Author's Note: Hello! I've already put up two chapters but this is my very first time sharing fanfic I've written. All credit and rights to JKR of course, nothing belongs to me! Please leave reviews and give the story a follow 3
Emma walked into Hogwarts with her head held high. When she entered the Great Hall she saw many heads swivel in her direction, and she confidently strode to the Ravenclaw table, where she seated herself amongst the other 5th years. She hugged friends unseen for years, and answered as many questions about France as she could before Professor Dumbledore took the podium.
"Good evening students, and welcome back to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before we begin, a few announcements. The staff would like to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Godwin. We would also like to welcome back the Howard-Shelley siblings after their time in France at Beauxbatons, Lewis and Emma, you all know and their younger brothers Fitzwilliam and Giles, third and second years respectively, will be sorted immediately preceding the new class of first years. And now, I leave you with a few words of wisdom as a new year begins: let each person around you demonstrate exactly who they are."
Dumbledore sat back down in his seat at the high table, with a swish of silver robes. Emma remembered that he always left the students with some vague words of advice at the start of each term, but no such tradition had been carried on by Madame Maxine. She had missed the quirks of Hogwarts, she realized. Just then, her two younger brothers filed into the hall with Professor Slughorn, where he led them to the sorting hat. It was put on Fitzwilliam's head first.
"SLYTHERIN!" The hat roared. Cheers arose from the table to her left and she saw Lewis beaming with pride. Giles was next. The hat didn't say anything for two minutes.
"Slytherin." It said simply, darkly. The Slytherins cheered again but it was more muted this time. Emma wasn't sure what to make of it. Did the sorting hat often change his tone of voice? At least she could give Mother some good news tonight in her letter.
That was the thing about Vera, her mother. There was never a day where the mother and daughter went without contact. Emma knew that it would only increase now that they were back in Britain and Mother was eager to keep an eye on the goings-on at Hogwarts.
"You're the one with the brains, Emma. You need to be my ears there. Trouble has been brewing at Hogwarts for some time." Vera would say to her daughter.
Emma thought of this as she watched her brothers all sit together at the Slytherin table. Shame overtook her when she thought about the fact that she was the only one, the only one in her family to be excluded from the house. She began to make mental notes of all around her. There were so many faces in here she did not know, everything she learned about this place would have to be from scratch. Who were friends, who were enemies, who were pure and who were muggle borns. If she did well, Mother would be pleased. Emma scanned the Slytherin table, and caught Narcissa staring at her brother Lewis. She passed by the Hufflepuffs and as usual, nothing of interest was happening there. Finally, her own house, the Ravenclaws. Second only to Slytherin in their proportion of purebloods, and the best marks in the school. She was proud, very proud to be amongst this group again. And lastly, she saw the Gryffindors, where Sirius Black had his arm around a curvy blonde in a Hufflepuff yellow cardigan.
She slipped out during the sorting, caring little about the new first years. Instead she took the opportunity to roam the castle alone, while the rest of the school feasted. She had little appetite these days, and knew how to get something to eat if she needed it. Though she had wanted to see the school for herself again, having missed the portraits, staircases, hidden alcoves and tapestries after two years of the ornate, Versailles-esq Beauxbaton, she had a purpose. Mother had told her to seek out something specifically. It was on the seventh floor, a corridor on the west side of the castle, under a portrait.
Julian Scintillian Potter IV.
It was an ancestor of Mother's, a 13th century wizard who'd died defending Hogwarts from a party of raiding muggles, or so her mother had told her as a little girl. Beneath his portrait were three grooves in the stonework. Checking her surroundings, Emma retrieved her wand and tapped the grooves in the pattern her mother had taught her.
Left, right, center, center, right, left. The wall behind the portrait cracked slightly, enough for her to squeeze through. Inside was a small dank room, lined with bookshelves, a small desk, and a glass encasement holding three precious artifacts: the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, and the locket of Salazar Slytherin.
Though she had returned to Hogwarts to be a good student, to select a fine pureblood husband, her main objective was to protect these items for the Dark Lord, to catalogue the muggleborns and the purebloods, to study every professor and staff member, to cultivate a force for blood purity, for wizarding supremacy.
It was her task to recruit young Death Eaters, but she did not yet know. For now, she saw herself as a storyteller, a historian, maybe a spy. But nothing harmful, she told herself. These are precious wizarding artifacts that must be kept safe from unclean hands. Mother only cares about witches and wizards here.
Emma recorded in the ledger upon the desk, just as she had been told. She wrote the date, her name, and all she had learned that day, in the sparest of details.
Lucius and Narcissa
Alice and Frank
Sirius Black
Flower-name muggleborn
Demonstrate exactly who they are
She could hear a clamor in the hall far below her, the sounds of a horde of students making their way up to the dormitories. She quickly closed the ledger and exited the secret room, and scurried toward Ravenclaw tower. She'd have to send mother a letter after the castle went to bed.
When she arrived to the portrait, the riddle of the day was posed to her:
"Only one color, but not one size,
Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies.
Present in sun, but not in rain,
Doing no harm, and feeling no pain.
What is it?"
Emma paused, and then answered, "A shadow."
