Very quick AN: I'm not abandoning this story, but please expect updates to be very slow.
Lucy stumbled, throwing out her hands to catch herself. She spent a moment on all fours, feeling terribly disorientated. Huh? she thought to herself.
"Are you alright, dear?" An older lady with a posh, British accent asked her.
Lucy lifted her head to reply to her, then her heart stopped.
Oh my God, can it be?
It was glorious. It was majestic. It was red. It was everything she had ever hoped it would be.
The Hogwarts Express gleamed in the late morning light, steam wafting from the engine. Lucy had to blink to keep the tears from filling her eyes.
"Dear?" the lady asked again.
Nodding dumbly, not trusting herself to speak, Lucy scrambled to her feet and began moving further into platform nine and three-quarters.
"Don't forget your trunk, girl!" the lady called after her.
Lucy looked back in confusion. Indeed, there was an old-fashioned trunk there. It was even in the shade of purple that she liked. Slowly, tentatively, Lucy walked up to the trunk and placed her hand on it. When nobody shouted out 'thief', she began wheeling it behind her.
Her head spun around in all directions as she walked. It really was platform nine and three quarters from Harry Potter.
She rubbed the tears from her eyes. It probably wouldn't even look out of place to see crying children about to leave for school, but I'm a grown woman, damn it! She looked at her hand, then down at the rest of her body. Or at least, I was a grown woman, but I guess if I'm going to be going to Hogwarts, then it makes sense that I'm be eleven years old again. She checked that her hair was still blonde and that she was still tiny compared to everyone else. At least it's actually my eleven-year-old body from when I was growing up and not somebody else's. I'd hate to have stolen someone else's life. I wonder… I was actually eleven in 2004, so is it 2004, 2015 or some point in the Harry Potter story?
Lucy was still staring at everything around her, trying to take it all in. She spotted a bored-looking man selling newspapers.
I may or may not have money in this trunk that apparently belongs to me, but I don't need money to check the date.
She ignored the headline, something about some scandal in the Ministry, and looked at the corner of the page.
September first, 1991.
Oh, wow. I'm not even born yet. 1991 is… Harry's first year, right?
She looked around again, this time focusing on the people. Nobody really stood out as one of the characters that she knew, but then again, they probably didn't look like how they did in the movies.
Redheads, they'll be easy to spot. No… no… were they almost late in the first book?
Lucy looked around for a clock and quickly found one.
Ten fifty-five, I should get on, shouldn't I?
She walked up to the nearest door to the carriages.
Is this really happening? Am I really about to go to Hogwarts? Wait, is this really happening.
She bit her tongue hard, but all she achieved was hurting herself.
Ow, okay, but am I really a witch?
She patted down her pockets. She didn't find a wand, but she did find a…
A ticket.
Her eyes widened as she read it.
September first, eleven o'clock, Platform nine and three quarters… Well, that's as good a sign that I should get on the train as any, I guess.
She placed a foot on the step and when nobody jumped up and accused her of being an imposter, she climbed in, dragging her trunk behind her. I'm taking this very well, aren't I? But, well, it's the Hogwarts Express! Of course I'm going to get on!
Lucy continued to gawk at everything and everyone as she walked down the corridor.
There sure are not very many students, Lucy thought to herself as she travelled down the train. I wonder if that fan theory is right about this year group being the smallest one because of the war.
Most of the compartments had at least one or two people in them, but Lucy eventually found one that was empty. She closed the door behind her after she entered and pulled her trunk on to the seat next to her. She was certain that she wouldn't be able to lift it up to the luggage racks above her in her currently tiny body and besides, she wanted to see what was inside.
There was a combination lock on the top of the trunk, but after a moment's thought, the first three numbers of her phone password opened it easily enough. Lucy's breathing sped up when she saw the long, thin box at the top of the contents of the trunk. Hands trembling, she opened it. Inside was a… Well, it had to be a wand.
I guess I never really thought about what Harry Potter wands looked like. Shorter than I imagined.
Glancing into her trunk, she spotted what was probably a pencil case, taking it out, she found a ruler and measured her new wand.
Eight inches. Is that a comment on my height? I get taller, damn it!
Gingerly, nervously, she wrapped her fingers around the handle and lifted it up.
What are you afraid of? She chided herself. Give it a wave!
She slowly lifted her arm, holding the wand aloft like a conductor's baton. She held the pose for a long moment, before screwing her eyes shut and swinging her arm down.
She stopped, eyes still closed and ears straining.
Nothing exploded, but I didn't feel anything either.
Cautiously opening her eyes, she only just saw the last remnants of small sparks, just before they faded away.
Of course you won't see the sparks if you don't have your eyes open, Lucy!
She lifted her arm again and repeated her motion through the air.
That… might just be the most beautiful thing that I've ever seen.
