Leaving her siblings is the hardest thing Dahlia has ever had to do. Sitting in a train compartment alone, she feels as if she's abandoning them. Almost four whole months they will be apart. Dahlia will be off learning magic while Harry and Lettie are at the mercy of the Dursleys. Leaving the safety of the upstairs bedroom, which Dumbledore had convinced the Dursley's was a better living quarters for the three as her siblings moving out of the cupboard was one of Dahlia's stipulations for attending Hogwarts, had felt as if she was walking through molasses. Knowing that she wouldn't know for absolute certain that her brother and sister were okay almost made her change her mind and decline the school invitation. It was only the fact that Lettie would start crying if Dahlia didn't take this chance to leave that managed to get her out of the house and into the Dursley's powder blue car.
She looks away from the window with a sigh, turning back to the book in her lap. She has spent the last month delving into all knowledge she can find of the Wizarding World. She has found that she is, in fact, Heiress Potter of the Honorable and Most Ancient House of Potter, Countess of the Blood Moors. It's a long title that she truly doesn't have any interest in. Despite this, she has committed herself to learning the culture of this new world and teaching it to her siblings in turn. Something that should be recognized as their birthright.
This started with what exactly they were supposed to do with the items found in their vaults. A woman's hair is treated very differently in the Magical World of Avalon than it is in the Muggle World. Dahlia has spent the past days learning and teaching Harry and Lettie how to care for Lettie's hair and build her reservoir of magic in her absence. Harry is to work on doing the same with his signet ring.
Before leaving for London with Uncle Vernon this morning, she had braided Lettie's hair and twisted it into a bun. Harry had watched intently before trying to do the same to Dahlia's hair. He had mostly succeeded, the elder Potter only having to smooth some fly away strands.
The fact that her parents have knowingly deprived their children of such knowledge, on top of abandoning them to their horrendous relatives, has only further cemented the fact that Dahlia wants nothing to do with James and Lily Potter.
She turns a page, almost too absorbed in her text, Etiquette of Camelot , to notice the movement outside her compartment. She startles, book falling to the floor, as the door to the train compartment slams open. Two identical, freckled faces peer in, mops of red hair ruffled on top of their heads.
Twin pairs blue eyes scan the space before landing on her.
"You're not Charlie." The two boys speak in tandem. They look at Dahlia with a scrutinizing gaze. "Or Percy."
The three stare at one another for a moment before Dahlia finally speaks, holding out a hand. Her inner encyclopedia cycles through all the information she has read about etiquette in Avalon over the past few weeks. "No, I'm Heiress Dahlia Potter."
One twin raises his brows while the other furrows his own. They take her hand at the same time, bowing over it. "We're Master Frederick-"
"-and Master Georgian-"
"Weasley."
The boys trade off speaking before their voices come back together at the end.
"A pleasure to meet you, Masters Weasley." She forces herself to offer a small smile as she pulls her lace-gloved hand back into her lap.
"You as well, Heiress Potter." The one who had introduced himself as Georgian nods. Frederick steps forward, a flicker of confusion crosses his face.
"I apologize for being so forward, Heiress Potter, but I was under the impression that Lord and Lady Potter only had Heir Charlus Potter." Frederick tilts his head slightly, a question obvious in his statement.
Dahlia stares at him for a moment, thoughts suddenly running at the speed of light, before remembering herself. She smiles again. "They do have Lord Charlus, but I am the oldest of their children." She resists the urge to grind her teeth at the mention of her parents.
The twins blink at her, processing the statement. They share a glance with each other before offering Dahlia twin smiles. "Well, Heiress Potter-"
"-it was wonderful to meet you-"
"-but we have brothers to find-"
"-and annoy!"
"See you at the feast!"
The redheads are gone as fast as they came, leaving in a whirlwind of words. Dahlia stares at the closed door for several minutes after they've gone.
Charlus .
"Lord and Lady Potter only had Heir Charlus"
Dahlia's heart stutters in her chest. Charlie .
It's as if she's been thrown back in time. As if she's toddler, not yet knowing the horrors her life will bring. Her little brother Charlie .
The memories of her life before the Dursleys have always been vague at best, but the image of two raven headed infants is now as clear in her mind's eye than if the two boys were in the compartment with her.
Harry and Charlie.
Her clearest memory of that time has always been the night it all went wrong. The sound of her parent's screaming, their would-be-murderer laughing, and children crying. She always assumed it was her and Harry. Now she is certain that the crying came from Harry and Charlie. Her baby brothers.
