[The funny things about wands is that- they don't like you. Not really. Honestly, they're bits of dead animals stuck in a wand that gain a personality. Once you get your wand, they like your magic. Not because you are a good looking bloke who is magnificent in every way. So I think the best advice that I ever figured out is that you should treat it well. You're the one swinging it around like an idiot for the rest of your life, you might as well make it last. Personally, I've named mine Craigory. Because I feel like it is both a Craig and a Gregory at the same time. That being said, use wand polishing kits. Not because you want to polish your wand with a nice girl (hell yeah, Pads -Prongs), but because it's worth it to keep it happy.
That being said, now I shall share my deep, most deeply guarded secret. My one, my only, favorite spell for getting back in subtle ways. I made this because Kathryn Murcan was being a right bitch, but it's ungentlemanly to hex a pretty girl when her back was turned. So, after one particular comment that hit me below the belt, I gave her this particular nice gift.
With your wand in your dominant hand, curl your fingers tightly around the base (not in normal position) and move your wand in a tight clockwise circular fashion. When holding your wand, keep it closer to your body. Holding it more at the base allows you to let the tip of the wand extend more into your circle while keeping the base in a tighter one. Once you complete the circular motion, flick it sharply to the right and point at your victim. Say the words, "tarda sternumenta." Pronounced Tarr-da (roll the r), Ster-nue-men-ta.
And that, my friend, is the spell for causing somebody to feel like they are about to sneeze for about six hours. Depending on how much magic you put into it. The best part is that they won't be able to sneeze once, the entire time.
-Padfoot (written by Moony, because bless that bastard for having the prettiest (and legible) handwriting.)
Excerpt from the Marauders Componium]
The first thing Harriet did after her relatives kicked her out of their car, was to go change in the nearest bathroom. Her new clothing for the past month had been calling to her. And she could still vividly recall how the fabric had shaped itself into her size. She had never liked wearing Dudley's clothes. They were too big and baggy, and Harriet hated wearing his cast offs. Anything that had to do with her cousin instantly repelled her. And to finally be able to wear something that was hers for once was too exciting to pass off.
It was refreshing to wear a skirt that brushed her knees. The stocking hugged her legs. The shirt fit her body perfectly. Harriet decided to forgo the outer robe, leaving it in her trunk. The rest of Dudley's old clothes went into the bin, as Harriet couldn't stand the sight of them. And in a public bathroom at Kings Cross Station, Harriet gazed into the mirror and saw herself. She was small, and a bit pale. Perhaps a little too skinny. But Harriet finally saw herself as who she was. Harriet Lily Potter-Black. There were no more evil relatives. No more terror at being beaten to a pulp for forgetting something. No more starving and craving for food. It was all going to change.
Harriet was going to learn magic. And she was going to do it fantastically.
Energized, Harriet grabbed her items and left. Her head held high. Although it faltered once she hit the more crowded areas of the station. Anxiety, a familiar feeling, caught her in it's hold. But Harriet was determined that she wasn't going to be affected by it as much. She wouldn't. Not this time. Although it crept through the cracks and sank into her chest, Harriet pushed forwards. She had a goal in mind, and Harriet let that be her focus.
The pillar between the ninth and tenth station platform. Harriet had long since dreamed and imagined coming to Kings Cross since she had first read her mum's journal. Walk into a wall. Bam! Magical world. Harriet had read her mum's journals enough times to know what to do. But still, the worry gnawed at her. It was hard to not be worried, really. The letter said nothing about the platform, it just included the ticket. Harriet's thoughts plagued her. What if the train to Hogwarts had changed since then? What if she's at the wrong Kings Cross? What if she couldn't get through the barrier?
Soon Harriet faced her fears. The pillar between platform nine and ten was in front of her. She paused, her trolly holding her luggage behind her squeaking sharply by the sudden movement. Harriet stared at the wall with a blank face. Then she raised her hand and touched the brick… and her hand went through it. She smiled, relief flooding her features.
This was it. Hogwarts was right here.
And she was ready for it.
Harriet took confident steps forward and disappeared from the muggle world.
The King Cross Station was barren of people. Harriet gazed around silently, looking across the empty square. The most eye-catching thing in the area was the locomotive. The train itself was gorgeous. Red and shiny, Harriet couldn't imagine ever being on such a machine. It was prettier than Uncle Vernon's prized car. She dragged her trolly behind her across the uneven cobblestones towards the train. It was perfect.
The reason why the place was so empty of people was perhaps Harriet had arrived a little bit early. Like, two hours early. She figured that it would be good to come early rather than have a chance of being late. So she had lied when Aunt Petunia asked her what time her train was leaving. If Harriet had told her the truth then she would have gotten on the train with ten minutes to spare before it left. The Dursleys were punctual except when it came to Harriet. Otherwise, they didn't care to be on time. And besides, Harriet didn't mind coming early. It meant that she could get away from her relatives all the sooner.
Harriet managed to discover on her own where the luggage car was and left her trunk in there. Her mum's trunk was hidden in her pocket. Her mum had written that if you tapped on it with a wand it would shrink. Harriet had never been able to do it before. And now it was no larger than a matchbox. Hedwig preferred it in there too, rather than being in her clunky trunk. And Harriet favored knowing where Hedwig was at all times. She was scared of losing her toad.
The train was amazing. Harriet walked down the hallway, peering into different cars that were empty and moving on. She didn't want to sit in the back, but she definitely didn't want to sit in the front. And so Harriet found a nice cabin that was half the size of the others, probably because it was shoved next to the loo, and decided that it would be her car.