She repeated it several times before reluctantly stopping.
There's plenty of time for that later, I should check the rest of the— of my trunk.
There were textbooks with titles that Lucy thought she recognised; a collection of eleven-year-old clothes and toiletries, Lucy was not looking forward to going through puberty again; a potions set, apparently Harry Potter cauldrons were really small; and, right at the bottom, a plastic case.
Oh, a flute, Lucy thought, opening the case. This might actually be the same first flute I ever had. That means that it'll sound terrible, but at least I won't get out of practice. For now though, I think I'll just…
Lucy took the charms textbook out of her trunk and opened it to a random page breathing in the new book smell.
She had just settled down when, with a jolt, the train started moving. Students cheered up and down the train and parents shouted out farewells. Lucy glanced out of the window as the platform slowly disappeared behind them, but didn't wave. She didn't have any family here, after all.
I don't suppose I died. I don't remember jaywalking or going across any crosswalks. I don't remember much actually. Did I die in my sleep? The last thing I remember is… I went to work, went home, I had… spaghetti for dinner and then… I'm not sure. It'd be a shame if I did die. I mean, actually going to Hogwarts is amazing, but it'd really upset my mom and dad.
Shrugging, Lucy returned to her textbook.
Chapter seven: the Levitation Charm.
"Excuse me, do you mind?"
An older girl was standing by the door, holding all her things. Lucy looked at her in bewilderment.
"Can I sit here?" The girl said impatiently.
"Oh, yeah, no—" Lucy stopped, her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.
"Yeah, no, which one is it?" the girl said, now her eyes were full of bemusement.
"No problem," Lucy said weakly.
That's MY voice? I'm… I'm… I'm BRITISH?! I can't be British, I'm an American! I had a passport and everything! I don't drink tea. I never met the queen. How can I be British!?
The other girl used her wand to levitate her trunk onto the luggage racks.
"What's that you're saying?" she asked. Lucy stopped furiously repeating 'the rains of Spain fall mainly on the plain' under her breath and looked up.
"No— nothing."
"Right, do you want me to…?" she gestured with her wand.
"What, sorry?"
"Your trunk. You're a first-year, right? Don't know how to levitate things yet, do you?"
Oh, she's offering to levitate my trunk. That's nice of her. Must be Hufflepuff.
"Uh, it's wingardium leviosa, right?" Lucy said.
The girl gave her a look. "You need to work on your pronunciation," she said.
You're telling me!
"Do you want my help or not?"
"Oh, right. Please."
This time Lucy watched closely, this was the first proper piece of magic she had ever seen, at least, discounting that David Blaine show she went to once.
The girl flicked her wand and Lucy's trunk floated upwards.
Silent casting. She must be an upperclassman. Upperclasswitch? Oh, I'm a witch, now, cool. I guess Bailey in fourth grade was right about me.
"I'm Lucy, by the way."
"Lynette," the girl said distractedly, going through her belongings.
I don't recognise the name Lynette. I'd ask her what her last name is, but I don't want to seem like a blood supremacist!
"You're not allergic to cats are you?" Lynette asked.
"Cats? Uh, no."
The girl then opened what Lucy just then realised was a pet carrier. A beautiful black cat exited it and stretched in a way that made Lucy jealous.
"So gorgeous!" Lucy squealed.
Okay, one advantage of being eleven again is that people don't give you strange looks for acting like, well, a girl.
"She won't let you pet her," Lynette said, opening a book to read.
Damnit!
A few minutes later, Lynette had become engrossed in her book and the cat was lying down among the trunks in the luggage rack. Lucy tried to read her Charms textbook, but couldn't quite pay attention to it in the way she thought she should have paid attention to an actual book on how to do actual magic.
It's not as if I'm ignoring the whole Voldemort issue, but I don't exactly know what I could do about it. Honestly, just writing an anonymous letter to Dumbledore seems like the best idea. I probably remember enough about… okay, I definitely remember everything important about the whole series for Dumbledore to solve the whole thing in a week, minus, perhaps, the Harry is a Horcrux situation.
Lucy watched the, admittedly quite lovely, British countryside pass by through the window.
That way he can deal with Sirius… and Quirrell. Oh my God, Voldemort is in the castle right now! I definitely don't feel up to dealing with this by myself.
So Lucy began composing potential letters to Dumbledore in her head. She didn't dare write anything potentially revealing in front of Lynette and her stationary was in her trunk anyway, beyond the reach of her eleven-year-old arms.
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
I know that it's probably within your abilities to discover my identity, but I'd prefer it if you didn't, for reasons that may become clear. You see, Voldemort is in the castle right now!