Where is he? Did they keep him? Why did they keep him? Is he okay?
Her rampant thoughts are interrupted by the door sliding open once more, though this person opens it much more gently than the Weasley twins did. Dahlia brushes the image of her black haired, hazel eyed little brother away, looking at the door once more.
This time, a girl stands in the entrance. She seems to be around Dahlia's age, though slightly taller. Coily, brown curls are piled atop her head, barely restrained by a pink scrunchie. Dark green glasses frame her brown eyes. She looks nervously at Dahlia.
"Hi." The girl speaks quietly, voice high.
"Hello." Dahlia nods, resisting the urge to fidget with her gloves.
"Could I- May I sit with you? I lost track of the boy who escorted me." She averts her gaze, a light brown hand coming up to brush a loose curl away.
Dahlia hesitates before nodding again, gesturing to the bench across from her. The girl's shoulders almost slump as she sighs in relief, scurrying into the compartment and stowing her trunk. Dahlia waits until the other girl is sitting before introducing herself. "I'm Heiress Dahlia Potter, how do you do?"
Brown eyes widen slightly before the girl stands and curtsies. "Lovely to meet you, Heiress Potter. I'm Patricia Stimpson."
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Stimpson." She waves for Patricia to retake her seat, trying not to crinkle her nose. It will take her years to get used to the differences in this world. But it's worth it, for Harry and Lettie… and Charlie.
"Are you going into your first year as well, Heiress Potter?" If anything, introductions have made Patricia even more nervous. Dahlia tries not to stare as the girl tangles and untangles her fingers together repeatedly.
"Yes." Dahlia tapers off for a moment before deciding to ask a question. "Are you a Muggleborn?"
Patricia flinches, staring resolutely at her lap. "Yes. Would you like me to leave?"
"Of course not." The Potter Heiress furrows her brows. "I was just curious. I apologize if I overstepped. I'm fairly familiar with the Muggle World myself."
Patricia's gaze snaps back to Dahlia's, surprise clear on her face. "Really?"
"Yes. I have spent most of my life with my aunt and uncle. They're Muggles."
"So, you're new to this, too?" There's a hint of hope in her voice.
"I am. My brother, sister, and myself were just brought back into the Wizarding World not long ago." Dahlia internally questions why she is revealing so much to this stranger, but does not feel compelled to stop. "They're not old enough for Hogwarts yet."
"I have a younger brother, too! His name is Ryan, he's five." Relief seems to be palpable in the air around Patricia once more, common ground relaxing her into conversation.
Dahlia smiles at Patricia. "My sister, Lady Violet, is five as well. My brothers, Master Harold and Lord Charlus, are nine." It's odd to call her siblings by their titles, even odder to name two brothers instead of one. Still, it almost seems natural to include Charlie when speaking of them, as if his absence didn't even happen. She hopes that Charlie will feel the same way when she finds him.
Patricia frowns. "I hated to leave him. He begged me to stay or take him with me. But I know the wait will be worth it when he gets his letter!" She brightens toward the end.
"He's a muggleborn as well?"
"Yes. Or at least I'm pretty sure he is. Some of the incidents that I've been told to be caused by accidental magic don't seem likely to have originated with me. He's my only sibling, so it must be him."
Dahlia hums. "Perhaps he and my sister will be friends when they attend. It seems as if they will be in the same year."
"Maybe." Patricia nods. "Have you looked at our course materials yet?"
"I tried to read the first few chapters of each book. I do have to admit that I read the entirety of our potions text. I started and didn't stop until I was finished." A light blush graces Dahlia's cheeks as Patricia grins.
"Charms was the one I raced through. Potions seemed a bit too much like cooking for me."
The girls giggle before launching into a more in depth discussion of their readings. Their train ride seems to fly by as they come to know one another better.
-
Standing still seems to be a hard thing to accomplish for Dahlia this evening. As the first years gather in the Great Hall, standing in the middle of four long tables, it seems as if every eye in the hall is on the group. Dahlia forces herself to face the front as Professor McGonagall calls names out one by one. By the time she reached the P's, the Potter Heiress could feel her knees shaking. Patricia stands beside her, anxiety showing through her trembling hands, clutching her black robe.
"Park, Min-jun."
A short boy with straight black hair walks forward, almost stumbling. Less than ten seconds after the brim of the ragged hat covers his eyes, the animated accessory shouts. "GRYFFINDOR!" The table bedecked in red explodes with noise once again.
