was eyeing her with a highly interested expression.

"What on earth was that?" Victoire demanded as soon as class was dismissed. "How did you read his mind so easily?"

"I didn't," Eva protested. She had been just as surprised that her gambit worked as everyone else. She remembered now where she recognized the odd symbol from now: a table in The Language of Magic that theorized alternate runic symbols for the major elements. It was just dumb luck that Calvin had used such a simple spell that she could recognize, and she didn't know how to explain that to the many curious eyes that followed her out of the classroom.

"I've never seen that look on Professor Potter's face before," Chris remarked. "Hopkins is one of the best duelists in the entire school. Nobody wants to pair with him because he trounces everyone he faces. Until today, that is." Just then, a gaggle of Slytherins hurried past, including Calvin, who was glaring intensely at Eva. She quickly looked away, fearing that she'd already made a powerful enemy in the castle. Despite the successful duel, she felt that she was already off to a poor start to the week...

Fortunately for her, their next class was Charms, which she had always considered a rather easy subject. It consisted mostly of memorizing incantations and wand movements, which she found herself quite adept at. The rest of the class seemed to agree, as there was a far more relaxed atmosphere here than in Legilimency.

"You'll love our Charms professor," Victoire winked at Eva. "He's my uncle, you know."

"How many relatives do you have teaching here?" asked Eva, bemused; she remembered that their Head of Household had also been Victoire's aunt.

"Only two, but luckily they're the cool ones," said Victoire. "My other uncles are all wet blankets."

"Where is he, anyway?" Chris wondered aloud, looking about the classroom. "Pretty rare for him not to be here on time."

"Aren't I?"

The entire class jumped as their Charms professor emerged from the back of the room, removing the Disillusionment Charm he'd been hiding under. He was a tall, redheaded man in his late thirties, but there was still a youthful spring in his step that told Eva that he may be just as much of a prankster as his niece.

"Fifty points to Gryffindor for calling me the cool uncle," said the professor with a wink at Victoire.

"Any time, Uncle Fred!" Victoire called after him with a wide grin.

"Hey, that's Professor Uncle Fred to you," said Fred Weasley with a faux-serious look in his eyes. "Fifty points from Gryffindor for your cheek. And who's this? A new student?" His eyes had landed on Eva beside Victoire.

"Yes, sir. I'm Eva Prewitt," said Eva, nodding politely. "Just transferred here from Willoughby."

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Prewitt," said Fred with a dramatic bow. "I'll do my best to make you feel at home. Now, for some bonus points, can you tell me what spell I just used to disguise myself?"

"A Disillusionment Charm," said Eva at once. "I've read about them, but they aren't commonly taught to fifth-years at my old school."

"Rightfully so," said Fred. "Five points to Gryffindor. Only seventh-years and above are permitted to attempt the spell, which can go awry if performed incorrectly. My twin brother once tried to Disillusion himself in his bed when our mother caught him reading dirty magazines. Took hours for his head to turn back from a pillow." The class guffawed at this anecdote; Eva didn't know if it was true or not, but she appreciated the levity and decided she already liked this 'Uncle Fred' well enough.

The lesson flew by relatively quickly, and Eva found it far easier to concentrate when her fellow students weren't actively attempting to penetrate her mind. She used the lecture to flip through her new Charms textbook, and to her relief the curriculum was not as different from Willoughby's as she feared. She had already memorized her old fifth year Charms book and only saw a handful of spells in the Hogwarts text that she didn't already know by heart. In fact, she could cast most of them non-verbally by now, including the Protean Charm, which had been extremely useful just an hour before.

Eva was already ravenous by the time they returned to the Great Hall for lunch; she understood now why Victoire had insisted on eating well before Legilimency, which had drained her energy. "Hey, Candace!" yelled Victoire across the room as Eva dug into a ham sandwich. Candace Clearwater slid down the table to join them. "I'm putting you in charge of the troublemaker this afternoon. You two have the nerd classes together."