And if it just so happened to be on the other side of the train that just so happened to be away from the people getting on it in the near future, Harriet wasn't about to complain either. In fact, she'd rather not see parents sending their kids off to school. Not after- not after meeting her own parents. She didn't want to see all the mushy goodbyes or the tears. Nope! Nothing else!
Harriet quickly pulled out the potions book that was on her school list, 'Magical Drafts and Potions,' by Arsenius Jigger, along with a red pen. Ever since she had opened the damned book she had been absolutely appalled by the contents therein. Everything that she had self-taught herself repelled by the lousy information in this book. The first night Harriet stayed up to read this book, she had actually gone to bed within the first hour because of how frustrating and disappointing it was. And so, in order to ease her nerves, Harriet began to write in it. It was cathartic. Relieving, she supposed. She was distracting herself from any worries by the innate fury that compelled her to cross out entire pages worth of text and to write why it was all wrong.
'As compelling as this is,' Harriet wrote, 'please do not put any porcupine needles near a flame. Adding heat causes the needles to release a dangerous toxin in the shells that could cause fire-cracker like explosions in a boiling pot. The fact that it is written two sentences after the instructions say to add the needles to extinguish the flame before combining them is of no sense. And why on earth is dittany in this potion? Dittany is for gardening fertilizer? Fuck that, add mint. 1-2 leaves finely chopped and crushed should stabilize the potion and take place of the dittany. Although if it goes a yellow hue, add lemon balm. It should regain it's natural color while giving it a bit of oomph. This forgetful potion would be almost killer.'
Harriet flipped a page. She read the small paragraph. Narrowed her eyes. And began to cross things out in a satisfying way. Why on earth anybody would not put wolfsbane, monkshood, and aconite together? They were the same plant. They just had different names. What kind of backward bullshit was this? Harriet pursed her lips disapprovingly (scarily looking like Aunt Petunia) and grew absorbed into her work.
She was just ranting why people shouldn't put bezoar on the fifty-sixth page of a book, that information should be on the first page (why not put the antidote for poisons in a beginners in an obvious spot in a book of potions when clearly people are going to mess up) when a sudden noise drew her attention from her writing. Now that she noticed it, she could hear people talking and could hear people moving from cabin to cabin. She had been so focused that she hadn't even realized how much time had passed. In fact, she had been so caught up in her writing that she had failed to notice what sounded like the entirety of London appearing. Laughter echoed down the hallway, even though the door to the cabin was closed. Harriet could see people passing by and desperately wished that nobody would come into her compartment. Just the thought of it started to rise up in her and Harriet felt almost nauseous from the anxiety. Trying to keep her mind distracted Harriet turned back to her book.
Glancing down, Harriet noted that she had maybe gotten through a third of the book. She flipped through the pages idly, waiting for the moment that the train would start up and they could leave. It seemed to be taking forever now, although it felt maybe five minutes had passed since she noticed people around her. She flipped through pages lined in red, not even pausing to glance at whole pages crossed out. Harriet didn't understand a lot of things, but the one thing that puzzled her out of all was why did they teach kids the wrong stuff? She had learned from her mum's old books, obviously, they were meant for older students as she worked through them. They taught all the stuff that worked, Harriet didn't have a problem with making potions when she knew all the rules. Why wouldn't they want to teach kids that lowering a flame would be dangerous without stirring it three times counterclockwise? Or how to cut ingredients properly? If it wasn't through Harriet's experimenting when she was younger, she wouldn't have known the difference between slicing and chopping. And yet there was no such instruction about that in this beginners book. Would they be learning that in class?
Harriet closed the book with a snap when the door to the compartment opened. She jumped and glanced up with wide eyes. Fear, although Harriet didn't know why she was so scared, jumped up to her throat and her heart began to beat a million kilometers a second.
"Oh, look. Somebody is already here." An older girl with long dark brown hair said. She was wearing her Hogwarts uniform, the girl's outfit was lined in red and gold. It was just like the clothes that her mum had in her trunk. "I knew we should have gotten here sooner, but you had to show off your spider." She gave the boy next to her a sharp look.
"It's a tarantula, not just some spider." The dark haired boy pouted and lifted up a cage that swung around. Harriet caught a glimpse of something big and hairy inside before the girl grabbed the boys arm and hauled him out of the compartment.
"Sorry, we disturbed you." The girl said, acknowledging Harriet for the first time. "Come on Lee! We have to go score a bigger cabin, and we can't wait all day for your giant ego to move."
"Angelina!" Was the last thing Harriet heard before the door was promptly closed and she was alone again.
Harriet sat in silence, processing on what just happened. It was all so sudden and fast Harriet didn't have any time to think. Or even to respond. The two older students, whatever their names were, had come and gone without a care in the world. And they had been so loud! Not quite as loud as Hagrid had been, but it still made her feel deeply uncomfortable. Harriet wasn't sure if she liked their… brash attitudes. There wasn't something that she could pinpoint and could say why she didn't like it. But it left her feeling overwhelmingly tired and she felt a longing for her cupboard back in Privet Drive.
She curled up on the seat and pressed herself in the corner. Her book laid on her lap, but Harriet couldn't will herself to look at it again. The constant worry of somebody else coming in the compartment bothered her. She just wanted to curl up in a ball somewhere nice and dark. Even that small encounter of the older students made Harriet so unbelievably tired and drained that she wanted to take a nap.