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
I'm a new first-year student. There were always rumors in my family that my great-aunt Beatrice could see the future. I always dismissed it as nonsense, but now I'm not so sure. You see, I've had a vision…
Dear Albus,
I'm writing this letter to you from the future…
Hey Alby,
Voldemort's in Quirrell, Sirius is innocent and Harry's a Horcrux. Good luck with that, bye!
Dear Dumbledore,
I know that I've addressed this letter to you, but I'm actually wanting to talk with J.K. Rowling. That's right, you! I've somehow gotten trapped in your fantasy world. Don't worry, I'm a big fan! But, if you could make sure that I don't get killed or tortured or enslaved with love potions, that'd be great.
Lucy sighed.
I suppose there's nothing wrong with waiting a week or two until I've found my feet. It's not as if Quirrell started butchering students in the first class.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?"
Lucy looked at the old lady standing at the doorway.
"Oh, uhh, no, thank you," she said.
Isn't she, like, some kind of monster or automaton? Oh God, is A Cursed Child canon? Am I even in canon?
Lynette bought a couple of things and the trolley lady left. Lynette peered at Lucy.
"You're muggleborn, right?"
"Huh?"
"Your parents aren't magical, right?"
Uh, I guess I am Muggleborn, aren't I?
"Oh, yeah."
Lynette sighed. "And they didn't realise that the train journey was so long and didn't give you lunch or any pocket money."
"Uhh, that's right."
Lynette sighed again, much more dramatically this time. "Fine, fine. Here."
And she picked one of the snacks she had bought and offered it to Lucy.
"Oh, no. You don't have to… I'll be fine, really."
"Don't be silly. It's hours till the Opening Feast." She jabbed the food towards Lucy again. "Take it."
Lucy took it.
"Thank you, that's… really nice." Lucy looked at what she had been given. It was a pastry… something. She took a tentative nibble.
Ah, so this is what a pumpkin pasty is. It's surprisingly nice. September is a strange time of year for pumpkins though, it's just one more month! Oh, I guess it'll be a long time until I can get a pumpkin spiced latte. Lucy silently mourned.
The train sped onwards. Lynette read through her books studiously. Lucy tried to read her Charms textbook some more, but her heart wasn't really in it. Instead she made a mental list of all the important information that she'd want to give to Dumbledore. The cat slumbered above them.
Lucy almost choked when who could have only been Hermione Granger poked her bushy head into their compartment and asked if they had seen a toad. Lucy could only shake her head dumbly.
Well, she's certainly no Emma Watson, Lucy thought to herself, but she does experience a glow-up later on, I guess. She also had a sudden mad urge to ask Hermione what her parents' names were, but squashed it.
There's plenty of time to satisfy your curiosity later, Lucy, she told herself.
It was a long train ride, but eventually the sky grew darker and Lynette stood up.
"We should get changed," she said, levitating both of their trunks down.
"Oh, right… Do you want me to step outside?" Lucy asked.
Lynette quirked an eyebrow. "It's dorm room life for the next seven years for you," she said. "You'd better get used to changing in front of others or you'll never get ready for lessons on time. Don't be shy, we're all girls here." Lynette gave her what was quite a patronising look.
Bitch, please! I'm at least five years older than you and I grew up with internet access. I've seen things that would blow your mind.
Staring at the older (in a manner of speaking) girl in a defiant manner, Lucy began changing. She actually needed Lynette's help to work out how to wear robes, which made her feel all of five-years-old, not eleven and certainly not twenty-two.
I still think I prefer pants, Lucy thought to herself. But these are kind of cool. She spun a little back and forth, letting the robes twirl a little.
Lynette coaxed her cat down and back into her carrier, but Lucy choked in surprise when she saw the other girl's green-trimmed robes.
"You're in Slytherin?" she asked in surprise.
"Yes? Oh, let me guess," Lynette's expression turned sour. "Somebody told you that Slytherin was an evil house full of evil people."
"Something like that," Lucy said in a small voice. "Sorry, you've been so nice to me, but it does have a… reputation."
"There's bullying in every house," Lynette said dismissively.
"What about the war?"
"What about it? It ended years ago, before you were born."
"Actually, I was born in—" I'll be 'twelve' in October. 1991 minus twelve is "—1979."
"Whatever," Lynette said. "You Know Who is dead and his supporters are in prison. You won't get cursed in the back just because you're Muggleborn."
"I heard rumours though… that he's still alive," Lucy said, glancing back and forth as if Voldemort might pop out suddenly if she talked about him.
"There are rumours like that about all dark wizards. Let me tell you, if it were possible to become an immortal dark lord, there'd be an awful lot of them running around."
Lynette looked confident and Lucy instinctively nodded along and tried to look relieved.
Poor girl. She's in for a rude awakening in a few years time. That is, if I can't stop him. Or if Dumbledore can't stop him, that is.
The train finally pulled to a stop. Lucy's heart started hammering in her chest.
