Amalia sniffed at the black goo, swiped a bit off her body, and then put it in her mouth.
"Molasses," she realised with surprise.
"You put that in your mouth?" Severus sneered. "It could have been dangerous!"
"It's a harmless –" she stopped herself, looking at the scared look in Severus' eyes. He was shaking, and his hands were curled beneath him. No, for him, this wasn't a prank. He'd been burnt one too many times. She shook her head.
"Nevermind I said that," she looked around her, eying the students watching. "Will someone help me out?"
Lily walked up to Amalia, pointing her wand at Amalia's robes to clean it up. Remus, who'd been with Lily on duty, had gone pale in the face. His eyes flickered between Severus and Amalia, and she felt guilt. The two people whom Remus had hurt in one way or another and they were affected by a Marauder's prank.
"Let me hel–"
"I don't need your help, you mutt!" Severus yelled as he swapped Remus' hand away.
"He was just trying to help!" Lily glared at him. She cleared up the mess and turned on her heel, looking around to find the culprit. Then, she spotted them.
"Black!" she yelled. "I can't believe I have to deduct points from my own house on the first day!"
"It's just a little fun, Lily," Sirius had a devilish grin on his face. "Besides, it's not as bad as what he said to you."
"Sirius," Remus warned.
Sirius faltered at the tone in Remus' voice. "You would have been in on it," he muttered.
"Yeah Remus, when did you become a buzzkill?" a chubby boy beside him said. He was dressed in Gryffindor robes, and his dishwater blond hair was feathered. He wasn't all too bad looking, Amalia realised. She was used to him being described as aged beyond his years and highly stressed. Peter nudged Sirius in the rib. "He's taking this far too seriously. They've stolen Moony."
"Detention," Remus ignored the quips and stood close to his two friends. "For the endangerment of not one but two Hogwarts students."
"Wha-" Sirius waved his hands around. "You can't be serious?"
"I'm serious,"
Severus left, hiding his face from the crowd as he did. Remus looked apologetically at Amalia.
"I apologise for my friends… and that I've put you in danger. Again."
She held her hand up. It was water under the bridge for her, but what shocked her most was how Remus was acting towards Peter and Sirius. And where was James?
"And who's this?" Sirius moved between the two, coming nose-to-nose with Amalia. "A new face?"
Any wishes of not being perceived, even though she specifically chose the house that would ensure that she didn't cross paths with them on the daily, was gone. It was like she attracted those characters to her, which annoyed the heck out of her. She'd always wondered what it was like to be a normal student at Hogwarts, especially since people went on with their day when the main characters of the story did their hero's quest.
She cleared her throat.
"I am new here. I've been homeschooled."
"Whereabouts?" he asked sceptically.
"London," she squeaked. She remembered Grimmauld was in London, which means most likely, he knew all the Wizarding families in the area. "Mum and I."
"And who's your mum?"
"Gone," she clipped off. Amalia looked away, hoping that it would be enough to deter him.
"Leave her be, Sirius," Remus said. "You've done enough today."
"But I just wanna –"
"She's Dumbledore's niece," Remus hissed. "Don't do this."
"The old man has relatives?"
"Everyone to the Great Hall!" Professor Penderghast announced. "The First Years will be here soon –ah, Ms. Bonham! The Headmaster said I'd be meeting you soon."
Professor Penderghast was the head of Hufflepuff House, and he seemed like he should be retiring any day. He walked with a cane and smelt of the tobacco he'd last smoked. "What are you two lads doing here? Off you go!"
He used his cane to nudge the two Gryffindors away, his eyes sceptically looking on. "They haven't been giving you trouble? You best stay away from them. I'm sure your uncle will have told you a thing or two."
"I've gathered, Sir."
"Well-mannered," he gruffed. "I wonder why he didn't get you here sooner – but education isn't compulsory… your mother was a muggle, he said?"
"Yes."
"Ay, that Abeforth – do you know your dad?"
Oh no, this was what she was not prepared for.
"Uh, no, I don't."
He nodded. "He works down at Hogsmeade, but if he hasn't contacted you, he wouldn't now. I don't need to know about family relations. They're messy. All you need to know is that Hufflepuff will be your home. Now go on, you don't want to miss your first feast!"
The Great Hall was alive with chatter and the sound of footsteps as students poured in for the start-of-term feast. Long tables stretched from end to end, their surfaces gleaming beneath the floating candles that hovered above like soft, glowing stars. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the night sky outside—clear and velvety.
Amalia slipped quietly into her seat at the Hufflepuff table, eyes wide as she took in the grandeur around her. The golden plates and goblets were polished to perfection, reflecting the flickering candlelight in soft, warm glints. Beside her, students chatted excitedly, their voices blending into a lively hum that filled the vast space. None of them paid her any mind.