"Since when am I the troublemaker?" Eva protested with a mouthful of bread.

"Since you got on the headmaster's bad side within your first hour of classes," Victoire shot back, sticking out her tongue playfully at Eva.

"You don't think he hates me already?" Eva wondered aloud, suddenly worried.

"Nah, you're fine," Chris reassured her. "Aside from the banned book, which you didn't know about, there's no way you did anything he can get worked up about."

"I'd watch out for the Slytherins, though," muttered Candace, indicating the table across the room from them. "Haven't seen Calvin Hopkins look that rattled in years." Eva followed her gaze, where the same group of Slytherin fifth-years were huddled together and whispering in hushed tones. One of them looked directly at Eva, then quickly looked away, confirming her suspicion of what – or whom – they were discussing.

"Good thing you're not Muggle-born," Victoire quipped. Eva's heart skipped a beat at that statement.

"Is that still a problem here?" she asked, alarmed. She knew that blood bigotry ran deep in Great Britain but had assumed the last war had stamped most of it out by now.

"Not really, though you never know with some of the Slytherins," said Candace darkly. "Those old pure-blood families may have reformed publicly, but some prejudices are hard to break." Eva felt a chill run down her spine as she noted the stern expressions on the Slytherins' faces and resolved not to get on their bad side, focusing on her lunch to keep her mind off of it.

Candace led the way to Eva's next class, Ancient Runes. The professor, an elderly witch named Professor Babbling, came tottering out of her office at the top of the hour and assessed the classroom. "I see that we have a new student today," she said, nodding curtly to Eva in the front row. "Welcome, dear. Unfortunately, we have a practical exam scheduled for today, and I won't be able to accommodate you. You will simply have to do your best, and I will grade you fairly based on effort."

Great, Eva groaned internally. This was already the class she was dreading the most, having dropped the subject at Willoughby the previous year, and now she would be immediately judged on her knowledge (or lack thereof). She exchanged a grim look with Candace as Professor Babbling walked around the classroom, handing out blank runestones to each student. Eva stared blankly down at her three stones, mentally wracking her brain and trying to remember the last Runes text she read…

"Today's exam is simple," said Professor Babbling once everyone had their runestones in front of them. "You have twenty minutes to carve three runes, one that will deflect air, water, and fire each. No use of notes! I will then test everyone's runes and grade based on how well your rune responds to each element. You may begin."

Almost at once, the students all around Eva begin to mutter incantations under their breath, using their wands to carve into their blank stones. Eva took a deep breath to steady herself. Elemental protections, she said to herself, mind racing. I can do this. She had studied the topic last term; she should know this. She pointed her wand at the first runestone, trying to remember the etymological tree for air. Air...aire...ayr...aḗrus…She vaguely remembered a symbol resembling an exploding star, but wasn't sure if it related to air itself or simply the oxygen contained within it. No time for second-guessing now, she thought, and began to carve.

The water rune was no easier to remember. She struggled to deconstruct the aqua root to its origin point, and for that matter had no clue how to repel water. She could clearly remember the crashing wave symbol needed to summon it, but how could she alter it to produce the opposite effect? Would a slash through the center of the symbol do the trick? She doubted it, but could think of no better alternatives, so she quickly carved a crude wave symbol and slashed through it before moving on to the third runestone.

"Three minutes remaining," Professor Babbling announced, and Eva's stomach dropped. She couldn't remember a single thing about fire runes, and probably wouldn't have come up with the solution if she had another full hour to think. She stared at the blank stone for a long while, contemplating whether she should just turn it in as is, but Babbling said she would grade her based on effort so she ought to at least try something. Think, Eva told herself, think…

All she could think of was Calvin Hopkins trying to set her on fire earlier that morning, and the strange symbol she had seen hovering around her wand: a semi-circle with a jagged right edge. She had never seen the symbol appear in any Runes textbook before and doubted it would accomplish much, but she carved it into her runestone anyway, figuring it was better than nothing.