But in the end, Harriet's worst fear comes to light. The door to the compartment opened once more, and a girl about her age walked in. Another first year.
"Is this compartment taken?" She asked, her bushy hair flying everywhere.
Harriet's mouth went dry and she shook her head.
"Oh good." The girl said tossing her bag on the other seat. "I'm Hermione Granger. It's a pleasure to meet you." She held out a hand.
Harriet felt her palms grow moist. Nervously she wiped them on her new skirt before taking the hand. It was the first time she had ever shaken somebody else's hand before. She hoped she was doing it right. At first, it seemed right, but then the girl wouldn't let Harriet take her hand back. As seconds past, Harriet was unsure of what she was doing wrong and panic lit up inside of her.
"You know, it's rude not to tell me your name." The girl, Hermione said bluntly.
Oh. Oh. Shit. Harriet licked her lips and tried to speak. The first thing was more like a hiss than the word, so Harriet tried again. Her throat was so dry that Harriet wondered if she could speak properly again. "H-H-Ha-Harriet Potter."
"It's nice to meet you, Harriet," Hermione spoke. But she still didn't let go of the most uncomfortable handshake that Harriet had ever been a part of. "You know, you have to say it's nice to meet me too."
"It's n-nice to mu-meet you," Harriet mumbled, her face flushing. And finally, finally, the handshake was done. But the embarrassment flooded through her. How was she to know whether or not she had been rude, and that introductions were necessary? But she had messed up. Harriet felt so awkward. Clearly, she didn't know anything about being polite. How was she to know that there were rules? Were there books that she could read?
Hermione sat on her seat. She looked very excited. "Are you excited about going to Hogwarts?" She asked, "I was so happy when I got my letter. I'm the first witch in my family! You see, my mum and dad always knew that strange things kept on happening around me, and it was such a relief to find out what was going on. One time I almost-"
Miserably, Harriet suddenly realized that Hermione liked to talk.
And talk she did. Hermione nattered on, unaware of Harriet's rising uncomfort. It was almost abrasive. The way that she constantly talked on and on about. Harriet found that there was no need for her to speak at all. Hermione wouldn't have let Harriet get a word in edgewise at all. It was almost amazing how long the bushy-haired girl could speak without taking a breath. Harriet idly wondered if she was part lungfish. Or if she had a separate sac of air that she could draw upon when describing how to brush teeth. And Hermione pushed on. Chatting about all the books that she had read (which was all of them) and how she loved magic (she loved all of it) and how she was going to learn so much and be the best witch ever and how she was going to do this and that and-
Harriet was distressed. The train had started long ago, and their destination was fast approaching. But it wasn't coming fast enough. Harriet couldn't handle the constant words. The endless information. It was simply too much. An overload of sensations crawled up inside of her and made her feel bloated. At one point Harriet was sure that she couldn't breathe. It was so draining, so frustrating, so annoying that the girl wouldn't just stop talking.
Harriet was just about ready to jump off the train. There had to be something to shut this girl up. Or to get her away from Harriet. And she was stumped, willing to suffer through the noise for the rest of the trip... Until an idea came to her. A terrible, no good, horrible, awful idea.
Harriet shifted her weight. Casually putting her hands in her pockets and then pulling them out. She glanced around the room, patting her pockets from the outside once more. Then Harriet leaned to the side as if to be looking underneath the opposite seats. Then shifted to the other side to look at it from a different angle.
"and I was thinking to myself that the math was wrong- what are you doing?" Hermione asked, cutting her tirade off.
Harriet didn't answer. Instead, she got off her seat and then peered underneath it. Then she moved her bag and then let out a rather dramatic sigh.
"L-lost." Harriet looked back at Hermione with wide eyes. "I've l-lost my toad."
Hermione let loose a sharp gasp. "Oh no! Your toad is gone?"
Harriet nodded, unwilling to speak any more.
"That's just terrible! We have to find it." Hermione jumped to her feet. "I can go start looking around and I'll ask if people have seen it. My Dad always says that if we lost something we should go and trace our steps. But your toad has probably moved from where you last have seen it. So we should split up! I'll go down the train and you'll go up, right?"
Harriet nodded. And without any further urging, no other plots or pushes, the bushy-haired girl left the cabin. Hermione had… taken her up on her bait and completely left of her own accord.
That was surprisingly easy. Almost too easy. But Harriet figured that although the girl was smart, she was dumber than a bag of bricks when it came to putting her trust in everybody. Harriet was sure she'd be, what Dudley would say, a total kiss up. However, Harriet finally had her first moments of silence. And she hoped that Hermione would get distracted and stay away for the rest of the train ride. But until then, Harriet just wanted silence. And it was beautiful not to listen to anybody.
She finally relaxed into the seat and gazed out the window. The train rocked slowly as it chugged along. And Harriet closed her eyes in peace.
Hagrid was a good man to greet the first years. Harriet liked the fact that he was so tall and easily recognizable. He stood out from the other students who swarmed the platform as they exited. Harriet was short, much shorter than all the other students. And so it was great for her to be able to find Hagrid so easily. Somebody out there must've thought this through.
There was a large gathering of kids around him. All of them weren't wearing any other colors than black, so Harriet assumed they were her fellow classmates. She cautiously gazed around them. Hermione was chatting away with some boy, and the rest of them seem to be gathered by groups of two or three. Harriet stood by the others in a crowd, not necessarily around anybody specific.