"Patterson, Isabella."
The blonde girl has her hair in a rather intricate braided bun, much more complicated than Dahlia's own. She sits primly on the three legged stool. Her sorting takes slightly longer than Park's. "HUFFLEPUFF!" The yellow table is only slightly less boisterous in their applause than the Gryffindors.
"Potter, Dahlia."
Patricia throws her an encouraging smile. Dahlia doesn't have the heart to return it. She shakily makes her way to the front of the room. In a distant part of her mind, she takes note of the whispers that are suddenly making rounds through the hall.
"Potter? As in 'Heir Charlus Potter'?"
"Do you think she's related to the Boy-Who-Lived, like Master Richard Potter is?"
"Dahlia Potter? Didn't the Potter's daughter die when, well, when Heir Potter defeated High Lord Slytherin?"
Dahlia forces the hissed questions from her mind, sitting down and letting the hat drop upon her head. Her vision goes dark as the brim falls over her eyes. The sounds of the hall are suddenly gone, as if blocked by the pointed hat. She folds her hands in her lap as she waits.
Hm. Aren't you an interesting one?
She resists the urge to jump as thoughts that are not her own whisper through her mind.
Apologies, Heiress Potter. I did not mean to startle you.
Is that the Hat? Is it speaking in her head?
It's a rather clever bit of magic isn't it? Your ancestor, Godric Gryffindor, enchanted me himself.
She's related to one of the founders?
You are rather behind on your family history, are you not?
It's not as if she's behind by choice. She didn't ask to be abandoned by her family.
You're right, of course. Your lack of knowledge is not your fault. But you do crave such knowledge. All knowledge. You'd do rather well in Ravenclaw.
Of course she would, Dahlia had read up on the Hogwarts Houses. She thought she could do well in any. As long as she was able to protect and provide for Harry and Lettie, she didn't care what house she was in.
You're loyal as well, to those you care about. Even the sibling you've not yet met, you subconsciously include him. A trait of Hufflepuff, that is.
Why wouldn't she be loyal to her siblings? They're the only family she has. She would do anything for them.
That you would. You've shown bravery in the face of adversity for your siblings time and time again. How Gryffindor of you.
She had to, has to , be brave. Somebody has to stand up for them. If she's going to build a better life for them, she has to keep them alive and well to be able to live such a life.
There it is. Your ambition . You have plans, goals. You are willing to do almost anything to achieve your aims. To stay alive in order to keep your children alive.
Everyone has goals. Dahlia is just rather adamant that she will accomplish hers.
You've decided, then? Are we in agreement? In such case, you'll do well in-
"SLYTHERIN!"
The silence in the wake of the Sorting Hat's announcement is almost deafening, more so than the cheers of the Gryffindor table had been.
After a moment, the table swathed in green bursts into applause. This does nothing to curb the confusion on faces across the hall or the eyes that follow Dahlia as she hands the hat back to Professor McGonagall and makes her way to an empty seat.
She settles onto the end of the bench, trying to put some space between her and the other students. Absently, she turns her gaze back to the sorting, parsing through the Hat's words. 'Pucey, Adrian' joins the cluster of Slytherin first years next, followed by auburn haired twins, 'Prewett, Benjamin' and 'Prewett Patrick,' going to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff respectively. Her interest peaks several minutes later, as 'Stimpson, Patricia' is called.
Her potential new friend slowly makes her way to the stool, seeming to be struggling to keep a blank expression. The Hall is silent once more as long seconds tick by. Just short of the two minute mark, the brim of the Hat opens.
"SLYTHERIN!"
A wide grin takes over Patricia's face as she removes the hat to hand it to Professor McGonagall, looking at Dahlia. A warmth fills Dahlia. Is Patricia happy because they're in the same house?
The curly headed witch is soon sitting beside her, still grinning.
"Congratulations." Dahlia's voice is quiet as she shares a smile of her own.
"You too!" Patricia does not share the same compunctions of whispering. A few of the other first years throw them disapproving looks, though both girls ignore them in favor of watching the last few students sorted.
The sorting ends with the twins Dahlia met on the train. Both 'Weasley, Frederick' and 'Weasley, Georgian' are directed to the Gryffindor table. The Great Hall dissolves into murmurs as the last first year takes his seat. A few moments later, Headmaster Dumbledore stands from his seat at the middle of the top table.