But how to repel it? Eva wondered to herself. She thought back to The Language of Magic sitting on her bedside table back in the dorms, and the upside-down triangle that the author theorized formed the foundation of the Shield Charm. Better than nothing, Eva groaned internally, carving the triangle around the semi-circle just as Professor Babbling called for time. Eva brought her three runestones up to the front of the class and placed them in the designated boxes, already dreading her result.

"Everyone line up against the back wall," Professor Babbling instructed, waving her wand to push the desks aside as the students obeyed. She then pointed her wand at the first box, and the runestones within zoomed into the air and hung suspended there, facing them all in a neat row. Eva spotted her own near the end of the line; she saw with relief that she had at least drawn the correct rune, though hers didn't look as clean as most of the others.

"Aerolus," Babbling said clearly, and a stream of gusting wind emitted from the end of her wand. She ran it across the row of runes, and each glowed blue as the wind attempted to knock it out of the air. Most sent the stream of wind gusting off in different directions, repelled by the runes. A few of the runes glowed a dull yellow, rattling and vibrating from the force of the jet; others flashed a brilliant red before shooting off across the room, shattering against the opposite wall. Once she reached the end of the row, Babbling lowered her wand.

"Good," she said crisply. "Clearwater, well done, full marks. Burton, you've mixed up the symbols for ayr and eyre again; be more mindful of that. Prewitt, your carving work was sloppy; be more precise with your wandwork next time." Eva nodded sullenly; her rune had been one that glowed yellow and been knocked askance. At least she had the symbol mostly right…

Babbling moved on to the second box, arranging the water runes in a row like before. Eva saw with a jolt of embarrassment that hers looked nothing like the others – as she feared, the crashing wave sign had nothing to do with repelling water. Babbling shot a jet of water down the row of runes; most of them sent the water spitting out in other directions as intended, but when the jet reached Eva's rune, the water seemed to intensify, sending a new jet streaming across the room, sending half of the students diving for cover as it splashed aggressively against the wall.

Babbling quickly turned off the water and casting drying charms on the students that were hit. "That's...not quite right, Prewitt," she sighed, and Eva could see the disappointment in the professor's gaze. Thankfully she moved right along, grading the rest of the row of runes before moving on to the third.

Eva didn't even want to watch the third row tested. As expected, her rune looked nothing like the others, standing out like a sore thumb in the center of the floating row of stones. She wondered if she would get in trouble if the rune backfired again and set the other half of the students aflame. Would Babbling even allow her to remain in the class? She watched with trepidation as the professor raised her wand once more.

"Incendio!" she announced clearly, and a jet of flames spewed from her wand tip towards the first rune in the row. But then, to everyone's astonishment, a different rune glowed a brilliant white, overpowering the light blue glow of the surrounding runes. The flames from Babbling's wand, rather than shoot off in different directions, seemed to disappear completely in a puff of smoke, unable to approach the row of runes at all. Babbling immediately canceled the spell and approached the row of runes, plucking the offending runestone out of line.

"Whose rune is this?" she demanded, expression unreadable, holding up the stone for all to see. Eva's stomach dropped. The rune, still glowing a duller white, was the unmistakable form of a jagged semi-circle inscribed within an upside-down triangle. She sheepishly raised her hand.

"Who taught you this rune?" Babbling demanded. "I have never taught these symbols before."

"Um," Eva stammered, unsure how to properly explain herself. "I recognized it from somewhere," she eventually managed. "I don't remember where."

Babbling scrutinized her expression, eyes narrowed. Eva wasn't sure if she was about to receive detention or full marks. "Hmph," Babbling finally said, tossing Eva's rune back into the box. "You're Australian, yes? I'll be having a word with Willoughby about their use of non-standardized textbooks. Please learn the British curriculum from now on, Miss Prewitt."