Hagrid led them to a set of boats that bobbed up and down on the water. Harriet climbed into one and a few other kids joined her. Harriet didn't know who they were. But none of them introduced themselves and so Harriet did the same. Harriet waited as the other kids hopped into the boats and Hagrid was in one of his own. She was so impatient! She wanted to be there forever ago. It took some time but in the end, but the boats began to move by some unseen power. It startled her. But Harriet let out a startled laugh in delight. Of course, it was magic!
It was dark. The water was black. The sky was inky, speckled with stars above. Harriet craned her neck up, staring up at the blinking lights above. It was so pretty. Harriet had heard that there were lots of stars up there. But she had never been able to see so many before! Not when she had snuck out in Privet Drive. But the stars were so bright. So white. And there were countless. Harriet was struck with a sense of awe as she gazed upwards.
And the boats turned the corner. And a white castle appeared, shining in the darkness.
It stole her breath away. She had never seen such beauty before. Alone, surrounded by the darkness, Harriet felt small. Insignificant. And yet. Harriet felt emotion fill up inside of her. It pushed past the anxiety and the constant worry. It eased her stress. She didn't know what she was feeling. It was so strange. But it was pleasant and wonderful to feel. It made her heart warm and beat so fast. Harriet liked feeling that. Hogwarts was the most beautiful thing that Harriet had ever seen in her entire life. As the other children 'oohed' and 'awed' over the sight of the castle. But they didn't see what Harriet saw. Which was perfection.
Harriet felt the warm tears sting her eyes. She pulled her sleeves down and wiped her face hurriedly. She hoped that nobody saw. The other boys in the boat didn't see, they were all turned around to face the castle. Hogwarts. Everybody had their eyes on the school. Some boys were chatting loudly about how amazing school would be. Over the water, Harriet could even hear Hermione's voice talking loudly about the history of the castle. Harriet ignored it, silently turning her gaze back towards the castle that lit up the sky.
The boats arrived at the shore too soon. Harriet would have liked to float on the darkness a little bit longer. It had been so peaceful and the filling emotion remained inside of her. It felt like as the ride ended that she had to return back to the world. And she didn't want that. It was too sudden and she longed to return to the lake.
"Alright! Come on firsties!" Hagrid called out in his booming voices. Harriet was the last off the boats due to her reluctance. She hurried after the group of kids, catching up just as Hagrid knocked on the giant doors with a big fist. The doors opened and a stern woman appeared. She peered over the children, and the door swung open.
"Thank you, Hagrid. The rest of you, come in." She turned without a glance back and stepped into the castle.
She reminded Harriet of Aunt Petunia. The way that she looked down at them with her nose in the air and her quick dismissal of them. That, and the woman was tall and skinny as her aunt as well. Harriet felt that uplifting emotion dampen a touch, but she pushed against it. Surely this woman couldn't be as bad as Aunt Petunia. Not many people could be. And she probably had more important things to do than watch them walk into Hogwarts.
The small mob of children followed the lady. Hagrid waved at Harriet as she passed by and she shyly returned the favor. He gave her a grin as she turned away, and Harriet walked into Hogwarts for the first time. It was enchanting. Harriet could feel the magic in the air tickle at her skin. It hummed in her ears, and everywhere she could Harriet could see things that would make Aunt Petunia faint. It was wonderful! It was just as amazing as her mum described in her journal! Pictures moved on the walls, but they hopped from one frame to the other. Ghosts floated through the walls, causing a few girls to scream and then fall into giggles. A few boys might have jumped, but Harriet didn't comment on it. She just smiled to herself as she turned her head this way and that to make sure she got a good look at everything. Harriet didn't want to miss anything.
Finally, the woman led them to a room. She turned and gave them a level look. "I am Professor McGonagall. Please line up in rows of two while I go check to see if they are ready for the sorting yet." And she then she left.
Harriet was quick to get into a line. One boy, a few people ahead of her, whispered loudly, "my brothers told me that the sorting is fighting a troll."
"I hope not." A boy with dark hair next to him said.
"I highly doubt it." Harriet glanced to see that Hermione joined the conversation. "It doesn't say anything about trolls in 'Hogwarts: A History.'"
The red-haired boy gave an ugly face at Hermione. "Well-"
Then Professor McGonagall came back. It had barely been a minute since she had left. In her hand, she held a roll of parchment and she peered down at all of them. "Follow me." Was all she said before sweeping away. The two lines of students followed her, hushed whispers and giggles filling the air. Two giant doors opened, and Harriet nearly stumbled when she saw all the people in the room.
And they were looking at her.
That good feeling was gone now. Harriet's mouth went dry and her palms went sweaty. She luckily kept up with the person in front of her. It was a small comfort to know that she wasn't the only person standing up. But it was still terrifying to see all the eyes were on her.
Professor McGonagall walked up and stood next to a hat on a stool. Harriet watched as it moved sluggishly, and then a hat began to speak. Which was admittedly very cool. Harriet stared at the hat as began to sing a song, and wondered… was it a spell or a potion that made it the way it was? Harriet had read about how some potions could give some items characteristics that made them look intelligent. However, when she was looking through her father's book she had read that charms could do almost the same thing. Harriet wanted to know. If it was a potion, could she make a hat too? She could wear it and it could keep an eye out for Dudley and his goons. They liked to creep up on her. But if she had a lookout she could get away faster without them being able to catch her easily.