"Welcome and welcome back to a new year at Hogwarts!" Even from her seat at the Slytherin table, she can see his eyes twinkling. "I am so glad to see so many new and familiar faces. I'm sure that none of you would appreciate me holding up your supper, so we will save the announcements for after pudding." He chuckles as if he had made a joke. "Without further ado, tuck in!"
The elder wizard waves his hands with a flourish as he ends his short speech. As he retakes his seat, the wood of the tables suddenly groan. The sound causes Dahlia to whip back around, eyes widening at the sight of all of the food now covering the table top. She is not sure she's ever seen so much food in her life. This might be more than every meal she's ever cooked for the Dursleys combined. Her mouth waters at the sight.
As soon as the ravenous hunger crosses her mind, it vanishes. How can she possibly enjoy this feast when her brother and sister are most likely stuck in the smallest bedroom with nothing more than scraps of their relatives' meals.
Her stomach shrivels inside her.
Taking a breath, she manages to put a piece of chicken and a few vegetables on her plate. She's sure that under any other circumstances it would be the most delicious thing she has ever tasted. Tonight it just tastes like sand.
"Are you okay, Heiress Potter?" Patricia's question startles her from her melancholy thoughts.
"Hm? Oh, yes. I'm fine, Stimpson. Thank you. I suppose that I'm just missing my siblings." The other girl nods in sympathy at her response.
"Excuse me, Heiress Potter?" Dahlia tears her gaze from her friend to look across the table, seeing a pale boy with brown hair and brown eyes. "I apologize for intruding on your conversation. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I am Heir Adrian Pucey."
Dahlia holds out her hand over the table. The boy takes it in his own and bows his head over it. "Heiress Dahlia Potter. A pleasure to meet you, Heir Pucey."
"Likewise. As I was saying, I couldn't help but overhear. You mentioned your siblings? I apologize for any forwardness on my part, but I was under the impression that Charlus Potter was the heir to your house. And that he was an only child?"
The conversations around them dim, obvious that others are trying to listen to Dahlia's answer. She clears her throat.
"Lord Charlus is one of my younger brothers. He is the third child of Lord and Lady Potter. I am the first, then Master Harold, Lord Charlus, and finally Lady Violet."
Heir Pucey's brows crawl up his forehead as whispers begin to fill the air around them. "Lord and Lady Potter have four children?" His tone is one of disbelief.
"Apparently." Dahlia nods before turning back to Patricia, ending her conversation with the Pucey heir. "What do you think our Professors will be like?"
As promised, the Headmaster stood once again as the remnants of dessert disappeared. Dahlia readily turns her attention to him, not wanting to miss any information she might find herself in need of.
"Again, welcome back to Hogwarts. As we bring in the new school year, there are announcements that need to be made and rules that should be reminded. As always, there is a list available at Mister Argus Filch, our caretaker's, office of all Zonko's products that are prohibited. Further, there are those that should be reminded that there is not to be magic cast in the corridors and the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds for a reason." The old wizard looks over the students with his twinkling eyes before continuing. "As many of you are aware, Professor Ratepick is no longer on staff. Please join me in welcoming our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Adalbert Whitby."
Varying levels of applause ring through the hall as a middle aged man stood from his seat at the end of the head table. He wears a deep purple wizard's cap, which seems to hide a balding head, and matching robes. The wizard gives a short wave, not showing much expression before swiping a hand under his bulbous nose and sitting down once more.
"Before we all retire for the evening, let us come together for our school song!" Headmaster Dumbledore raises his arms, gesturing for the students to rise. With a wave of his wand, golden words are written in the air above them all. "Now, pick a tune and sing along!"
It is the absolute worst noise Dahlia has ever heard, and she had to experience Dudley's brief foray into trombone lessons. She almost whispers the words, as does the rest of Slytherin House. The other tables are much louder in their renditions of "Hoggy-Warty-Hogwarts." It's a large relief when the song finally ends.
"I wish you all a goodnight. Prefects, please escort the first years to their dormitories." The dismissal is all the houses of Hogwarts need to hear, causing many students to rush for the large doors.
"First years with me, this way." A stocky boy with shoulder length blond hair stands before the younger students. He wears a green and silver badge on his robes, proclaiming him a prefect. His voice is rather deep and monotone, gaze hard. Dahlia resists the urge to step closer to Patricia as he scrutinizes the first years.
Much more calmly than their counterparts, the Slytherin students leave the hall. The blond prefect leads them down stone steps, into the castle dungeons. Despite the lingerings of summer, the underground corridors are cold, causing Dahlia to shiver. Eventually, their group comes to a stop in front of a blank stretch of wall.