"You can leave your stuff here. It'll get taken up to the castle separately," Lynette said. "Good luck with the Sorting, I hope I'll see you in Slytherin."
"Yeah, thanks for everything," Lucy said, deep in thought.
Maybe Slytherin wouldn't be so bad, but I always considered myself a little more Hufflepuffy than anything. But if I want to be close to the action, shouldn't I be in Gryffindor?
She followed the sound of Hagrid's voice, and wasn't that accent hard to understand, and arrived in the gaggle of first-years. She looked around, trying to recognise who she could. Malfoy was obvious, which made the two bigger boys next to him Crabbe and Goyle. Ron and Hermione stood out easily enough. That probably made the short boy next to Ron Harry and again, they weren't Daniel Radcliffe or Rupert Grint.
Neville, Dean… is that Lavender Brown? She's so cute! I guess I'll hear names later.
"This way, Firs'-years," Hagrid's booming voice called out.
Jesus Christ, that man's tall! How does he even walk through the castle?
Soon enough, they were all in the little boats. Lucy with a couple of girls whose identity she couldn't work out. But all her contemplation was forced out of her head when she saw Hogwarts Castle come into view ahead of her.
For the second time in one day, she had to rub the tears of joy out of her eyes.
It's even more incredible than I imagined. I promise that I'm never going to regret that I've been ejected from my old life, this is amazing!
The other two girls watched her warily as Lucy sniffed and wiped at her face with her sleeve, a stupid grin plastered on her face, but Lucy ignored them. They didn't know how magical this really was.
Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Slytherin. Lucy repeated the words in her head like a mantra, as if that if she repeated it enough, she would be inspired as to what was the best house to go to.
I'd hate to dismiss Slytherin out of hand, especially after that girl was so nice, but knowing what I know about the future, it's even less appealing than its terrible reputation suggests.
Gryffindor would be the obvious choice if I want to get stuck in the action, but I really kinda… don't. Let Harry or Dumbledore be the hero, all I want to do is learn magic. Oh, and fly on a hippogriff, that sounds awesome.
No, Hufflepuff is the best for me. Calm and friendly, that's me through and through. All my friends know me as the hugger of our little group. Or knew me at least. Well, if they knew where I was now, they'd be happy for me.
The children screamed as ghosts floated through the wall. Lucy may have screamed, too, a little, but she was a child as well, now, wasn't she? She looked at the ghosts as they chatted with and introduced themselves to the students. They had always seemed so jovial and friendly in the books, with some exceptions, but here they just seemed… depressing. They were much more insubstantial than she had imagined and they all showed signs of whatever horrible injury killed them. She knew that the Bloody Baron was somewhere in the castle and he ended up killing his lover and then himself! And then came to haunt the same castle as her! How horrible being a ghost seemed. Lucy decided then and there to find out how ghosts came into being, just so that she could make sure that it never happened to her.
Professor McGonagall came back to lead them into the Sorting Ceremony. She wasn't as old as Lucy had thought. Lucy racked her brain for several minutes trying to work out how old she was based on what she remembered.
It all comes down to what's canon and isn't. Or rather, what's real and what isn't. I think she's supposed to be younger than Voldemort, so about sixty?
McGonagall asked them to stand in alphabetical order.
Lucy Williamson is kind of close to the end of the alphabet, isn't it? I know there's a Zabini in this year. I guess I'll be standing up for a while.
The first view of the Great Hall was incredible, but, honestly, Lucy was kind of tired out from seeing amazing things all day. Instead, she just felt uncomfortable and hungry as she waited for the dozens of students ahead of her to be Sorted. One pastry at lunch is hardly a full meal and she had… appeared? outside the train after breakfast time.
She looked at the Slytherin table and saw Lynette, but the older girl wasn't looking at her.
Sorry, Lynette! You made it look more inviting, but it's Hufflepuff for me, not Slytherin.
She also made sure to pay attention to where everyone was Sorted. She hoped that her arrival hadn't set off a butterfly effect that changed history by getting Malfoy sorted into Gryffindor, or something.
Hermione and Harry went to Gryffindor and I think everyone else has gone where they are supposed to by now, oh, here goes Ron.
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat yelled, leading to a round of applause.
"Williamson, Lucy!" called McGonagall.
I guess that answers the question of whether my name would be on her list, Lucy thought, while walking towards the stool.
Gingerly, she placed the hat on her head.
Now, Mister—
"RAVENCLAW!"
Huh?
The Ravenclaw table was cheering, but Lucy paused for a moment after taking off the hat.
I'm a dimension-hopping, time-travelling twenty-two-year-old first-year. That doesn't warrant me getting a 'hello'? I don't even like riddles!
McGonagall was looking at her sternly, so Lucy put down the hat and went to sit with her new house.