The portrait opened and inside she found a slew of Ravenclaws, chatting quietly with mugs of tea and books upon their laps. It was exactly as she remembered it. The rich blue of the tapestries, the cosy chairs, an atmosphere of quiet. She waved to a few people who stared at her, but she really didn't know who they were. She didn't see any of the girls in her year, and made her way up the staircase to their dormitory.
Inside the girls of her year were unpacking and chatting. She was happy to see them. The girls of Ravenclaw were like her; quiet, studious, always watching what was going on. They were all half-bloods or more, which was her saving grace when Mother had flown into a rage after her sorting. In the doorway she watched them all.
Amelia Bones was detailed and methodical as she unpacked her trunks. She was a serious witch, tall and brown haired, with a strong sense of justice and fairness. Once she decided on something to do, a friend to make, a place for her things, her decision was final. She was a half-blood from a family of ministry barristers and Wizengamot warlocks.
Emmeline Vance was the creative one. Her skin was freckled and she had rich auburn hair. She had charmed the bed-hangings to sparkle slightly, silver and gold twinkling specks on the blue drapings. Rolls upon rolls of parchment bustled out of her trunk, and large tanks of ink were bottled up in there. She was Emma's closest friend, owing to their similar names. She was also a half-blood.
Louisa Crabbe was sitting on her bed, performing small spells for her grey kitten, Morgain, to chase around. Short and soft with curly ash-brown hair, Louisa came from the pureblood Crabbe family, one her mother did not care to associate with. The Crabbes were gruff and impulsive, but Louisa was different from her hulking older brothers. She cared for small things, like kittens and plants and frightened first years. Her gentleness was a good contrast to Amelia's steadfast, stubborn nature.
Rounding out their year was Genevieve Belcour, another pureblood. Genevieve was cousin to Lucius Malfoy on the other side of his family. She had spent a lot of time with Emma's family as a child. Her hair was so blonde it was nearly silver, and her eyes were a stark ice blue. She was carefree, musical, and bright. It was hard for Emma to believe that Genevieve and she shared a cousin, for Lucius was nothing of the sort. Genevieve was humming a tune to herself as she dressed in her pajamas.
"A picture of domestic bliss." Emma drawled from the corner and closed the door behind her.
Genevieve and Emmeline enveloped her in a great hug, while Louisa sheepishly stood behind. Amelia patted her back primly.
"The courtesan has returned to soggy Scotland at last." Genevieve giggled.
"Courtesan? Really Gen, I doubt she became THAT french in two years." Amelia rolled her eyes. Emma laughed.
"Beauxbaton is certainly more, well, liberated than Hogwarts. But I am still a good witch, don't you worry." Emma winked at Genevieve.
"Some in this room can't say the same." Emmeline said in a suggestive tone.
"Who!?" Emma exclaimed, her head turning to stare at each of her dorm-mates.
"Guilty." Genevieve said with a plop upon her bed.
"Genny spent the summer skinny dipping with James Potter in Cornwall." Louisa purred quietly.
Emma raised an eyebrow and said nothing. She didn't completely disapprove, Potter was her own cousin and came from good pureblood stock. But his parents had always been of a more liberal mind toward muggleborns than the rest of the family.
"Well, in a way, yes. But that isn't all we did." Genevieve leaned back against her pillows with a suggestive sigh.
"Genevieve Belcour, you slag." Emma said sarcastically.
Genevive feigned shock and hurt at Emma's teasing. They all laughed. Even Amelia.
"It seems everyone has done some growing up since you left, Emma. Gen is shagging Potter, Louisa got caught in a broom closet with a Hufflepuff by Slughorn last spring, Emmeline has snogged half of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and I came in second in the class." Amelia said.
"Now that is shocking, Ames. Who beat you out?"
"Lily Evans, Gryffindor. Damn clever witch. And Slughorn just adores her. If it weren't for her potions marks I'd have top spot."
Lily Evans. So that was who Narcissa had mentioned on the train. Lily the muggleborn.
"I'll be content if I never hear the name Lily Evans for the rest of my life." Genevieve said.
"Oh?" Emma asked, undressing and putting on her own powder blue nightgown.
"James Potter has been stuck on Lily since third year." Louisa interjected.
"Had. Was. Past tense, Lou. He's definitely over her now." Genevieve said. Emma wasn't convinced by the blonde's emphatic reply. Potter and a muggleborn? She would have to hurry to the owlery after her roommates went to sleep tonight and get her letter off to Mother after all.
The girls continued sharing their gossip before they turned the lights out. Emma stayed wide awake as she thought over what she would write to Mother.
There's nothing wrong with being muggleborn, she thought. Father has distant ancestors who were muggleborn after all. And we are still a great family, respected by Lord Voldemort. Surely Father could put forth some new legislation, allowing muggleborns to stay in our society, they just couldn't marry purebloods? Yes, that would solve everything.
Emma's mind was still swirling, torn between her loyalty to mother, to feed her information from Hogwarts, or to practice the open-mindedness she had learned in France. She decided, as her eyelids grew heavy, that her letter could wait. Mother would hear from her first thing in the morning, and she wouldn't mention Lily.