"Yes, ma'am," Eva said solemnly. But internally, she felt a pang of irritation at the chastising remarks. The rune had worked, hadn't it? Sure, maybe it wasn't conventional, but it successfully repelled the fire! She glanced sideways at Candace and Amy, who were looking at her with visible astonishment on their faces. Clearly they hadn't seen anything like this before. That gave Eva a small sense of satisfaction as Babbling concluded the exam and dismissed the class.

"How did you do that?!" demanded Amy Burton the second they reached the sixth floor corridor. Candace also looked eagerly for an answer, as did half of the Hufflepuffs who had not-so-subtly lingered around to hear what Eva had to say.

"I don't know," Eva said honestly, a tone of exasperation in her voice. "I ran out of time and had to make something up on the spot."

"You made that up on the spot?!" one of the Hufflepuff boys chimed in. "I've never seen a rune behave like that."

"Do they really teach alternate symbols at Willoughby?" asked a Hufflepuff girl eagerly.

"I don't think so," Eva mumbled, not sure how to explain to them that she hadn't learned the symbols at Willoughby at all. In fact, she'd also never seen a rune behave like that, glowing white instead of blue. She was growing uncomfortable with the number of curious eyes following her down the corridor, feeling increasingly guilty about the forbidden copy of The Language of Magic still lurking in her bag...

Luckily, she was saved at that moment by Candace, who swore loudly at the sound of chiming bells in the distance. "Come on, Prewitt, we'll be late for Arithmancy!" she shouted, grabbing Eva by the arm and guiding her off down the corridor.

Eva was grateful that her Arithmancy teacher, another older witch named Professor Vector, did not single her out as the new girl once again and dove straight into the lecture for the day. Eva had always found the class somewhat soothing; it wasn't exciting by any means, but learning about the numerical foundations of magic and the infinite ways numbers could be arranged for magical means was an alluring topic. Better yet, it required her full attention to grasp the more complex concepts, which allowed her to tune out the whispering of students that now seemed to follow her everywhere.

The whispering did not cease as classes were dismissed for the day and students trickled back to the Great Hall for dinner. And Eva was not the only one to notice it, either. "Someone's quite popular already," remarked Amy Burton as she caught up with Eva on the way downstairs. "You're the talk of the school, Prewitt."

"I wouldn't call that popularity," Eva grumbled. "Usually that means I'm included in the conversations, not the butt of the joke."

"It's no joke," remarked Candace as she joined the other two girls. "People think you're some kind of magical savant. I'd say they're impressed or afraid – maybe both."

"Excellent," said Eva. "No better way to make new friends than to be put on a pedestal for no bloody reason." Candace and Amy found this very funny for some reason, giggling at Eva's plight as they filed into the Great Hall and found seats for dinner.

Victoire and Chris trudged into the Great Hall soon after, caked in mud from head to foot. They plopped onto the bench besides Eva with hearty groans. "Hagrid accidentally set half the Nifflers loose during lessons," Chris explained, reaching for the nearest pitcher of pumpkin juice. "Had to dig after 'em before they could burrow too far underground. That man's losing his grip, I've been saying it for years…"

"He means well enough," Victoire shrugged, loading her plate with casserole. "So Candace, how did our little troublemaker do in the nerd classes?"

"Wait 'til you hear this," Candace said excitedly. And she recounted the events of their Ancient Runes class, including a dramatic retelling of how Eva's rune had completely eliminated Professor Babbling's spell. Victoire's eyes went wide at this.

"Eva, why didn't you tell us you're like a super-genius?" she demanded.

"I'm not!" Eva protested bitterly. "I just got lucky, that's all."

"I've heard some of the other Houses talking," chimed in Amy. "They think she's still using Granger's forbidden magic. Bet the Headmaster won't be happy when he finds out."