"Rude," she muttered under her breath.
Her new housemates greeted her enthusiastically, so Lucy tried her best to look happy and to remember people's names.
Luna is a Ravenclaw next year and Cho is a Ravenclaw in the year above. This year it's… Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot, the Patil twin… there are quite a few Ravenclaws, aren't there.
Blaise Zabini was sorted into Slytherin, just as Lucy expected, and then dinner was served.
Oh, great… British food…
But, much to her surprise, the food was actually pretty great. She had a big slice of beef wellington and a mountain of the creamiest mashed potatoes she'd ever tasted. The pumpkin juice… wasn't actually pumpkin juice. How would you juice a pumpkin? In fact, I was thinking of pumpkin spiced lattes earlier, but this isn't too different, except that it's cold… and uncaffeinated.
Lucy mostly listened to the conversations around her. Pretending to be an overwhelmed eleven-year-old had people treating her very kindly and they didn't press her to join in. The older students were talking about their summers and the new first-years were talking about what subjects they were looking forward to the most. To Lucy, even the oldest students seemed so young.
And to think, I'm closer in age to the seventh-years than they are to the first-years.
Dinner was replaced by dessert and Lucy looked at what was available.
"Lucy, right? Can you pass the treacle tart?"
Lucy looked up. A youngish Asian-looking girl was talking to her. Cho?
"Treacle tart, right." Lucy looked at the dishes near her. "Uhh…" What does treacle tart even look like?
"That one, by your elbow."
"Oh, right. Here you are."
Lucy made sure to snag a slice of her own. She may as well pretend to be British, now that she was here. At least she didn't need to worry about the accent, even if having hers magically changed was unnerving.
The treacle tart was nice, but very sweet. In fact, everything on offer looked full of sugar. The British don't pull their punches when it comes to desserts, do they?
Before too long, the other students, and Lucy herself, were starting to tire and Dumbledore sent them all to bed. Lucy tried her best to remember the route they took up to the Ravenclaw Common Room, but she didn't trust her sense of direction one bit.
Oh, great. Here it comes.
"To enter the Common Room," the prefect was saying, "like Lady Ravenclaw who founded our house, you must prove your ability to reason and your attitude towards learning. Before you enter, you must answer a riddle." Then he reached out and tapped the knocker twice.
I can already see this getting very old.
"Where do vanished objects go?"
Oh!
"Into nonbeing, which is to say, everything," Lucy said before she could stop herself.
"Nicely phrased," the door knocker replied.
The other first-years applauded and Lucy cringed in embarrassment.
Don't get used to it, Lucy thought.
The Common Room was comfortable and impressive, but Lucy was suddenly too tired to take it in at all. I'll explore tomorrow… or the next day. I am here for the next seven years, after all. There's no need to rush.
When she collapsed into bed a few minutes later, her last thought before drifting off was that she'd never been happier to be going back to school.
When she woke up the next morning, Lucy felt more energised than she ever had in her entire life.
Being eleven again is great! How do children cope with all this energy? Screw coffee, youth is the only stimulant I need.
It was only just past six, but she vaguely remembered the prefect last night saying that breakfast was available from six-thirty, so Lucy got dressed (Lynette had been right, there really wasn't much space for privacy in the dorms) and left the Common Room.
Finding her way back to the Great Hall wasn't too difficult, just go down the corridor until you hit the main staircase and go down, so by the time she got to the Great Hall, the doors were still closed.
"Hey. Lucy, right?"
Lucy turned towards the speaker. There were two boys there, a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin, they weren't Sorted last night, so they weren't first-years, but they weren't that much older than her, though they still towered over her. The Hufflepuff boy had messy, brown hair and the Slytherin had much calmer, black hair.
"Yes, I'm Lucy."
"Great," said the Hufflepuff. "I'm Henry and this is John, we were wondering if you'd ever heard of our friend J.K. Rowling."
What?!
"Uhh… what?" Lucy said, her voice shaking.
"I told you so," the Slytherin, John, said.
"Yes, yes. You're very clever," Henry replied. "Do you want to join us for a little gossip about our mutual friend?" He was smiling warmly and Lucy found herself nodding.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"There's an empty classroom this way," John said.
When the door closed behind them, Henry held up a hand. "Silencio," he said, enunciating carefully and waving his wand at the door. "It's probably not necessary, but there's no need to not be careful."
"What the hell is going on!?" Lucy half-shouted, now feeling actually quite scared. "Who are you?"
Henry pocketed his wand and held up his hands placatingly. "It's alright, dear. We're friends."
Lucy took a deep breath. "How do you know who Rowling is?" she asked.
"The same way you do," John said. "We read her books."
"You mean that you're… I don't know the word… you're real people, too."