At the head of the hall, Dumbledore stood, raising his arms for silence. His silver beard shimmered slightly in the candlelight, and his half-moon glasses glinted as he surveyed the students with twinkling eyes.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" His voice carried easily across the room, quieting the murmurs. "Before we dive into the feast, I have but a few words to share with you: Nettle, stringbeans, and lemon curd."
Laughter rippled across the hall, and with a nod from Dumbledore, the tables suddenly groaned under the weight of food that appeared out of nowhere. Platters and bowls of every conceivable dish materialised before the students, the air filling with the mouthwatering aroma of roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and spiced pumpkin pasties.
Amalia's eyes widened as she took in the feast before her. There were golden-brown roast chickens, their skin crispy and glistening with herbs. Platters of sausages and mashed potatoes, steaming bowls of rich beef stew, and tureens of thick, creamy soups sat among baskets of bread—soft rolls and baguettes still warm from the oven.
Closer to her, a vast platter of Yorkshire puddings appeared alongside golden chips sprinkled with just the right amount of salt. Amalia hesitated before reaching for a roast potato, marvelling at the way it crumbled slightly beneath her fork before revealing its fluffy centre.
"I love this," the student next to her, who was biting into a piece of chicken. "I'm Clementine Min. Hufflepuff prefect. I've been informed we have yet another new student."
"Yet another?"
She shrugged. "Many new students nowadays –Hogwarts is a safe place to keep your children with the war going on. Were you worried?"
"Yeah, a little bit," a weight lifted off Amalia's chest. No wonder no one was making a big deal.
"Do you like Quidditch?" she asked.
"I've never played," she said honestly.
"Do you like sports?"
Amalia looked weirdly at Clementine. "I'm just trying to find common ground, that's all."
"Uh… I like watching Speed Skating."
"What's that?"
"Ice skating but people go zoom zoom around the rink."
"You mean the lake?" she asked.
"No, the rink. Muggles can have ice skating all year around, they have technology for that."
"Ohh cool!" Clementine continued eating. "Well, if you need any help, tell me. And I'm your roommate too, after all."
There was a small silence after that, and Amalia landed on another topic. "So… Prefect AND Quidditch?"
Clementine smiled, though there was a flicker of pride in her eyes. "Well, it's a lot of work, but it's worth it. Keeps me busy, and I love the game. Besides," she added with a shrug, "I'm aiming for Head Girl next year, so it doesn't hurt to stay on top of things."
Amalia nodded, admiring the girl's focus and determination. "I'm sure you'll make it."
"Thanks," Clementine said, her smile growing a bit more genuine now. "If you're ever up for a match or just want to watch a practice, let me know."
Amalia hesitated, something tugging at the edge of her thoughts. She glanced from Clementine to Lily, who sat at the Gryffindor table, and then back again. Something was gnawing at her, a memory from earlier in the day. The way Lily had first approached her in the Great Hall, smiling brightly and calling her—
"Hey, did you know that Lily mistook me for you?"
"Huh? We look nothing alike. Same hair colour, that's about it," Clementine laughed. "I'm flattered, but I'd prefer it if it were someone who could fly."
The dormitory was quiet, bathed in soft moonlight that spilled through the tall windows. Now that Clementine was in the room with her, it didn't feel as empty as it did. The other girls were kind as well but kept more to themselves. However, she'd gotten to know them as Fiona, Niamh, and Maisie. She'd been sleeping just fine, but that was because she'd exhausted herself so much that she had to fall asleep. At least now, she didn't feel too alone.
She hadn't known how awful it was.
Now, Amalia lay still, staring up at the canopy of her bed, trying to calm her mind enough to sleep. Her body ached from the weight of the first day's excitement, but her mind buzzed with unease, and no amount of turning over seemed to help.
Eventually, exhaustion won out, and she drifted into a restless sleep.
Amalia found herself standing in an endless, fog-covered field. The air was thick with a strange energy. As she turned in place, the mist began to part, revealing shadowy figures looming in the distance. Slowly, they sharpened into focus, and her breath caught.
Ahead of her stood Severus Snape, his dark silhouette stark against the fog. His face was unreadable; his black eyes narrowed in concentration as he stared into something far beyond her. Around him, two massive serpents coiled and slithered through the mist, their scales gleaming like wet ink in the dim light. One was black, its eyes glowing a sickly green, and the other silver, its gaze cold and distant.
Snape's face twisted into something unreadable—anguish, perhaps, or anger—and the serpents snapped their jaws, each pulling at him from opposite sides. The fog thickened, swallowing him, and Amalia felt her chest tighten.