Eva's stomach turned at this thought. Would she get in trouble with Harry Potter twice in the same day? She'd already broken Hogwarts' tantamount rule two times within twenty-four hours of stepping foot in Hogwarts – it's like she was trying to fast-track her own expulsion.

"Can we not talk about this right now?" she muttered. Thankfully conversation turned elsewhere, and Eva did her best to focus on something else. She was already deliriously tired from the day's events, and knew she wouldn't be able to get any homework done tonight. She trudged up to Gryffindor Tower after dinner concluded and went straight to bed, falling asleep before she could even worry about what tomorrow might bring. Surely it couldn't be any worse than today had been…


Fortunately, Eva was right. Tuesday was a far less eventful day than Monday, and she realized with relief that she only had two classes in the morning before getting the whole afternoon off. She could focus on getting some classwork done and try to re-calibrate before throwing herself back into the fray on Wednesday. She and Vic made their way down to the dungeons for Potions, which was taught by a portly old wizard with a glorious handlebar mustache.

Eva was not as lucky as she was in Arithmancy, as Professor Slughorn noticed her right away as he began the lesson. "Oho! A new student?" he said excitedly. "And who might you be, dear?"

"Evangeline Prewitt, sir," said Eva politely.

"Prewitt, Prewitt, Prewitt…" Slughorn muttered, tapping himself thoughtfully on the chin. "You are perhaps related to the Aurors, Fabian and Gideon? Or the great broomstick manufacturer, Ignatius?"

"No, sir," said Eva. "I transferred here from Australia."

"Ah," said Slughorn, looking a bit put-out. "I admit I am unfamiliar with Australia's magical bloodlines. But welcome nonetheless, and good luck in the class."

Eva noticed that Victoire was snickering as Slughorn waddled up to the front of the room to begin the lesson. "What?" she hissed across the cauldron at her.

"Slughorn likes to play favorites," Victoire explained. "He dotes on his students that excel at Potions or have a famous wizarding relative. You'd better hope you're as much of a savant here as you are in other subjects."

Eva wasn't all that interested in playing favorites with this Slughorn character, and she knew she was above-average at best at potion-making. Indeed, she had to rely pretty heavily on her partners for the day's assignment: brewing an antidote for salamander poisoning. She was good at following instructions, but lacked the intuition and creativity needed to know which ingredients and subtle techniques would best serve her for a given potion. Her last Potions Master had told her as much at Willoughby, criticizing her for not thinking outside the box enough. And right now, the last thing Eva wanted to do at Hogwarts was draw more attention to herself by thinking outside the box.

Slughorn walked by her station only once, giving only a passing nod of mild approval. Eva barely finished her potion in time, bottling a sample for Slughorn minutes after the bell had rang. She could already tell that she would be lucky to escape with an 'Acceptable' O.W.L. result in this subject and doubted she would continue past fifth year anyway. It would certainly align with her cover story of her parents dying in a freak cauldron explosion.

Up next was Transfiguration, another subject Eva felt adequate at best in. Like with Potions, she felt that she lacked the creativity and intuition to excel. The possibilities of transfiguring objects were endless, and while she could grasp the more advanced concepts behind the magic, she could only succeed if she knew exactly what she was transfiguring into and had sufficient time to prepare. And unfortunately, she was about to learn that this was the opposite philosophy she would need at Hogwarts.

"Welcome to our new student," said the Transfiguration teacher at the start of class, Professor Sadie Blanchett, a spry young witch in her mid-30's. "Here at Hogwarts, the Headmaster wants to emphasize the combat potential of transfiguration and how to think quickly on your feet in a tight spot. Can anybody tell me what this is?"

Professor Blanchett reached into a desk drawer and withdrew a small, silvery object. Candace Clearwater's hand shot into the air. "A dagger, Professor," she said eagerly.

"Correct," said Blanchett. "Imagine you are walking down the street and a Muggle approaches you with this dagger. How would you defend yourself?"

"A Body-Bind Curse," said Chris Wood.

