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New Day, New Life. (Harry Potter,AU,SI)

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Alexandercctv, Apr 18, 2015.

  1. Alexandercctv

    Alexandercctv Making the rounds.

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    Summary: The life and times of The-Girl-Who-Lived. Written, directed and narrated by Alexandria Lilly Potter.
    AN:This is an Alternate Universe/ Self insert. I will be using background information from multiple universes. If this is not to your liking do not read.
    An: Updates once a week
    Prologue
    I was floating, surrounded on all sides by warmth and love. I did not feel hunger or thirst. Nor, did I experience any pain. So you can imagine my, discontent when my refuge was suddenly shattered.
    888:
    “Push Lilly push” James said
    “If you say push one more Merlin forsaken time I will shove your wand so far up your arse you’ll be spitting sparks,” Lilly said. Her normally dulcet tones were strained from the effort of giving birth. In James considered opinion it only made his Lilly flower more beautiful. No matter that her eyes were practically lighting him on fire, such was the power of her glare, and even ignoring that her face was nearly the color of her, beautifully, flowing red locks. In James eyes his wife, his wife even now he could hardly believe she said yes, was the very definition of beautiful.
    “I can’t believe you did this to me you basted. If you ever try and put that thing in me again I’m going to tear it off.” Lilly said growling.
    “N-now Lilly flower you don’t mean that.” James squeaked. The high pitched squeal that followed Lilly’s pronouncement was completely called for, given that sometime during their exchange her left hand had drifted down and was currently gripping a certain, sensitive, part of his anatomy.
    Maintaining her vice like grip she pulled him close, ignoring the slight whimper that escaped his clenched lips, and practically growled in his face. “Yes I do,” before releasing her hold on his bruised anatomy.
    “I can see a head, one last push should do it Ms. Potter.” The calm voice of the mediwitch was a welcome distraction.
    888:
    “Ok Ms. Potter one more push, just one more”
    And such was the story of my birth…
    “Congratulations it’s a girl”
    Wait what!?
    Chapter 1
    Growing up once is difficult enough the first time, going through it a second time with the mind of a twenty something adult was practically torture, soiling myself was humiliating in and of itself but having two or more strangers undressing my new born, and as time passed toddler, self, and talk about it as if it were some sort of accomplishment, new parents are weird, was the height of embarrassment of my new life. If one ignored feeding time that is.
    On an unrelated note full body shudders of disgust, at least when a baby gives them, are apparently very cute and are responded too with copious amounts of hugs and kisses.
    Humiliation aside my early childhood, my second early childhood that is, was not that bad. I mean Potter Manor was swank, for the few months that we stayed there.
    Then one day, after we moved to Godric’s Hollow, we got a visit from Albus to many titles Dumbledore. Knowing what was coming I attempted to get his attention.
    “Beard man,” It wasn’t my first time calling him beard man but it was the first time I said it in such a demanding tone. Unfortunately demanding tones from a young toddler are at best cute and at worst a reason to cast a calming charm to quite the child.
    Did you know excessive use of calming charms on children, especially when more effort and magic than necessary is put into said charm by overtired-stressed-out and quite frankly fed-up first time parents, has been known to have an effect not dissimilar to narcotics. So I, in essence, spent the majority of the first two years of my new life stoned out of my little mind. You know, that may explain a few things.
    In all fairness calming charms are not often the first response of a magical parents, but unfortunately for my new parents I was a crier and until my vocal mussels developed enough to talk my only way to express my discontent at finding myself trapped in the body of a female toddler was to scream my little head off, even more unfortunately I refused to be soothed by any other means. So my new parents had to make frequent use of them.
    Even then Lilly, or should I say mom, would have held back from charming away my attitude problem. If I had simply reframed from trying to climb Dumbledore’s beard.
    I don’t know if it was that I was consistently ignored or the fact that I spent more time dreading Voldemort’s eventual arrival than actually being able to do anything about it. But I could not restrain myself from trying to tell Dumbledore about Voldemort’s impending arrival.
    Of course simply telling him was out of the question. I could barely wrap my lips around ‘beard man’ let alone Voldemort. So that meant I would have to get Dumbledore to read my mind.
    I knew that my plan to get the headmaster to read my mind had a very low chance of success, but given that my attempts to warn my new parents about the Voldemort’s coming attack were continually ignored and frequently left me crying tears of frustration which of course lead to another calming charm. I simply had to give it a try.