She tried to move forward, to call out, but her feet wouldn't obey. The fog wrapped itself around her, too, pulling her deeper until the world blurred into nothingness.
Amalia awoke with a sharp gasp, her heart racing in her chest. The dormitory was still dark, the only sound her own rapid breathing. Clementine slept sound asleep. Amalia sat up, her hands trembling as she wiped the cold sweat from her brow. The dream lingered in her mind, vivid and unsettling.
Snape.
She shook her head, trying to shake off the feeling. Why would she see something like that about him, of all people? She barely knew him, at least the Snape now was a stranger to her.
The sun had yet to rise. She steadied her breath, reaching for the water on her bedside. She still felt slightly lightheaded, but it was okay. She could still sleep.
The next morning, Amalia dragged herself to her first class, Herbology.
The air was cool in the greenhouse, but it did nothing to soothe her growing unease. Professor Pendergast was lively, demonstrating how to properly handle Bubotuber plants, but Amalia's hands fumbled as she tried to follow along. Her mind kept drifting back to the dream, the prophecy, Snape's dark expression.
She winced as her gloves slipped for the third time, splattering Bubotuber pus all over her robes.
"Fantastic," she muttered, grabbing a rag to clean herself. Clementine shot her a sympathetic look from across the table, but even her silent support didn't ease Amalia's frustration.
Professor Pendergast raised an eyebrow.
"Bonham," he called out at the end of the session. "I'll have you know, I expect Hufflepuffs to be good at Herbology."
She groaned. She managed to kill a cactus once. How was she supposed to keep a living, breathing plant alive?
When she reached Charms, her head felt as muddled as ever. Flitwick's lesson on Cheering Charms was supposed to be lighthearted, but her attempt to cast it fizzled out into a pathetic puff of smoke. Amalia groaned under her breath as the spell failed yet again, her wand limp in her hand. Even Peter Pettigrew managed to get a decent charm going, much to her dismay. He was the other person who'd struggled with her.
When lunch finally rolled around, Amalia couldn't shake the feeling of dread. She barely touched her food, pushing mashed potatoes around her plate while the laughter of her classmates filled the hall.
Then, it was time for Divination.
She trudged up the spiral staircase leading to the Divination tower, each step feeling heavier than the last. Her head buzzed with the remnants of the dream, the prophecy echoing through her thoughts like an insistent whisper.
She had Divination with the Slytherins, which meant Snape would be there.
Amalia entered the hazy classroom, the smell of incense thickened in the air. She found a seat near the back, her heart thudding. The students around her settled into place, chatting quietly as Professor Onai floated.
Amalia's eyes fell on Severus, who sat near the front, his expression as cool and detached as ever. He hadn't looked at her once, which made sense given what went down yesterday.
"We'll be starting with Prophecies this school year," Professor Onai announced, her voice resonating throughout the dimly lit Divination classroom. The heavy scent of incense hung in the air, mingling with the flutter of anticipation from the students, who were scribbling down notes with eager enthusiasm.
"Now, we won't be able to do a trip to the Ministry—I've tried multiple times, but my request never came through!" she continued, shaking her head slightly, her vibrant headscarf framing her face. "It seems our esteemed Ministry of Magic is a bit reluctant to accommodate the whims of a humble Divination professor!"
A ripple of laughter passed through the class, breaking the tension.
"Now," Professor Onai resumed, her expression shifting to one of seriousness, "a prophecy can be saved in an orb, or it can be found in one. They're then stored in the Ministry." She moved closer to her desk, where a large, ornate crystal orb sat, glimmering under the candlelight. "Not all of them come through, of course. Why is that?"
Several hands shot up around the room. A Slytherin girl in the front, with sharp features and a bored expression, answered first. "Because they're vague or open to interpretation?"
"Very good, Miss Bexley," Professor Onai replied, her eyes sparkling with approval. "Prophecies are often shrouded in riddles, leading to different interpretations. It is part of the nature of fate and choice—many prophecies hinge on the decisions made by those involved. And sometimes, they simply reflect a possibility rather than a certainty."
Amalia's mind drifted as she listened, the details of her dream swirling around her thoughts. The image of Snape surrounded by serpents loomed large in her consciousness. Could it be that she was meant to share this warning? Her heart raced as the implications settled heavily in her chest.
"Now, who can tell me about a famous prophecy?" Professor Onai prompted, scanning the room.
Amalia reluctantly held up her hand. Professor Onai pointed her out.
"Yes?"
"The One from MacBeth?"