The hall began to clap. Harriet snapped out of her thoughts and glanced around. Nobody seemed to notice her attention was elsewhere. Which was good. It would be embarrassing not to pay attention to any sort of entertainment that they offered. And a talking hat was a very magical way of welcoming any new students into the school. Harriet politely clapped, but if anybody asked her she wouldn't be able to give any details about what the hat had talked about.
Then Professor McGonagall unrolled her parchment and called out the first name on the list. "Abbot, Hannah" Harriet watched a girl with blonde hair stepped up and Professor McGonagall placed the talking hat on her head. Within seconds, the hat yelled, "Hufflepuff!"
The girl, Hannah, skipped her way over to the table that was decorated with yellow and black. The table clapped, and Hannah was welcomed in their fold. Harriet now gazed the room as the next name was called. There were four long tables. The table that caught Harriet's eye was the golden and red one. That was the house her mum and dad had been in. They seemed like a friendly bunch. If anything, Harriet wanted to go there. Because then she'd be more like her parents. Her mum and dad would be proud of her by going to the same house. She'd be sure of it.
Next to the red and golden table was blue and silver. As Harriet looked down the table, she noticed a lot of students, male and female, bent over a book hidden under the edge of the table. Some of them stared off into the distance, while others clapped lazily. They looked like Dudley when he had to do maths in their class. Bored. They didn't seem very inviting. But Harriet could chalk it up as them being tired.
The next table was the yellow and black one. They were clapping once more as yet another girl walked to their table. Bones… something. Harriet didn't catch her first name. She sat next to Hannah and the two embraced while chatting excitedly. Harriet pondered about this table, whatever it was called. Vaguely Harriet figured that the houses had something to do with traits and whatnot. But Harriet couldn't figure out this one. Compared to the other tables, Harriet noted, this one had the least students. But they all seem happy and cheerful. So maybe they just had a lot of tea recently to perk them up.
The last table… Harriet was starting to obverse it when a boy caught her eye and gave her a sneer. It was a nasty look. And Harriet hastily glanced away, flushing. After that, Harriet didn't dare look over at the table.
One after the other, the other kids were called up. Harriet waited, dreading for the moment that her name would be called. To imagine all of the people in the hall staring at her made her head feel light. It was alright if there were others around her, but walking up there by herself might be too much for Harriet. But it was coming. As Professor McGonagall slowly went down the alphabet, Harriet felt her palms begin to sweat. Then a horrid thought struck her. What if… what if they didn't call her name!? What if she was left the only one standing up in the hallway and it turned out that Harriet wasn't registered for school at all. What if she didn't belong here? What if-
Too caught up with her troubled thoughts, Harriet barely noticed when the name Neville Longbottom was called. The hall grew quiet instantly. Eyes turned as the boy standing next to the red-headed boy walked forwards. If Harriet had been watching, she could have said he looked like a boy. He had messy brown hair and a small gap between his teeth. He didn't look like anything but a simple boy who perhaps didn't have the best clothes to wear. If somebody had told Harriet that he was the Savior of the Wizarding World, she might have scoffed and dismissed that a plain looking boy could do a thing like that. But Harriet didn't pay attention one bit. Instead, Neville nervously walked up to the hat. And after quite a long time ("You could go to Slytherin, you know") , the hat shouted, "Gryffindor!"
Neville was received with an explosion of applause and was quickly drawn into the Gryffindor house. Perhaps a certain set of twins sang out in glee that the Boy-Who-Lived was a Gryffindor. But soon enough, the rest of the sorting had to take place. And Harriet's thoughts were crawling her deeper into self-imagined despair. Such a tremendous moment in history that Harriet had failed to notice was over with. And once again, one by one, the children were called up and sorted into the different Houses.
"Potter, Harriet." Professor McGonagall announced. Startling Harriet out of her thoughts. There was a brief moment of relief. Harriet did belong in Hogwarts. But then the crushing sense of anxiety hit her at once. Harriet had to go up now. Her hands trembled and she forced herself to move. She had to do this. But it was the most terrifying thing that she had ever done in her life.
Every eye was watching her. She could feel them burning into her back. Harriet clutched at her robe with her hands, hoping that it would disguise the trembling that took place. She could feel herself sweating. Every step felt like she could be doing something wrong. And she'd embarrass herself unknowingly. Her head bent down and she stared at the floor. Harriet didn't dare look up.
After what felt like months, Harriet finally found herself at the stool. She sat down, facing the crowd. Oh. It was worse like this. Now Harriet could see them all looking at her. She began to feel her face flushing. And then she felt the weight of the hat being dropped on her head, and it fell past her ears and covered her eyes.
"My my my. What do we have here?" A strange voice whispered in her ear. Harried flinched at the noise. It startled her. "Oh, don't be scared. I know a talking hat isn't very common these days. But let's get down to business. I don't have all day you know."
Oh. Right, uh. Harriet wasn't the last person to get judged. This should be rather quick though. She'd like the red house, out of the others it seemed to be the best. All the hat needed to do was just yell it out and he could get to the next kid.
"I wouldn't go that fast." The voice replied. Harriet felt another wave of surprise hit her. It can read her thoughts!? Amazing. "Yes, I can read thoughts. I am the Sorting Hat. And taking a good look at you, Gryffindor is the last place that I would put you."
...Gryffindor?
There was a long sigh. "The red house."
Oh. Harriet furrowed her brow. Why couldn't she get into her parent's house? Surely, there wasn't a reason not to.