"That would work, yes," said Blanchett. "But imagine the weapon has been thrown or fired before you can cast such a spell. What next?"

"A Shield Charm?" suggested a Ravenclaw girl.

"Surprisingly no," said Blanchett. "Shield Charms can block most magical attacks, but because Muggle weapons are not magical, they will pass right through."

Eva had an idea of where this lesson was going, and she knew she wouldn't like the answer. "Transfigure the weapon?" she suggested.

"Very good; five points to Gryffindor," said Blanchett. "If you can turn the weapon into something less threatening, you can remove the actual source of damage." Blanchett waved her wand with her other hand, and the dagger was transformed into a banana. However, Blanchett winced and dropped the item at once; Eva could see on the floor that the fruit still bore sharp edges along its ridges.

"Right, well, that's the idea anyway," Blanchett laughed, waving her wand again to heal the thin cuts that had formed in her palm. "Today your assignment will be transfiguring your own dagger into a less dangerous object. Points for creativity and how effectively you would have defended yourself."

The class was then left to their own individual daggers as they attempted to transform them. Eva wracked her brain for how best to deal with the object. The dagger was made of silver, so if she could just return it to its liquid form, she could remove the blade and leave the holder with just a hilt. After a few failed attempts, she finally succeeded, leaving a bubbling puddle of silvery liquid on her desk. But to her horror, it bore straight through the wooden desk; Eva flung herself backwards to avoid burning her legs in the scalding liquid.

"Not a bad idea, Miss Prewitt," said Professor Blanchett, who hurried over to Vanish the dangerous substance. "Although silver has a melting point of nearly 1,000 degrees Celsius, which creates its own risks. Keep searching for an alternate solution."

Eva was frustrated by the result, not only because of the dangerous side-effect but because any attacker would have stabbed her about fifty times before she succeeded in the first place. Her weakness was always thinking quick on her feet, and that seemed to be Potter's objective with the class. She already knew she would have to work extra hard in this subject, and dreaded any kind of practical exam she would be expected to perform.

"That wasn't so bad," said Victoire as they left for lunch soon after. "I turned mine into a rubber duck...good luck shanking me with that, Muggles!"

Chris seemed less enthused by the results; he had received detention for turning his dagger into a certain long, rubbery object that made the girls around him giggle furiously. "Whatever; Blanchett's a hack anyway," he muttered bitterly.

"She didn't seem very adept at transfiguring objects herself," Eva noted. "Did you see what happened with the banana?"

"We've been saying that for four and a half years now," Victoire laughed. "We've been taking bets on if she'll survive another year, but Potter always brings her back. He must like her for some reason."

"She's not a bad looker," Chris said with a twinkle in his eye. "I'd probably keep her around too."

"If that phallic display was an attempt to woo her, then you deserved that detention," Victoire chastised him. Chris did not deny it, earning himself a playful punch on the arm from the redhead.

Eva was relieved to have the afternoon off, because she already felt hopelessly behind on coursework. Not only did she have numerous assignments to complete, she still needed to study the curriculum and make sure she didn't fall too far behind her peers in the trickier subjects. She excused herself early from lunch and headed straight to the library, commandeering two tables for herself and spreading all her books and notes out across them. She earned a reproving look from Madam Pince for this, but was thankfully left alone as she set to work.

Minutes bled into hours as she worked tirelessly to get herself up to speed. But this was her comfort zone, her sanctuary; she thrived on delving deep into the details, on committing herself fully to the task. The only thing she hated about a prolonged study session was an interruption, and unfortunately she got one as she attempted to complete her Arithmancy homework. She felt the sensation that someone was poking her directly in the back of the head, and she turned to see a sheet of paper, folded up like an airplane, prodding her for attention.

Eva plucked the note out of midair and unfolded it. It read:

Miss Prewitt,

I am requesting your presence this afternoon in my office. Please come as soon as you are able. The password is 'Willoughby.'