"A strange way to phrase it," Henry said thoughtfully. "Everyone here is real, but yes, we were both in the quote-unquote real world before we found ourselves here."
Lucy's mind was spinning. And I thought yesterday was strange!
"I assume that you suddenly found yourself next to the train?" John asked. "And you don't remember exactly what you were doing before that?"
Lucy nodded, eyes wide.
John nodded back in understanding. "The same thing happened to us, a year ago for Henry and two years ago for me. But no, before you ask, we don't have any idea why or how."
"Can I just… have a moment?" Lucy asked, sitting down at one of the desks. "How did you know that I was in the same situation as you?"
"Henry couldn't remember," said John. "But I was pretty sure that there was no Lucy in Harry's year."
"Oh, right."
"On top of that, you managed to get up at the crack of dawn, which most children your age couldn't," he continued. "How old are you, by the way? Or were you, as the case may be."
Henry shook his head, his messy hair swinging to and fro. "Such an impertinent question, so early in the conversation."
"Alright, grandad."
"I was twenty-two," Lucy said.
"And it was 2015, right?"
"Yeah. Oh, so you two were… plucked? From 2013 and 2014?"
"That's right," John confirmed. "I think we can be safe in assuming that someone new will arrive next year, too," he said to Henry.
"So, wait, how old are you two?" asked Lucy.
"Forty-two," said John.
"Twelve," said Henry. John tried to kick him, but Henry jumped aside. "Of course, by some reckoning, I'm seventy-five."
Seventy-five! That's old.
"She's thinking that you're old," John said to Henry.
"No! I mean, yes, actually, but… sorry," Lucy finished in a small voice.
"Not to worry!" Henry said cheerfully. "I don't feel a day over fifty."
This time, John's kick connected.
"Well, I must admit that I'm relieved," Lucy said, as Henry rubbed his ankle. "I was pretty worried about the whole situation with Voldemort…" Lucy's head was spinning. She could hear a roaring noise overwhelming everything else. Her consciousness was slipping away.
Am I dying?
"Easy… easy…" Henry was saying. "You walked right into that one."
Lucy opened her eyes slowly. Her head was killing her. At some point she'd fallen to the floor. Henry had caught her, it seemed, and stopped her from cracking her head open on the ground.
"What…"
"You Know Who's name is cursed," John explained. "Don't try to say it. Especially not without practising and building yourself up to it."
"How was I supposed to know? That wasn't in the books," Lucy complained.
"We think it's because Harry is a… you know," John said. "Don't say that word either. Again, it probably doesn't matter, but it might lead to some unpleasant questions."
Lucy nodded again. The last twenty-four hours had left her speechless more than she liked.
"Otherwise all the Muggleborns would be fine with saying his name, wouldn't they?" Henry said.
"Oh, right."
"Anyway, what were you saying?" Henry said, pulling her to her feet.
"Right, I was worried about the whole…You Know Who situation. His…" she mouthed the word 'horcruxes', "how he comes back… but I assume you've got that all under control."
John and Henry shared a look.
"It's not under control at all, really," John said.
"You mean you haven't just told Dumbledore? That's what I was going to do," Lucy said.
"By all means try," said Henry. "And you should try, because it'd be stupid to not try, but we can't share any knowledge we have from reading the books."
"What?"
"We can say the words, or even right it down, but it just goes in one ear and out the other."
"Like a Fidelius Charm?"
"Yeah, pretty much," John said, impressed. "That was pretty quick. Do you know the books well?"
"Do I know the books well?" Lucy gave him a look. "Please, I'm in, like, the top percentile when it comes to Harry Potter knowledge. That's not even an exaggeration. I used to take Harry Potter quizzes online and the results page would say 'top one percent'."
"Good, because this one," John jabbed his thumb at Henry, "can hardly remember the book titles, let alone the contents."
"I'm not that bad!"
"He got the Hungarian Horntail and Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback confused," John stage-whispered.
"That was one time!"
Lucy chuckled weakly. "So, you've been here for a couple of years. You must have done something productive, right? Like freeing Sirius."
John grimaced. "It's not easy, you know, being unable to share certain bits of information. Without Wormtail being at Hogwarts-"
"Scabbers was Percy's rat before Ron's," Lucy said immediately.
"He was?" John said, shocked.
"It's not so nice when you're not the one who's ignorant about something, is it?" said Henry.
"Oh, shush. This doesn't actually change any of our plans."
"Yes, but it would have been nice to get more done sooner."
"Hold on," Lucy said. "You guys do have a plan?"
"Spreading rumours," John said.
Lucy gave him a look.
"No, I'm serious," he said. "I've been spreading rumours for years that McGonagall spies on students in her animagus form and that Filch's cat is actually his human wife."
"And what? You expect that the whole school is just going to go around shooting anti-animagus charms at animals all the time?"