"You didn't listen to my song did you." The hat asked. Harriet adverted her eyes underneath in the dark. Shame crept up her spine. If somebody had told her the hat could read her mind then she would have paid more attention to the song. "Of course you did. Every single year this happens. I spend all year composing a new song for the next batch of students and without fail, there is always one who never pays any attention."
Harriet wanted to cover her face in her hands in embarrassment. "No matter. I shall give you a brief summary. Gryffindor is considered the house of the brave. Considering walking up to the stool caused you to nearly soil yourself, I will say that going to Gryffindor will not be in your best interests. In fact, I think they would eat you alive without any hesitation."
But- but that was the house that Harriet wanted to get into! It was her parents-
"It doesn't matter what your parents were sorted into. You are you, and you should remember that, Harriet Potter-Black. You are not your parents. You do not have to redeem yourself in their eyes." The hat spoke bluntly. "I once looked into their heads. Once when they first arrived here in Hogwarts, and another when they were leaving. Believe me when I say that they would not care a single bit if you were sorted into another house."
Harriet… didn't know what to think of that.
"Now. That is done and over with. I had that same talk with your godfather. It didn't get into his head fast enough before I sorted him. Although it was more on the lines of forgetting what his parents thought and to go where he wanted to be. But I believe it is time that we finally get to the topic at hand." The hat spoke idly. "I believe you have the best quality of traits to be placed in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. "
Harriet drew another blank.
"Ravenclaw is the house of intelligence. They are the blue table that you saw. Slytherin is for the ambitious and cunning." The hat sighed in disappointment. "They are the green house."
Harriet wrinkled her nose at the thought of either their houses. If Ravenclaw was full of smart people. Like Hermione. Harriet's mouth curled into a grimace at the thought of being around all the know-it-alls. She didn't like that thought at all. Just imagining being around other Hermione-like people was awful. And when she thought about Slytherin, Harriet didn't like that either. It was too scary! They seemed posh and Harriet didn't like that at all. They reminded her too much of Dudley.
"You… are so picky." The hat replied. "Ravenclaw is a nice house. Yes, they are smart but so are you. You've taught yourself so much about potions it's a wonder I haven't gotten a headache from it all yet. And you are ambitious. And very sneaky. I know you glued all the car doors to your uncle's car before you left, you tricky girl. You can excel in either these houses to and be the very best student that you can be. Which shall it be?"
Harriet frowned. She thought she answered the hat already. She didn't like the smart people, and Slytherin looked like they could gut her if she looked at them wrong. And if the hat had a problem with that, he could put her in Gryffindor.
"I thought- oh come on. We already went through this. Seriously? Fine. Okay. Let's start at the beginning. I have a question for you, Harriet. What do you want the most out of Hogwarts?"
What did she want from Hogwarts? The first thing that came to mind was being on the lake. She thought of the castle. The memory fresh and vivid in her thoughts, Harriet could easily imagine the white stone of the castle shining against the dark. She could recall the night air against her face as she stared up at the beauty of Hogwarts, and the enchanting feeling returned to her. The light and airy feeling… of happiness. Hogwarts was the place that she had never had before. Because, to Harriet, it was…
"Home," Harriet whispered very, very quietly.
"Merlin you were more stubborn than… Merlin himself. I hope you know. But that means that you are going to HUFFLEPUFF!"
The last word was shouted. Harriet was startled that she jumped into the air. As quick as it had come, the hat was yanked off her head. Harriet blinked at the sudden bright light, staring out over the sea of faces. The yellow and black table clapped loudly, and Harriet was gently pushed off the stool and towards the table.
Confusion welled up inside of Harriet. She… wasn't sure what just happened. The hat didn't tell her anything about Hufflepuff. But she finally had a destination on where she was going, and Harriet was glad to finally sit down. The relief on not being the center of attention eased the strain inside of her. And so when Harriet finally sat down at the yellow and black table, one of the other boys who had been sorted before her turned and asked her a question.
"What took you so long? You were under the hat for over ten minutes! I think you broke the record."
All Harriet could do was helplessly shrug. After all, she had no clue why it happened either. Or why she was in Hufflepuff. But as the rest of the sorting continued, Harriet stared at the table in front of her. Why was she here? Why couldn't she have just gone to Gryffindor? She could be… brave or something akin to that. Maybe she could have more courage when she grew up. Harriet hoped that when everything else settled, that getting placed into Hufflepuff wasn't a mistake. Because right now, sitting next to strangers and feeling alone, Harriet felt like it was.
(This day brought numerous possibilities. Out of the four houses, Harriet could have been sorted into any of them. Out of the billions of universes that she had created by her choices, Harriet was placed into every house. Although, to be quiet honest the odds of her going into the different houses differed. It also depended on what choices and actions those Harriet's had partaken in. (For the more bitter Harriets, nearly all of them went into Slytherin. A small percentage were placed in Ravenclaw. As for the Harriets, like the one in our story, who have not become spiteful, their odds of being in the other houses were more likely.) All in all, over 48% of Harriets was placed in Gryffindor. In the second place, Ravenclaw was 25%. Thirdly, Slytherin was around 15.5%. And lastly, Hufflepuff was a solid 11.5%.
We must remind you, readers. That a majority of the Harriets out there do not know of the manipulations of that old fart. Nor did they know anything of the magical community before Hagrid came to see them. And so quite a lot of them followed his manipulative plan.