"Literary, but exactly!" Professor Onai beamed. " Prophecies can be tricky. They may foretell something, but the outcome can change based on the actions of those involved. Prophecies often come with a heavy burden of responsibility."
As she spoke, Amalia felt a chill run down her spine.
"Now, let's delve deeper into our own experiences ," Professor Onai continued, her tone softening. "I want each of you to pair up and meditate with your crystal orbs. Focus on what you might see, and remember, prophecies can reflect your fears or your hopes. Sometimes they show us truths we're not ready to face."
Amalia leaned in closer to the crystal ball, her eyes narrowing as the swirling mist inside settled. The usual soft hum of the Divination classroom faded into silence, and for a moment, she forgot where she was. Something in the orb was calling to her, pulling her vision deeper.
Severus sat rigid, his expression unreadable. His fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the table, though his attention seemed elsewhere.
But now, as she peered deeper into the orb, a faint shape began to form. It was faint at first—blurry, but unmistakable. A girl. Red hair, glowing like fire against a dark backdrop. Eliza's breath caught.
"Out with it," Snape mumbled. "I'm only here because I need one class to have the bare minimum."
"She's—" Eliza began, her voice trembling. "I see someone. A girl."
Severus' posture changed immediately, stiffening. He was still as stone, but she could feel the shift in the air between them.
"She's important to you," Amalia continued, her voice softer now, almost as if she didn't want to disturb the fragile image. Snape turned toward her fully now, his eyes sharp with both curiosity and wariness. He didn't speak, but the tightening of his jaw said enough.
Amalia's heart raced as the vision sharpened. She saw Snape standing beside Lily, his eyes full of something he never expressed in the present—vulnerability, longing. But just as quickly, the image twisted, like a mirror cracking. Lily was pulling away, her hand slipping out of his grasp, moving toward another—James Potter.
Amalia's breath hitched. "You love her," she whispered. "But she's slipping away from you. The more you try to hold on, the farther she drifts."
Snape said nothing, but his eyes darkened, his hand twitching slightly as if to reclaim the orb from her gaze. Still, Eliza couldn't stop.
The vision wasn't done.
"There's a path... a choice," she said, her voice growing tense. "You're walking toward something dangerous, something that will take you farther from her. The darkness—" She hesitated, seeing flashes of Death Eaters and a dark lord rising in power. "It's pulling you in, Severus. And if you let it... you'll lose her forever."
Eliza looked up at him now, her gaze locking with his. "If you continue down this path, she won't see you anymore. Not as you are now. Not as the boy she once cared about."
For a moment, Severus mask of indifference faltered. His lips parted, as though he might speak, but the words didn't come. His eyes were hard, but there was something deeper, something raw beneath the surface—pain, regret.
But just as quickly as it appeared, the vulnerability vanished from Snape's face, replaced by cold resolve. He reached out and pushed the orb away from Eliza's hands, his voice low and tight. "You don't understand anything."
Eliza flinched at his tone but said nothing more. The vision had ended, but the warning lingered in the air between them.
"You get a crack at it," she cleared her throat.
Severus stared for a long time, but gave up.
"I don't know what you're playing at," he grumbled. "But remember: it's none of you business. And whomever told you what they told you, it's a lie!"
Amalia slumped at her desk in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, her gaze fixed on the blackboard where Professor Carrow had scrawled intricate diagrams of various dark creatures. She just wanted to sleep. The lecture seemed to blend into a haze of confusion. Whenever she tried to focus, her mind drifted to the swirling, nonsensical images of the creatures.
"Right, everyone," Professor Carrow said, his voice booming. "Now, who can tell me the best way to defend against a Boggart?"
The class murmured, and Amalia's heart raced. She raised her hand hesitantly but quickly pulled it back as Lily Evans answered confidently from the front of the room.
"Use the Riddikulus spell!" Lily exclaimed, her green eyes bright with enthusiasm.
"Correct!" Professor Carrow nodded, then turned his piercing gaze toward Amalia. "And how would you apply that spell, Miss Bonham?"
Amalia froze, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. "Uh… You have to visualise your fear as something silly?"
"Correct, but can you elaborate on how to perform it?"
Her throat felt tight. "I… I'm not sure."
Professor Carrow's expression hardened, "It was part of your O.W.L's but I'm sure a lot of people who only study forget it."
After class, she gathered her books and headed toward the common room, her spirits low. This was a lot harder than she thought. Just then, Lily caught up with her, a warm smile lighting her face.
"Tough class?" Lily asked.
"More like classes," Amalia sighed. "Everything is going wrong today and I didn't even take my O.W.L.S! I'm supposed to do that with the fifth years next."