"Mrs. Norris got hit three times last year, though nobody's got McGonagall yet," said Henry.
Lucy snorted, but quickly schooled her expression. "And you're sure that it's a better plan than, say… tackling Ron to the ground and casting the charm on the rat directly?"
John grimaced. "I'd rather not bring so much attention to us, nor would we be able to explain how we knew he was an Animagus."
"But every day that goes by is another day that an innocent man is suffering in prison," Lucy said emphatically.
I always had a soft spot for Sirius.
"There are other reasons that I'd rather not come under scrutiny," John said evasively.
"But surely if you're happy to help get Sirius out of Azkaban, the sooner the better!" Lucy implored.
Henry held up his hands. "You're right, Lucy, Sirius does need to be exonerated, but he's been in prison for ten years, a few more months won't make much difference, but!" he saw Lucy about to interrupt. "We've agreed to switch to more direct forms of intervention if Wormtail isn't revealed soon."
"How soon is soon?"
"Christmas at the latest."
Hmm… It's not ideal… but these two have been here longer than I have… I can always change my mind later, I guess.
"Okay," she said slowly. "Any other ongoing plots I should be aware of?"
"Not really," John said. "Our plan for this year was mostly just to stop Harry and his friends getting into trouble."
"I understand that their adventures built up the friendships and their capabilities," Henry said. "But I can't condone letting children fight a troll, for example."
"Except for Quirrell killing the unicorns, the broomstick incident and the events at the end of the year," said John, "not much terrible happens this year."
That's not wrong, exactly, Lucy though, brow creased in concentration. But I feel like we should be doing something more proactive than spreading rumours. There are still all the Horcruxes, including the one in Harry, all the escaped Death Eaters, and that includes Crouch Junior, now that I think about it. We should probably do something about Voldemort's father's bones at some point… argh!
Lucy let her head drop to the table in front of her with a thunk.
"Urgh…"
"What?"
"You know," she said, speaking directly into the wooden surface in front of her. "I was actually looking forward to offloading all these problems on Dumbledore and then just enjoying my time at Hogwarts, making friends, studying magic. But, no, now I have to fight Vo— You Know Who."
Henry and John gave her sympathetic looks.
"Well, at least you have us here to help," Henry said.
"In my first year, I thought I was all alone," said John.
"At least tell me that magic is as amazing as I hope it is?" Lucy asked, tilting her head and opening one eye to peer at them blearily.
"Oh, my dear," Henry said, a genuine smile on his face. "As amazing as you hope and more."
Lucy couldn't help herself from finding his smile to be very contagious.
"Do you have an idea what kind of magic you want to focus on?" Henry continued.
Lucy sat up, the same flicker of true excitement that was lit inside her yesterday, burning brightly again.
"Well, Defence Against The Dark Arts, naturally and Charms always seemed useful, too. Oh and I definitely want to get good at Transfiguration, because there's no way I'm not becoming an animagus… if we're going to be doing, what do you call them, covert operations? Then I'll definitely want to learn Occlumency, but it'd be a good idea to get good at soul magic, too, considering the Harry situation… oh, and—"
"Woah, woah," John was holding up his hands. "Slow down there. You've just mentioned half a dozen difficult and esoteric things."
Lucy glared at him.
"I'm smart… And I'm going to put the work in. It's magic for crying out loud."
"If that was all it needed—" John began to say.
"And I have an eleven year age advantage on my peers, so-"
"And I had a thirty year gap," John interrupted her back. "And Henry had a million year gap." Henry rolled his eyes dramatically. "If it were easy, I'd do it myself, but magic is hard. It's great, to be sure, but it's not easy. My advice? Pick two things from your list and focus on those, probably just one."
Jeez, what a party pooper.
"Alright then, what do you two focus on?"
"Well," John dragged out the word. "I think you were right about the need for Occlumency, or just mind magic generally."
"You're a Legilimens?" Lucy said sceptically. "I mean, it's cool, but it's also kind of creepy, tee-bee-aitch."
"Tee-bee-aitch?" Henry asked, eyebrows raised.
"To be honest."
"Was that so hard to say?"
Lucy looked at him in a new light. "Wow, you are old."
John let out a laugh, while Henry grumbled something about disrespectful children.
"To answer your question," John said. "I am kind-of a Legilimens. I can read people's minds somewhat, but only if I'm using my wand and the incantation and I have eye contact… and I've only practised against Henry here… like I said, magic is hard."
Well, there go my dreams of total magical mastery… oh well.
"And how about you, Henry? What's your area of focus?"
"Charms."
"Charms?" Lucy said, a little sceptical. "Isn't that a little, you know, basic?"
Henry made a face. "I've never understood that attitude. Magic is probably around ninety percent charms. Sure, potions and herbology and—" he nodded at John. "—mind-reading are useful, but you're still going to be casting dozens more charms on any typical day."
