Terms:
Pei pei pei = An onomatopoeia derived from the sound of spitting. It's usually used in cases where someone says something wrong and wants to take it back.
King's Cross Station, London.
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.
Pei pei pei!* What the heck are you thinking about? Don't jinx yourself! She forcibly pushed the offending thought into the back of her mind.
Already given 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, also wearing her robes. Anastasia took it as a good sign and slid the door open. "Is there anyone else sitting here?"
The girl looked surprised for a second, and then her face relaxed. "No, you can sit here if you want."
"Perfect." 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. She was too lazy to explain the implications behind it.
Anastasia had debated with her parents back whether to keep her last name constant, given the inability of English speakers to pronounce Mandarin surnames, but in the end had changed it to Quill—a more pronounceable version of Qiu, which she had inherited from her mother's side. The name itself meant autumn, but coupled with the other character of her name, Yu, it described autumn rain. "秋雨温柔缠绵，如丝如缕，若酒若醇"—"The autumn rain is gentle and lingering, like silk, like wine." That was the poem it had come from. It was all very refined and sophisticated, but whoever had named her had gotten one little thing wrong.
It! Didn't! Suit! Her! At! All!
Hadn't anyone heard her swear before? Yet, they still dared to name her the living embodiment of silk or wine. Her ancestors must have been rolling in their graves!
"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."
Ah, there was the question. She supposed it would come sooner or later. Better get it out of the way.
"I'm…Chinese," she admitted, very carefully. "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."
There. She braced herself for the usual questions—How is your English so good? Can you teach me Mandarin? Why do your people eat dogs?
"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, nice ones, 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. During that solitary month before school, 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. Surprisingly, despite the added challenge, none of them had blown up in her face.
"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.
Who, me?
"I will?"
Hermione left no room for argument as she dragged Anastasia bodily out of the compartment.
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. Eh. Whatever made her happy.
But why did she have to get Anastasia involved?!
"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." They had arrived at yet another compartment and she 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. What did she mean, tried a few spells herself? She made a mental note to ask Hermione about it later, after she had finished talking. Could it be that the earlier donkey incident was just her overreacting? 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 the 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, echoing 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. "Oh. That's the House Lord Riddle is in, if I'm not wrong?" Both of them wore similarly distasteful expressions at the mention of name. Was there any bad history between them? Her curiosity was piqued.
"Excuse me, but who is this Lord Riddle?"
Thirty minutes later, Anastasia was nursing a huge headache as she struggled to wrap her mind around the boys' extremely 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."
Anastasia nodded blankly, but couldn't process a single word he was saying.
She should not have asked that!
How come whenever she opened her mouth, she got a condensed bucketload of history lessons?! She wanted to vomit blood.
Harry, "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."
She forced a smile. "Well, Wizarding politics sure are interesting." She certainly didn't get that bit of information in her history books. If it was written there, she was sure it would've been three times as thick.
"Well, boys, I've got to run. Plenty of things to do…I've got to, er, go put makeup on!" Never in a million years would she want do that, but they didn't need to know. She desperately needed an excuse to escape the stifling compartment with the two overbearing history professors!
Ron, "Wait! We haven't told you of the new legislation yet!"
Anastasia, "Bye bye!"
As she was halfway to freedom, she stopped dead in her tracks as she thought of something. As fast as she ran away, she scurried back, cursing herself as she did so. Damn OCD! She would never forgive herself if she didn't do what she was about to do.
She barged in the compartment, short of breath from the running. Ron's eyes lit up, and he began to say something—presumably about the legislation or something equally boring, but Anastasia expertly cut him off.
"Saccus Reparo!" She cried, pointing her wand at the bag strap. It fused seamlessly together and became as good as new again, to gasps of wonder from the two boys.
"Woah!"
"How did you do that?"
She left them no answer and left as quickly as she came.
Haha! So that was what making a dramatic exit felt like! Anastasia felt bloody fantastic.
The spell was in one of her textbooks: The Standard Book of Spells by Miranda Goshawk. Anastasia had read it only twelve hours ago when she was out of her mind with boredom at the airport. She didn't expect, however, for it to be put into application so soon. Her first official spell, then. A smashing success! She wanted to skip with joy.
She found Hermione and Neville a couple compartments down. "Still no luck?"
"No," came the forlorn reply. Neville looked close to tears, the poor boy. Hermione, on the other hand, was eyeing her suspiciously.