"I think a lot of them forget that it's your first time in a Wizarding School. I don't know how homeschooling works, but I assume you just sign up when you're ready, right?" Lily patted her shoulder.
"Yeah, I guess," Amalia mumbled.
Lily tilted her head, her hair falling slightly over her eyes. "Do you want to study together? I'm not the best at DADA, but I can help with Charms!"
Amalia's heart lifted a little at the offer. "Really? You'd do that for me?"
"Of course!," Lily replied, her smile widening. "How about we meet in the library tomorrow? We can make it a study session!"
Amalia was in a better mood when dinner came; it was time for Astronomy.
Later that evening, as Amalia sat in Astronomy class with Gryffindor, she noticed Remus Lupin fidgeting in his seat. His brow was furrowed, and he kept glancing at his star chart, a worried expression crossing his face.
"Psst, Remus," she whispered, leaning closer as the professor pointed out the constellations in the night sky. "You okay?"
Remus sighed, his voice barely audible over the lecture. "I'm struggling with the charts. They're so… complicated."
Amalia's heart went out to him. "I can help! My dad was an astronomer, you know. I learned all this stuff from him."
His eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"
"I mean… my step-dad. Muggle step-dad," Amalia corrected. Officially, Abeforth Dumbledore was her dad. Hopefully Albus spoke to him about that, or he would be shocked when Professor Penderghast came to his pub.
Amalia quietly leaned over to Remus, pulling out her notes. "Okay, let's start with the basics. This constellation is Orion," she said, pointing to the chart. "His belt is the easiest part to remember—three stars in a line."
They spent the rest of the lesson whispering to each other, Amalia guiding Remus through the various constellations while the professor's voice faded into the background. Remus's tension eased with each star they discussed, and Amalia felt a surge of happiness as she helped him find clarity.
"It shows an unusual conjunction of Mars and Jupiter, which is believed to signify conflict and the potential for great change. An omen, perhaps. I know the centaurs like to use the stars for divination, but I have enough of divination today."
Lupin nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Well, I can say the celestial bodies certainly have an influence."
"Yeah…" she thought of him as a werewolf, how he had no control over himself.
Amalia asked, her brow creasing in concern. "Ever thought if we have any choice in what we do? Or if everything is destined to happen how it is?"
A gentle smile graced Remus' lips. "That's the eternal question, isn't it?"
They finished the chart, and handed it in to their professor. They were done for the night. She looked around: none of the other Marauders were in this class.
"If you're wondering, Sirius thinks nothing of the stars, and Peter never liked astronomy," Remus noted. "They're not here.
"I feel like there is one person missing."
They walked down the stairs together.
"James has been… Well, he's been thinking a lot. So have I. Especially after…"
"Hagrid told me," Amalia said apologetically. Remus grimaced.
"Right, well. You may have noticed it was only Sirius and Peter pranking. I'm sure James will come around, sooner than later, but we're still a bit miffed at each other, that's all. And Sirius' has had a tough summer, so I should go easier on him, but it's a little bit hard."
"Have you told him?" Amalia asked. "How you feel?"
"Uh… no, I have not."
"Then how is he supposed to know what is going on in your head?" she pointed out. "You're just ignoring him at this point. Like you ignored me a bit."
"Point taken," Remus apologised. "Sorry about that, I was…"
"Wallowing?"
"Yeah, maybe."
Remus looked embarrassed. "Let me walk you to your Common Room. I'm on prefect duty tonight, after all."
"Busy, busy days," Amalia pointed out. "You know, when I went to a Muggle school, I was a hot-shot myself. I was in the student association, I did Theatre, I did university politics –"
"University? You're already graduated in the muggle world?"
"Yeah," Amalia felt comfortable sharing that information. The key to lying was keeping as close to the truth as possible. "I graduated Grammar School early, so I studied until Dumbledore decided it wasn't safe for me anymore."
It was quiet in the halls, though students hushed in their groups.
"I won't ask what happened – there are many here that are going through something similar," Remus said kindly. "What's it like? Having to restart in a new place?"
"It's not that bad," she shrugged. "A lot less electronics."
They reached the front of the Common Room.
"That's me," Amalia felt crestfallen that their walk was so short. She wanted to talk with him more.
"Good night, Amalia," Remus said. "And… if you ever need someone…to uh, help with Defense or something, uh, you can always talk to me. Chances are, I am not that far from Lily at times. Or in classes."
She snorted, "I'll take you up on that offer. Good night, Remus."
Preview for next week: Amalia makes friends with Lily's friends establishes a study group, and it starts to feel like Dead Poets Society. Amalia meets Abeforth Dumbledore, and James Potter makes his appearance and the Marauders need couple's counseling.