"Aconite." The older boy speaks clearly, loud enough for all of the first years to hear him. Similar to the brick wall in Diagon Alley, a doorway comes into being. "Please make your way into the center of the common room. Professor Snape should be waiting for us to arrive."
Trying to avoid brushing up against any of her peers, Dahlia shuffles with the group into the room. The Slytherin common room is lit with warm light, sconces lining the walls. Throughout the room are plush sofas and armchairs, with a space for desks along the wall opposite the entrance. This wall is made completely of windows, showing the depths of the lake that sits outside of the castle. Dahlia barely manages to school her features, looking around in wonder.
"Welcome to Slytherin." The deep voice draws her attention from the creatures swimming past the windows to the tall man standing by the large fireplace. He might have intimidated Dahlia at one time, but she's learned that not much can be worse than the life she's experienced with her relatives. The first years gather on the circular rug before the man, standing close together without actually touching.
The wizard, presumably Professor Snape, looks down his hooked nose at the children. His appearance vaguely reminds Dahlia of Count Dracula, though she doesn't believe the Professor would appreciate the comparison.
"You will find that you have entered the house of the cunning, sly, and ambitious. Our house's ambition is to bring honor to our founder's name. I expect each of you to use the former traits to achieve such goals." Black eyes sweep over their group. Dahlia feels as if the professor stares at her for a moment longer than the rest, but there's no time to question it before he is speaking once more. "Slytherin house is a house united. I do not care what disagreements may happen between you behind closed doors, as long as tensions are not obvious to your fellow students. You will all stand together when faced by the rest of the school. I will accept nothing less than a united front."
A couple of the first years shift uncomfortably, but not a word is said in defiance of the instructions.
"Now, our fifth year prefects will show you to your dormitories. You will all be at breakfast at seven sharp tomorrow morning. I will pass out your class schedules at that time. My office hours are Monday through Thursday from after dinner until curfew. Outside of these times please refer to a prefect first and they will find me if the need arises. Each of you will receive notice of an appointment with our resident healer, Madam Pomfrey for your beginning of year check ups." The wizard pauses, as if waiting for questions. "I bid you all a good night."
Black robes billow as their vampire-esque head of house sweeps from the room, the stone wall building itself back up behind him.
"Ladies, with me." An older girl steps forward from the Slytherins that line the outskirts of the common room. She's shorter than the gruff boy who led them here, her dark braid pulled into an intricate updo. Without another word, she walks toward one of the hallways that branches off the main chamber.
Dahlia walks beside Patricia, brushing arms just slightly. It's only a couple of minutes before they come to a stop in front of a dark wooden door.
"This will be the room the seven of you share for the next seven years. Your belongings have been placed at the foot of your assigned bed. I suggest you make friends with each other, or your school years will be rather awkward." She finally cracks a smile at the girls, showing off shiny white teeth. "I am Miss Eloise Gardener, please don't hesitate to find me if you need help. I will meet you in the common room at 6:45 to escort you to breakfast in the morning."
And just like that, the first years are left alone. When it seems as if they are just going to stand in the corridor the entire night, Dahlia pushes the door open.
Seven beds line the circular room, dark green curtains hanging around them. At the foot of each lays a trunk. On one side of each bed is a desk with a cushioned chair. There's one other door in the room, most likely leading to an attached loo. Dahlia's eyes immediately catch on her trunk.
The girls move quietly about the room, getting ready for bed. Patricia and Dahlia send each other small smiles before the lights dim and curtains are drawn.
-
Dear Harry and Lettie,
I miss you both terribly. It's not even been a full day and I'm not sure how I'll make it through an entire year without you two. I hope all is well with you both so far, please let me know if it isn't
The train ride was enjoyable. I even made a friend! Her name is Patricia and she's a muggleborn. She's very nice. Her little brother is your age, Lettie, so you two will attend Hogwarts together. I met a set of twins as well, Masters Frederick and Georgian Weasley. They were rather funny. They did give me some new information about our parents, though. I will explain over the Christmas holidays when we're all together again.
I'd love some pictures to decorate my part of the room with, if you'd like to break in your new art supplies! I'd usually say to draw me something including the color blue, but I didn't go into Ravenclaw as we had expected.
No, your sister is a Slytherin. So, I suppose my colors will be green and silver from now on!
Tell me about your days and if Aunt and Uncle or Dudley have been a pain. Write soon, please.
All of my love,
Lia