"I guess you know more about it than I do," Lucy said.
What do I want to focus on? Lucy frowned, looking down at the table in front of her in concentration.
"Do you want my advice?" John asked. Lucy nodded, looking at him expectantly. "Don't decide anything. Go to your first week of lessons. Read your textbooks. When you have an idea of what you like and what you're good at, decide what you want to specialise in then."
"That's good advice, actually, thanks. Any other valuable pieces of advice."
"Oh, yeah," Jon's eyes lit up as he remembered something. "Don't go into the Room of Requirement."
The Room?
"Why not?"
I'd had a vague idea of searching for useful things in the Room of Missing Things.
"Because… it's a little complex," John ran his hand through his hair. "The magic which prevents us from sharing knowledge we have from reading the books, only applies to things that we only know from reading the books." He saw the blank look on Lucy's face. "Say, for example, you wanted to talk about… the Fidelius Charm with Flitwick, you wouldn't be able to because it's a secret from the books, but if you found a description of the charm in a textbook, then you could discuss it with him, but you couldn't tell him that Pettigrew was the Potters' secret keeper."
This is going to hurt my head, I just know it.
"Okay, so how does that relate to the Room?"
"Because, if Quirrell reads your mind after you've been inside, then he'll find out that you know how to access it, You Know Who may have him move the Diadem just in case. Plus, the Diadem is in the room. I don't want to go anywhere near any of them until I'm much more prepared."
Lucy frowned. "It seems a little… overcautious to me, no offence."
"If you're not being over cautious, you're not being cautious enough," John said forcefully. Henry sat down, watching him speak, but John remained standing, his expression perfectly serious. "We know far too much. We know the location of all of You Know Who's you know whats and all of the Deathly Hallows and the full text of the Prophecy. We know every important secret and every future event for the next seven years. If You Know Who works out that we know something important, he could stick anyone of us under the Imperius Curse. Even if he couldn't extract information from us directly, he could just command us to serve him faithfully and to help him as best we can. Do you want to rob Harry of his cloak and deliver it to the dark lord? If you were Imperiused, you wouldn't be able to help yourself. And that's just one possibility. If someone with bad intentions finds out a way to bypass the magic that protects our knowledge of the books, it could be an instant loss for the good guys. Our being here has already changed things. We don't know if the prophecy is still in effect. We don't know if the razor thin path that Harry took to achieve his victory in the books is still possible. Do you realise how tenuous the method that Harry took to get ownership of the Wand was? If even one part of that doesn't happen, You Know Who could win. That's why we've got to operate with an overabundance of caution."
Woah.
"But," Henry said softly, calmly, leaning forward. "Also have fun and enjoy learning magic."
John sat down, rubbing his face.
"What we know does give us a huge advantage over the forces of evil," Henry continued. "There's no reason to suspect that the situation is hopeless. Quite the opposite, in fact. Just… be careful."
"Sorry, Henry's right," John said, his head still in his hands. "There's no need to get stressed. Me and Henry can probably do it all by ourselves if you just want to go and play Quidditch, or whatever. You're certainly not required to join our crusade."
"No, no. I want to help," Lucy said earnestly.
John stood up. "Well, you can work out what you want to do later. For now, enjoy your first day, make some friends, learn some magic. Shall we meet up this evening? The grounds are lovely this time of year. For now, I'm going to go get a cup of tea."
And without waiting for a reply, he strode out of the door and left it hanging open behind him.
Henry stood up and pulled the door to, smiling at Lucy afterwards. "He can get a little worked up, can't he?" Lucy nodded, still a little taken aback. "John's a good bloke, but he's not had an easy time of it. He was essentially alone for a whole year, with, almost quite literally, the fate of the whole world on his shoulders. He can't relate to any of the students because they're too young and none of the teachers because he's too young, so he was pretty lonely before I got here. I've tried to take on some of that burden since I got here, but, to be honest, he's just better at the planning and plotting stuff than I am."
"I do want to help," Lucy said again and she meant it, even if it was looking more daunting than she first imagined.
Henry held out his hand, smiling in a way that seemed strange on his twelve-year-old face, but he managed to make it work, somehow. "Welcome to the team, Lucy."
Lucy stood and ignoring his outstretched hand, stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.
"Thanks, Henry."
"Call me Harry," he said. Lucy leant back, looking him in the eyes in confusion. "Harry is short for Henry," he clarified.
Lucy scoffed. "As if that wouldn't get real confusing, real fast."
Henry laughed. "Breakfast?"
"Yes," Lucy groaned in hunger. "You don't know if they serve biscuits and gravy here, do you?"
Henry pulled back from her, the most profound look of confusion on his face.
"What?!"