A/N: Hi, everyone! I uploaded this prematurely because I was getting impatient. A few clarifications I'd like to make: The Arcane Affliction is an AU where the Prophecy does not exist, and both of Harry's parents are alive. :) Secondly, NOT ALL OF THIS IS MY OWN WORK. There are quite a few elements based on other fanfics such as the Pureblood Pretense by murkybluematter, and Swung by Serafim by flamethrower. I'd quite recommend checking out them both. Finally, I will be going back and elongating this chapter, so if there are any changes or pieces of advice you'd like to make, drop it in the comments. Enjoy!
Anastasia glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror. She had ducked into the first one she could find on the Hogwarts Express and promptly changed into her school robes, for efficiency's sake. The illusional barrier at the station hadn't even fazed her anymore—she figured the wizarding world had a lot more weirder things in store for her. She did a double-take as she caught a glimpse of her reflection. The girl in the mirror had dark circles around her solemn brown eyes, her onyx locks disheveled_ and streaked with flyaways. Her lips were chapped and her skin pallid from exhaustion. That'll teach me to do underage magic outside of Hogwarts, she thought ruefully. It was a wonder the Ministry of Magic hadn't brought an entire fire brigade screaming onto her plane.
Giving up on trying to tame her appearance, she set off in search for a vacant compartment. On the way, she passed hordes of children—some crying, some excited, and some catching up with their friends. Everything still felt surreal; she should've been back in China, living her old life with her old friends and her parents, not in this alien train with people she had nothing in common with. Was this the reason why her parents had been so worried about her traveling abroad? Anastasia had brushed it off as them overreacting at the time, but now she found their anxiety justified as another pang of homesickness struck her.
It was nearly to the end of the train that she finally found a suitable compartment. There was only one other girl in it. Anastasia raised a tentative hand and slid open the door. "Is there anyone else sitting here?" She asked. The girl looked surprised for a second, and then her face relaxed.
"No, you can sit here if you want."
"Perfect," she injected as much gratitude into her voice as she could manage in her weary state. The girls exchanged small smiles as Anastasia sat across from her, taking care not to trip over the heavy fabric of her robes. "All the other compartments are pretty much full, anyways."
"Yes, it is rather crowded out there, isn't it? I've read that the scions of prominent Wizarding families all know each other before Hogwarts." The girl had voluminous, bushy brown hair and spoke very quickly. "Mum and Dad were ever so worried I'd have trouble making friends. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. Pleased to meet you."
"My parents had the same concerns," Anastasia said. "Maybe it's just a thing all of them have in common. It's nice to meet you, Hermione. I'm Anastasia." She didn't mention her last name.
"Are your parents magic?" Hermione blurted. She blushed at the quizzical look Anastasia shot her. "I didn't mean to be rude! Only, nobody in my family's magic at all, and I was wondering what it's like, growing up in a house full of magic. I've learnt all of our course books by heart, of course, but it still can't beat real life experience."
"Well," Anastasia said very slowly, trying to counteract the other girl's rapid-fire speech. "I wouldn't know, since no one in my family's magical as well. Would it matter if they were, though?—I mean, we all came here for a single purpose, and it's to learn, right?"
Hermione visibly deflated. "I suppose you're right. Still, I can't help being curious…"She quickly cheered up, switching to another topic. "What about your accent, though? It sounds American. You don't look like you came around these parts, either." She eyed Anastasia like she had very suddenly become the newest object of her interest. Anastasia shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"I'm…Chinese," she admitted. "My dad's from America, but he met my mother in Shanghai, and that's where I—where they live now. One of the Professors delivered by letter and took me to get my things by Portkey, and that's how I'm able to be here now." She waited for Hermione's face to drop into a frown. Her parents had warned her about racism, after all.
"Oh, but that's wonderful!" Anastasia, who had been wishing for her textbook to divert the awkwardness, looked up into Hermione's beaming face. "Mum and Dad have always talked about diversity and meeting people from other countries, but I never thought I'd meet one on my very first day! Stacy—is it okay if I call you Stacy? What's life in Shanghai like? Can you speak Mandarin?" Instead of sneers and scowls, Anastasia was bombarded with questions, and soon they were bonding over their shared interest of books.
"—1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi is interesting, but there's no cross-indexing at all."
"They should write a second book that explicitly describes their uses in Potions as well." Anastasia agreed. She had tried to brew a couple in her basement with the book as reference, but had a hard time locating the ingredients as the textbook was in alphabetical order.
"Do you suppose you'll be good at Potions? I think I'll be more interested in Transfiguration. Dumbledore himself was a Transfiguration Master, you know—"
"Excuse me," there came a knock on the door. The girls looked up from where they were immersed in their conversation. It was a boy with brown hair and a roundish face. "Have any of you seen a toad?"
Anastasia shook her head. Hermione, god bless her, stood up and offered to help him search. "Stacy will come too!" She insisted.
Anastasia pointed at herself with a who, me? expression. "I will?" The brown-haired girl turned pleading brown eyes on her, leaving no room for argument.
On the way, they continued their small talk, making sure to include the boy—Neville, as he was tentatively introduced as. Anastasia felt foolish going around and knocking on every compartment. She was sure Neville felt it too, as he kept sending apologetic glances her way, but Hermione plowed on, completely oblivious to her subtle discomfort as she held complete conversations with random strangers. It was rather obvious to Anastasia that the bushy-haired girl had a bit of a saving-people thing.
"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." They had arrived at yet another compartment and Anastasia was beginning to feel boredom sink in. This one had two boys in it: one with red hair and another with untidy black curls. The red-haired boy had a battered wand in his hand and was pointing it at a broken strap of a bag—presumably the black-haired boy's, from the way he was looking it it nervously.