But we still must ask this question. Why were these odds so vastly mismatched? Well, we could look back at the source of this problem. Well, sources. It could have been how Harriet had been treated. If she hadn't been so blatantly abused by her relatives. If she hadn't been left to the muggles in the first place. If she hadn't been forced from the wizarding world. If Albus Dumbledore didn't try to take her fortune. If… perhaps the Sorting Hat wasn't manipulated by the constant years underneath the many Headmasters of Hogwarts.
You see, that old strange hat has a somewhat long history. From the beginning, the hat once belonged to some old man named Godric Gryffindor. Now when the hat first started out, Godric was not too gentle with it. It was already beaten and worn by the time magic was embedded into it. And so when it came time to enchant something, Godric (being the forgetful man that he was), simply took off his hat and said that it ought to do.
(Most mortals could wax on about how powerful and impressive the founding creators of Hogwarts were. After all, they had done what no witch nor wizard had done before. They created a school. Wow. So original. As higher beings of power, we don't particularly care for them. To be quite honest, they were all blithering idiots. As much as people would like to praise the four founders, they were not as smart as people led them to believe. In fact, the only thing that was vaguely intelligent was where they placed Hogwarts. In fact, a majority of the incredible feats of magic that were accredited towards the founders was simply because of this one choice.
They placed Hogwarts on a ley line intersection.
Ley lines are a simple key to magic. It doesn't take an idiot with a hat to figure out that a certain area just so happens to be more magical than another. In fact, objects that are on or near ley lines tend to soak up the magic until it becomes something unexplainable. That is how, over the last few thousand years, that Hogwarts started to become a sentient being. Of course, not quite as intelligent as a castle ought to be, Hogwarts was a living breathing being. She had her own magic. It spread across the school grounds, across the forest, and deep into the lake. The intersection was a powerful place. There were only a few true magical ley lines across the entire world. (Disney Land is one of them. A magical place indeed.) And Hogwarts was enriched with powerful magic that enveloped all of the area surrounding it.
However, we are getting a little off topic here.)
That hat went through a lot of trials. Years and years, from its beginning enchantment to where it ended up on Harriet's head, it saw a lot. It saw the rise and fall of fifteen dark lords, through several instances where it had been sat upon, and peered through what felt like a billion children's minds. It saw the inside of Nicholas Flamel's head. It saw Merlin and sorted the prat after a good half hour arguing with him as to why he couldn't just make a new house up. All the big names, all of the small ones that were lost in time, it sat upon the heads of many. And like the many older objects on Hogwarts grounds, it began to form a bit of a personality.
The Hat, as it didn't have a name, found himself liking certain things. And disliking many others. For instance, he despised having to sit in the Headmasters Office on a shelf for an entire year. The only thing vaguely entertaining was watching the portraits of past headmasters start to argue. Which was nice and all, until the Hat remembered that he had seen some of these men do rather odd and dubious things in their offices. Then it was a little revolting. He disliked the smell of lemons, which seemed to be the bane of his existence when Albus Dumbledore loved lemon drops. And for a long time, it also didn't like dust. Dust was rather annoying when you had to speak and suddenly felt a sneeze coming on. Nowadays, he has started a small competition in its mind to see how much dust it could gather over time. The record was a solid inch and a half.
However, on the flip side, the Hat loved doing his job. It was wonderful. Children's minds were so open, so pure. And innocent. Occasionally he would find a poor child who wasn't so open and nice. Those kids had seen what horrors that life could bring. And for a very long time, it was also the Hat's job to inform the headmaster of which child needed to be moved to a different family. Or to a distant relatives home.
Those days ended when Albus Dumbledore entered the picture.
The Hat could easily say that he did not like this particular headmaster. He was lousy at his job. There used to be the halls bursting with children and classes every fifteen minutes. Now there were limited courses and biased teachers everywhere. Gone were the days of opening encouraging children to do their best. Everything felt stagnant here. Hell, there was a curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher that Albus had yet to get rid of. The Hat did not like how Hogwarts had fallen. But the castle was sleeping. And until Albus died, the Hat could do very little in the ways of the castle.
But it changed, just a touch when the Hat sat on Harriet Potter-Black's head. Looking into her mind was awful. But such a treat. There wasn't very much time for him to speak with the young child. Looking through her head, he could easily see the enchantments pulling at her, the manipulations that were already pushing her to do Albus' plan. And the hat very well couldn't do that, now could he?
Gryffindor was out. That much was certain. And it wasn't very difficult to discard that plan, Harriet clearly wasn't suited much for the hero business. The Hat did feel a bit sorry that she wasn't going to be in the favorite house, the most easily biased and stubborn headed house in Hogwarts. If she had gone there, she would have been treated easily. Anything she did would have been overlooked. The punishments wouldn't have been as harsh.
However, the Hat could figure out that it would be better if she had a little bit more struggle in her life. Looking into her past, he could see every time that she had overcome her strife. Her passion to do well and to achieve her goals was admirable. Especially for an eleven-year-old child. The things that she had to do was awful. The Hat wished he could speak about the abuse and terror this child had dealt with. If she had been placed in the Magical Community, Harriet would have been treated as a prodigy.
And so the Hat offered her two options. Ravenclaw, where she could learn and be pushed to be the most knowledgeable. Or Slytherin, where her ambitions would pull her into being the youngest certified potioneer in history.
But instead, the Hat was pleasantly surprised to find himself considering the final option. The conversation between the two of them was too long to fully speak to her about it. And the Hat knew he was going to be quizzed on it later by the Headmaster. But the answer to the question he asked was the most honest one that Harriet had said. It pushed past the compulsions placed on her, past the desires to be more like her parents, until Harriet herself had shone through.