-Headmaster Potter

Eva's heart sank. She knew this moment was coming – she'd already gotten in trouble with Potter this week, and now he had surely heard about the incident in Ancient Runes yesterday. She gathered her things and hurried up to the Headmaster's Office, arriving in front of the great stone gargoyle guarding its entrance. "Willoughby," she announced, and it stepped aside to grant her access to the staircase up to the office.

Harry was waiting for her behind his desk. "Thank you for coming, Eva," he said cordially, nodding towards the empty chair across from him. She tentatively sat, waiting for the inevitable chewing-out she expected. She heard a soft cooing noise to her right; she turned to see Archimedes in his uncovered cage, dozing peacefully on his perch.

"How is your first week treating you?" Harry asked, examining her with his intimidating green eyes.

"Not bad," Eva shrugged. "I have some catching up to do, but I'll manage."

"Glad to hear it," Harry nodded. "I wanted to speak with you about this." He reached into his desk drawer and retrieved a small object, and Eva groaned internally when she saw her fire rune from Professor Babbling's exam in his palm.

"Sir, I apologize," she said immediately, bowing her head. "I know you said not to use Granger's teachings again, but I panicked and couldn't remember the proper rune, and I had to carve something—"

"Relax," said Harry, holding up his free hand to silence her. "You aren't in trouble, Eva. In fact, I just had a fascinating conversation with Professor Babbling in which she gushed about this very rune. She has run extensive tests and found it to be among the most potent runes she's ever encountered. She would have submitted it for academic study if I hadn't headed her off."

"Oh," said Eva, face flushing with surprise – and pride. "I honestly don't know how I did it, sir."

"I suspect we both know how," said Harry, reaching back into his desk drawer, "even if you and I don't fully understand it ourselves." He pulled out the copy of The Language of Magic that he'd confiscated from her the morning before.

"I recognized the upside-down triangle symbol from her chapter on the Shield Charm," Eva confessed. "And the fire symbol was what I saw when Calvin Hopkins tried to use Incendio against me in our duel."

"Very clever," Harry mused, considering the book in his hand. "I didn't realize this book was in circulation in Australia. Is Miss Granger well-known abroad?"

"Of course, sir," Eva nodded. "She's...well, she's sort of my hero."

Harry's eyes flashed at this innocuous remark, but he quickly smiled, so quickly that Eva thought she might have imagined it. "Really?" he asked. "I suppose it makes sense. The Muggle-born savior of the world...anyone would be justified in looking up to her."

Eva nodded in agreement. She'd heard the name Hermione Granger discussed all her life, by Muggles and wizards alike – the woman who fought so hard to protect Muggle-borns during the war and helped the great Harry Potter overthrow Lord Voldemort. Ever since she found out she was a wizard, Eva had seen Hermione as someone to aspire towards – a shining example of what Muggle-borns could be capable of. But she said none of this, sensing that Harry was probing her reaction. Was that anger that had flashed in his eyes, or just surprise? Jealousy, maybe? Hard to say.

"As I said, Eva, you are not in trouble," Harry continued, thankfully changing the topic. "Such ingenuity at your age is quite impressive. And your understanding of advanced theoretical concepts is far beyond any other student I've met in these halls."

"But I thought you didn't teach Granger's theories at Hogwarts?" Eva frowned, confused.

"Our sixth- and seventh-years have begun exploring some of her more practical contributions to magical theory," Harry corrected. "That is not the reason the book is banned here. Can you guess why that might be?"

"Erm...I'm not sure," Eva said truthfully.

Harry opened to the front of the book and began to read from the foreword. "Magic as an independent source of energy in the natural world can theoretically be accessed by any sentient being," he read. "The difference between wizards and Muggles is not scientifically well-understood, but a genetic component appears to be at play. While Squibs and Muggle-borns appear in every generation, most magical ability is hereditary, passed from wizard to wizard. Given a deeper understanding of the science behind such a phenomenon, we could in theory learn to edit the genome and provide magical access to previously non-magical persons."