"We've already told him we haven't seen it," Red hair grumped, but Hermione had stopped paying anything attention since she'd laid eyes on his wand.
"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She sat down, motioning for Anastasia to follow her example. Anastasia complied, plopping gratefully on the cushion. Red hair looked taken aback.
"Er—all right." He cleared his throat.
"Eye of rabbit, morning dew,
Make this bag strap whole and new."
Nothing happened. The bag strap stayed broken, and Anastasia had to stifle a giggle at the incantation, which was essentially a children's rhyme. Hermione was clearly thinking the same thing. "Are you sure that's a real spell?" She asked. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me."
Anastasia's eyes widened. Hermione was spilling her life story all over the floor, but all Anastasia could think about was her earlier. What did she mean, tried a few spells herself? Didn't the Statute of Secrecy exist? Was her earlier fretting over the donkey incident all for naught? She made a mental note to ask Hermione about it later, after she had finished talking. Anastasia glanced at her, now extrapolating the different Houses they'd be in. Maybe not. From the looks of it, it was going to take a long time for her to shut up.
"…coming, Stacy?"
"…huuuuh?" Anastasia was jerked out of her thoughts by an expectant Hermione. She repeated her earlier question impatiently.
"No thanks," Anastasia replied. Hermione could manage finding the toad on her own. Also, she really didn't want to leave her seat. "I'm a bit tired. I might just stay here for a bit, if you don't mind." Hermione shot her a disappointed look, but reluctantly agreed, taking toadless Neville with her.
"Whatever House I'm in, I hope she's not in it—er, no offense," said Red hair, throwing her an apologetic gaze. He shoved his wand into his trunk.
"None taken," Anastasia murmured.
The boy with the dark hair piped up in effort to ease the tension. He had a carefree, easygoing sort of smile that she knew from experience usually appeared on people that could swear eternal friendship one second and mercilessly prank you in your sleep the next. "It's Stacy, right?"
"It's Anastasia, Anastasia Quill," she supplied. Then she added, sheepishly: "I'm afraid I didn't catch either of your names."
"I'm Ron Weasley."
"Harry Potter."
"What House do you think you'll be in?" Harry asked, obviously thinking back to their earlier conversation with Hermione.
"I'm not sure, actually. Have either of you thought about it?"
"Gryffindor, of course. That's where both my parents were."
"My brothers too," Ron announced dully. "All my family have been in Gryffindor. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."
Harry made a face. "That's the House Lord Riddle is in, if I'm not wrong?" Anastasia was confused for a moment, as she initially thought he was making a reference to the actual word 'riddle', but then quickly realized that he was talking about a real person.
"Excuse me, but who is this Lord Riddle?"
The minute the words left her mouth, she regretted it, but it was already too late for remorse. The boys' eyes lit up and they proceeded to launch into a convoluted and colorful explanation about the Magical Ancestry Global Integrity Coalition, or MAGIC for short. Basically, it was a conservative political movement led by the aforementioned Lord Riddle. The party and everything it stood for believed that the issues of Wizarding Society stemmed from people of lesser magical lineage—blood, basically. "That's you, by the way," said Ron. "As a muggleborn, you'd be at the top of their 'Undesirables' list."
Harry nodded. "My dad's the head Auror, and he says they've been recently fighting a piece of legislation that prohibits muggleborns from attending Hogwarts. If I were you, I would definitely stay away from any MAGIC supporters."
There was a sick feeling in Anastasia's stomach as she realized that if the legislation had been set earlier, she wouldn't have even been allowed to board the train. "Well," she said, trying to force a smile. "Wizarding politics sure are interesting." She certainly didn't getthatbit of information in her history books.
"Have you heard of the new ward they're funding in St. Mungo's, though?" Harry, sensing her discomfort, said in an attempt to bring the conversation back to lighter topics."It's for magically injured children, apparently. I heard Lucius Malfoy donated most of funds himself."
"I think it's all poppycock," Ron scoffed. "What need does a political party have for a children's ward? Unless it's to bar all the children of inferior lineage from receiving medical treatment, there's no point."
"Maybe the Malfoy son is sick," said Harry hopefully.
"It's probably to curry favor with the public." Anastasia piped up. At their incredulous looks, she shrugged. "What? A lot of muggle politicians donate to charity to win over the masses. It's the oldest trick in the book."
"It might be," Harry said slowly. "Anyways, enough about politics. We better go put on our robes—I can see the lights of Hogsmeade Station in the distance." Indeed, the sky outside was darkening, mountains and forests replacing the city view.
As if reading her mind, a loudspeaker echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."
"Alright, I guess this is it," Harry got up with a friendly smile and clapped her on the shoulder. "Nice talking to you, Anastasia. See you at Hogwarts, then?"
"Yeah, I better go find Hermione as well." How did he look so calm? Ron was so pale his freckles stood out, and Anastasia could feel her legs trembling under her robes. She strode out of the compartment, taking care to quicken her movement to mask how much she was shaking. Hermione was waiting for her in their old compartment, and they silently joined the crowd thonging the corridor. The train gradually came to a halt, and soon they were all outside, quaking in the frigid night air. Anastasia didn't remember much of the journey, only that they had to travel a portion by boat and Hermione's nervous chattering and how it was so, so cold.
They finally reached the massive doors, where they were received by Professor McGonagall. Under normal circumstances, Anastasia might have greeted the austere lady, but she was frozen silly by the brisk English weather. While she thawed, the rest of the First Years were brought into a cloistered chamber.
'Welcome to Hogwarts,' said Professor McGonagall. 'The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Anastasia's flyaways. Anastasia blanched. She knew she should have borrowed a hairbrush from someone. Oh, whatever. It wasn't like the whole school would be watching…right?