And so without further adieu, the hat promptly placed a snake with a pack of innocent lambs. Yes, the Hat knew exactly what was going to happen with this. Harriet was a strong girl. She would only allow so much pain to happen before she began to fight back. It would be a difficult life for her since she was going up against a clever old man with a reputation too big for his head. But the Hat figured that it would be a turn of brilliance to put her where nobody would look twice.
The Hat sighed and remembered fondly back where Hufflepuff was once known to be a bloodthirsty group. Honestly, Helga was a nightmare to go up against. Harriet reminded him of her. The woman of a time gone past who was oh, so clever, and knew a potion or two that would straighten anybody up. Sometimes Hegla had more courage than Godric. When it came to Salazar having a tantrum she was the first to straighten the bastard up.
And so when the Hat was placed back on his shelf for another year, he wondered what the repercussions of his choice were. What kind of impacts Harriet Potter-Black would have. And most importantly hoped he could have a front seat row to the show.)
(The Entity and General Narrator rubbed their eyes. Then blinked at the screen, their eyes hurt because of the bright light. But thankfully they only had a few more minutes to the end of their shift. Their hands came up, pressing up against their eyes and took in a deep breath. It had been a nightmare day. And they just wanted to go home.
Who knew that blenders could cause that much chaos when it was put into a sink full of hot lava? The Entity could feel a section of their hair was still brittle and slightly singed still. The faint smell of electricity and burnt plastic filled the air. Somebody had tried to frebreze the smell, but the strong smell of oranges and ectoplasm did little to cover up the stench. It only added to the Entities headache.
When they finally looked back up, it was finally time to go home. Mumbling thanks to forgotten gods in languages unknown, the Entity quickly shut their computer down and grabbed their bag. Flicking off the light, the Entity left their desk. It was the middle of the night, the third one in a row, and so there weren't many other coworkers around.
The clock ticked on. Time did it's funky thing where it went three seconds forwards and two backward and then four seconds sideways. But it made sense to the various creatures that ran in the offices. An office plant curled around a stapler and stole it, tucking it underneath its piles of leaves. Perhaps a mysterious slime oozed out of a drawer that was labeled 'Old Supervisors.' A janitor lazily came by at one point and mopped it up, unhearing to the moans the slime gave off as the janitor had a pair of headphones in.
The office was still. Whatever entities were left have long since left the area to go home. It was quiet and peaceful. A rare thing to see in the Harry Potter department.
But it wasn't going to last.
A woman stepped from behind a curtain. Why there was certain in an office without any windows, the woman couldn't tell you. However, it is to note that this woman was an unusual being that had ever graced these halls. She wasn't a harpy, sphinx, or demonic monster that consumed the souls of the innocents. She didn't have four eyes, horns, or sixteen fingers. She wasn't a shadow or a ghost from another realm. No, the woman was an ordinary, regular human. And that in of itself was rather odd.
She had a plain face, one that didn't speak of beauty. Her age outlined her cheekbones and the darkness that laid in her eyes spoke of her history. To some people, they would have said she was perhaps a normal woman who was in dire need of some sleep. They were right. The woman did need a nap. However, she had other important things to do.
Clad in all black leather, the woman stretched. "Ugh, I would have thought the blender explosion would have made them leave faster." She mumbled to herself. Her voice was deep and gravely as if she had a sore throat that was still healing. And then she began to walk through the dark office. She moved with an otherworldly grace that spoke differently of her race. It was eerie to see. The woman stepped through the various desks until she came to one. The table itself was plain and it blended in with the others. However, it was the woman goal the entire time. Not the desk itself, but the laptop shut on top of it.
She smoothly sat in the chair and opened the computer. Her black leather gloves sliding against the metal laptop with a soft seductive sound. The computer booted up without a pause, as the woman stared at the screen. She sat unmovingly. For a living human, it looked like she didn't breath. Then the screen flicked to a password screen seamlessly.
The woman pursed her lips. "If I was an entity that ruled over a million universes in a corporate job, what would my password for my computer be?" Her eyes scanned over the desk, but it was barren. The woman even looked underneath the laptop to see if anything was underneath. But there was no sign. She sighed. "What would any entity have as a password?" She glanced around, but besides a few potted plants that had tried to eat her earlier, the office didn't have much in decoration.
Then an idea appeared and it came with a memory. And the woman didn't hesitate as she typed in damnthatdinosaur123. The page paused for a moment, and then it switched to the desktop screen. The woman had the irrational urge to say, "I'm in." But she held it in. Instead, she let out a relieving sigh and whispered, "thank you, Luna. You saved my arse again."
The woman clicked on a file and pulled open the folder. She was able to quickly find the one file that she wanted. It wasn't that hard, the folders were neatly organized and easy to comprehend. Harriet P-B, Hufflepuff, Prankster (Uni-4,325,243). Opening it up, the woman found the code of the universe at her fingertips. And smiled. Not a friendly, good, nice smile. But one that spoke of a terrible, no good, horrible, awful idea. The woman only had to make one small, itsy bitsy change. Nobody would notice it. Especially the Entity. They had millions of universes to look over, none of them would notice a few extra lines in the code. At least, until it was far too late. She tucked a lock of unruly red hair behind her ear and began to type.
The Master of Death had a job to do.)
end of arc one.