Harry shut the book and looked back at Eva. "Can you see how such an idea might be a dangerous one to propagate in the world?" he asked her.

"I don't quite understand," Eva frowned. It seemed like a noble-enough goal to her – exploring ways to share magic with Muggles. Who would be against such an idea?

"This book is a best-seller in the Muggle world because of that very paragraph," said Harry. "It provides a false hope that one day they will be able to perform magic as we can. Can't you see how that might breed resentment in these people? To allow them to believe that they can partake in our world, and that we are withholding our powers from them?"

"But if we could share it, wouldn't that be beneficial for all?" Eva asked innocently.

"Certainly," Harry agreed. "But what if her theory is wrong, and we cannot?"

A chill ran down Eva's spine at this thought. She remembered sharing that very passage with her parents over the dinner table, just weeks before she left for her first year at Willoughby. She couldn't understand at the time why they weren't as enthusiastic as she was – that one day they might be able to learn magic as she had. Now she realized how that must have seemed like rubbing it in their faces – that she was somehow genetically superior to them. Suddenly the C.A.W. movement made a whole lot more sense…

"You seem to understand this text better than any other student at this school, even our upperclassmen," said Harry. "I will allow you to keep your copy and learn what you can from it. But I must caution you to stick to the practical applications of the theory, and disregard Granger's more philosophical ideas about magic in nature."

"Thank you, sir," Eva nodded. Harry handed out the book towards her, and she extended her hand expectantly. He held it just out of reach for a moment, a twinkle in his eye, then with a smirk, he twirled his wand and Vanished the book. Eva gave him a quizzical look.

"You thought I didn't notice your nonverbal Protean Charm in class the other day?" he smiled at her. "I daresay the copy was as flawless as the original. I was so impressed that I didn't say anything."

"Sorry, sir," Eva muttered, dropping her head again in embarrassment.

"Never apologize for an impressive piece of magic like that," Harry admonished her. "I doubt a single seventh-year in this castle would be able to reproduce it. In fact, I haven't seen such an impressive Protean Charm since Minister Granger herself, back in her own fifth-year. It was something of a specialty of hers."

Eva knew this, of course. She had devoured every biography she could find on Hermione Granger upon entering the magical world, and she knew all about Dumbledore's Army and her innovative use of fake Galleons for communication. But she simply nodded graciously to Harry. "Thank you, sir," she said.

"One last thing," said Harry. "I notice you've been spending time with Victoire Weasley lately."

"Yes," Eva said slowly, unsure why this would be important. Was he going to tell her off for hanging around a trouble-maker like her?

"The Weasleys are good people," Harry said instead. "Their family fought alongside me during the war. You have good taste surrounding yourself with people like them."

"Oh," said Eva. "Yes, Vic seems nice."

"I quite agree," Harry beamed. "You are dismissed, Miss Thomas...or rather, Miss Prewitt. It's best to stay in the habit of our cover story, I think."

"Thank you, Professor," Eva bowed, standing to leave the office. She still didn't quite understand why she was going through the charade of pretending to be a pure-blood, but figured he must know something she didn't.

But that was the least of the things running through her mind as she walked back up to Gryffindor Tower. She was still burning with questions about Harry's relationship with Hermione Granger. He didn't seem to regard her with enmity in their discussion, though he clearly had significant disagreements with her ideas about magic. She would have to keep her ears open, and she hoped that Harry's newfound respect for her talents would grant her greater insight into his frame of mind.

British wizarding politics are far more complicated than in Australia, she thought to herself as she got into bed that night. But also far more interesting.


A/N: The original plan was to cover Eva's entire first week at Hogwarts in this chapter, but it ran too long so I'm breaking it up into two. Stay tuned for the next chapter covering the rest of the week!