"Have you been running? Why are you grinning so much?"
"Yeah, it's quite scary." Neville chimed in.
Anastasia smoothed her features into something more relaxed. "Better now?"
The twin expressions of identical horror on both their faces told her everything. Even worse, Hermione had to add insult to injury by exclaiming:
"No, don't do that! That's even scarier!"
Anastasia, "…"
Why were these people so hard to please?
Hogwarts Express, end of train.
Just as trio had settled into a compartment, 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."
With a sigh, Anastasia looked outside the window. Indeed, the sky outside was darkening, mountains and forests replacing the city view. Anastasia regretfully said goodbye to her comfy, cushioned seat and followed Hermione. 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. They were led down a path and taken to a lake, where they had to sail across in boats. Anastasia didn't remember most of the journey. She dedicated her attention to Hermione's nervous chattering, a reminder that it was all real and not a dream.
When they finally reached the massive doors, they were received by Professor McGonagall. Under normal circumstances, Anastasia might have greeted the austere lady, but she was frozen stupid 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?
"I shall return when we are ready for you,' said Professor McGonagall, catching her eye. She looked vaguely disapproving. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber, leaving their group to agonize in isolation.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Anastasia sidled up to Harry, who seemed more knowledgeable about wizarding customs than anyone else she knew. Well, the safest person, anyways. Some of the people would probably would boot her from the castle if she approached them. And Ron…she shivered. She didn't prefer another in-depth history lesson from the red-haired menace.
Harry was happy to oblige. "Some sort of test, I think. Dad and Uncle Sirius say it hurts a lot, but I think they were joking. They wouldn't let Uncle Remus tell me, either."
The silence was overwhelming. The room seemed split into two sections: half of the students looked awfully terrified, their little faces white and knees audibly knocking together. The other half were calm and composed; their stiff postures and lack of confusion suggested careful upbringing and ample preparation for this moment. A lot of these students also wore disdainful expressions on their youthful faces. Anastasia had a feeling none of them were going to be friendly to her if they knew her blood status. And Hermione…Anastasia blinked. Hermione was was pacing around, whispering about all the spells she'd need for the Sorting.
Was this the oppressive feeling overachievers gave off?
Anastasia kept her eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead her to purgatory.
Then something happened which made everyone jump about a foot in the air – several people behind him screamed.
"What the –?" That was from Ron. People gasped. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to each other and hardly glancing at the first-years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance—"
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost—I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first-years. Nobody answered.
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"
A few people nodded mutely.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now,' said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. "Now, form a line," she told the first-years, "and follow me."
Anastasia fell into step behind Hermione as they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
She had heard tales of Hogwarts' so-called magnificence, but she hadn't really taken them seriously at that time. People had a tendency towards the hyperbole. Now, as she gazed at the splendor of the dining hall, she was trying her best not to gape.
So they all were telling the truth!
It illuminated by countless floating candles that hovered in the air above four long tables filled with students. The tables were adorned with glittering golden plates and goblets. At one end of the hall, another lengthy table was reserved for the teachers. Professor McGonagall guided the first-year students to a stop in front of the other students, with the teachers positioned behind them. The multitude of faces gazing at them seemed like pale lanterns flickering in the candlelight. Scattered among the students, the ghosts shimmered with a misty silver glow. And they were all looking at her. To escape the intense scrutiny, Anastasia looked up and noticed a velvety black ceiling peppered with stars. Hermione whispered to her, "It's enchanted to mimic the sky outside; I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."
Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first-years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. Her movements were smooth and well-rehearsed, like she'd done it too many times to count. Anastasia supposed she had, being a teacher for so long. She turned her attention to the hat. It was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Anastasia wondered what they had to do with it.
Everyone was staring at the hat. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat began to sing:
In the great hall, where candles gleam,
With whispers of magic and hopes that beam,
I sit atop my perch so high,
To sort the ones as they pass by.
First, I call to those with heart,
Who face their fears and play their part.
With courage fierce and spirits bright,
In Gryffindor, you'll find your light.
Next come those with loyalty strong,
With kindness woven in their song.
In Hufflepuff, you'll find your place,
Where hard work shines and friendships grace.
Now to the seekers of knowledge vast,
With clever minds that learn so fast.
For wisdom's path is yours to sail.
In Ravenclaw, you will prevail.
Last but not least, the cunning crew,
With ambition sharp and dreams in view.
In Slytherin, you'll rise and scheme,
For greatness is born from a daring dream.
So as you sit beneath this hat,
Remember well where your heart is at.
For each house holds its own great tale,
And together we'll make Hogwarts prevail!
So step right up, don't be afraid,
Your journey begins; let's make the grade!
With magic and friendship to guide your way,
Welcome to Hogwarts—let's start today!
The hall broke into thunderous applause. Anastasia let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding until now in relief. She shot a look at Harry, who shrugged sheepishly. I didn't know either, he mouthed.
Other people had larger reactions. Ron whispered to Harry: "So we've just got to try on the hat! I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."
Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause. "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat. The table on the right cheered and clapped as the girl went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. The Fat Friar waved merrily at her.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them. "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Anastasia could see a pair of twins catcalling from the far end.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Sometimes the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnegan, Seamus", sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
"Granger, Hermione!"
Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned.
When Neville Longbottom was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted "GRYFFINDOR", Neville ran still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "Malfoy, Draco".
"Nott" … "Parkinson"… then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" … and then—
"Potter, Harry!" Anastasia sent the dark-haired boy a thumbs-up as he walked to the stool. The boy, who normally radiated an aura of confidence, was pale as his face disappeared under the dark brim of the hat. "GRYFFINDOR!" The hat bellowed. Harry emerged, grinning amid the congratulations of the Gryffindor table. There were only a pitiful number of people left now; Ron and herself were the only ones she recognized.
"Quill, Anastasia!"
She curled her hands softly in her robes, still feeling like she was wearing a bathrobe and not real clothes. Hermione caught her eye from the Gryffindor table and gave her an encouraging hat was fairly large; it tipped over her face and covered both her eyes. Anastasia was sure she looked fairly ridiculous. She wished that it would be over quickly; then she could stop being the center of attention.
"So impatient," chuckled a small voice in her ear. She had to suppress a flinch at the sudden sound. "Can't we just have a nice chat?"
Anastasia swore explosively in her head.
"Sorry," she said after she had gotten over the shock. "I just didn't know you were…fully sentient." Or that you could read minds, she added silently. She prayed that the Sorting Hat didn't pay attention to her profanities. It must've picked up on it, because it laughed again.
"There are many things people assume we can't do, eh? All we need to do is surpass their expectations. Let's see…now where should I put you?" It didn't mention her swearing. Anastasia thanked the gods.
"Hufflepuff sounds nice," she suggested, somewhat sarcastically. "Or no. Actually, put me in Gryffindor! Hermione will kill me if I don't get in. That girl is scary, I'm telling you."
"Miss Granger does seem like a formidable person. However, I'm afraid friendship is only one aspect of life. Neither of the Houses you suggested would be beneficial to your personal growth. It's my job as the Sorting Hat to make sure you reach your full potential within your chosen House."
Anastasia, "?"
Didn't it just ask her to choose?
If it was going to reject her choices, then why did it offer her the option in the first place?!
It! Was! Not! Fair!
"Life is not fair all the time," the hat said philosophically. "Well, there's a good brain in there, at least. Ravenclaw could suit you, if you want to take that path…no?" It paused at Anastasia's vehement head-shaking. Her? A Ravenclaw?! Her classmates would laugh themselves to death.
The Hat sighed. "Well, that leaves only one House left. You've got the ambition for it as well. Have fun in…"
Anastasia's face slowly alternated between green and white as she figured out what the last House was. Horror slowly dawned on her and she cursed herself for backing herself into a corner with her last choice.
"SLYTHERIN!" The hat bellowed.
Anastasia yanked it off her head like it was on fire and threw it on the stool. The rip in it was curved in a grin, which she was sure was its own way of mocking her. She wanted to stomp on the thing.
Who was the Hat kidding?
Slytherin?!
You've got ambition, the one with most ambition is you!
[ end of chapter two ]
A/N: Tadaaaaaaaa! Chapter 2 is out! Finally! Anyone excited/disgusted by the plot so far? Tell me in the comments! Oh, and I forgot to add this disclaimer last time: all characters, except for Anastasia, belong to J.K Rowling. None of the HP universe is mine.
The Arcane Affliction is an AU where the Prophecy does not exist, and both of Harry's parents are alive. :) There are also 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. Hope you enjoyed it! Stay safe, y'all!