    This of course did not happen. Instead after attempting to scale Mt. Beard I was hit by an especially powerful calming charm, a necessity given that I was beginning to develop something of a resistance to them, and summarily tucked into bed.
    888
    I didn’t know if it was because of my past life, were I had no magic, or if there was some other reason but whatever the cause I could sense something. First, and most strongly in Potter manor, and then again when we moved to Godric’s Hollow, especially once the fidelius charm was cast. I could feel the magic in the very air. Even knowing were and who I was it took an embarrassing long time for me to realize that it was magic I was sensing.
    Magic at least the way I felt it had no direct translation into the usual five senses. Instead it manifested as a combination of a feeling of pressure, sometimes taste, and smell. It was all these felling and just more in a way that I cannot adequately explain in any coherent way.
    I bring this up now so that I can explain just how it felt when Voldemort came for me that fateful Halloween day.
    888
    I woke with a start, it took me a short time to wake up enough to realize what had disturbed me enough to shake me from my magically assisted sleep. There was nothing amiss as far as I could tell in my nursery. Nor could I hear anything from the rest of the house. Which unfortunately meant nothing given that my mother had set a one way silencing charm on my room in an effort to help me sleep. So while they could hear me I could hear nothing from beyond the bounds of my room as long as the door was closed.
    Still something was very wrong. My eyes widened as it hit me, the wards were down. No. No. No, it’s too soon he can’t be here yet we weren’t ready. A few more days and I was sure I could get them to leave. Even if it meant revealing myself to them, even if it meant risking everything this new life could offer, if I only had more time I could have gotten them to leave. I was sure of it.
    It was then that Lilly, no, mom, came running into the room and behind her came this cloying feeling. That could only be Voldemort’s magic. Normally if I wanted to get more than an ambient felling of the local magic I would have to really focus on it. I had no such problem feeling the magic Voldemort projected.
    His magic was horrible it felt as if it were trying to smother me where I stood at the bars of my crib. It reeked of death, of rotting corpses at high noon and tasted of schadenfreude, as if he took great pleasure in seeing his enemies suffering. More than all that though was a sense of overwhelming power.
    I had tried to feel my new parent’s magic before but all I could get was a slight feeling of love. I even on occasion tried to get a feel of Dumbledore’s magic on the rare visits he paid my parents and aside from a slight taste of lemon, strangely enough, all I could get from his was a small feeling of power. That while more than I could sense of my parents was an ember compared to this monster.
    If I had not been paralyzed by his power I would have thrown up. As it was all I could do was watch with as Lilly set down…nothing? As she placed it on the floor I saw part of her hand disappear. An invisibility cloak, or rather The Invisibility Cloak. Before I could start to wonder what she was doing with an invisibility cloak, aside from grabbing me and using it to get the hell out of here, she waved her wand and activated some sort of runic diagram that she must of prepared beforehand.
    There was scream that went on for several long seconds before I heard a loud crash from below.
    “Obsecro domine benedicere vili mors animae est admissus,”Lilly had started chanting.
    Thump. Voldemort had stated up the stairs.
    “Hoc unum petit vestra”
    Thump
    “Si placet tibi ut redirem legitime”
    Thump
    “tu autem Domine mortem rogo tantum ut serves hanc filiam meam.”
    Thump. Thump. Thump.
    “quaeso”
    There was a flash and then the diagram, and the cloak with it, disappeared. With a quick wave of her wand Lilly removed the last traces of what had transpired. Before moving to stand in front of my crib.
    Thump
    There he was coming down the hall taking his time, as if he had all the time in the world. Tall, even for a man, with strong shoulders and a chiseled chin with a twisted smirk adorning his face, and his eyes shined with an unholy red light, in spite of it all he was beautiful. I could easily see how he could draw a following.
    “Stand aside Ms. Potter,” Voldemort said his voice was low, each word carefully pronounced so that there could be no mistake as to his meaning.
    “No, take me instead,” Lilly’s voice on the other hand was shaky. In face her whole body was trembling. I could not see her face from here but, if how tight she held her shoulders was any indication, I would say that her face was drawn and her lips would be pinched.
    “I will not ask again.” Voldemort said. There was a palpable menace in his voice and his magic, which I had slowly begun to acclimate to, surged with renewed strength. If he always projected this feeling it was no wonder that no one except Dumbledore had been able to face him. I could see the affect it had on her. Lilly’s hunched inward before throwing her arm forward with speed that I had never before seen from her and for a moment I thought she had a chance.
    Voldemort didn’t speak, he barely even moved, a nearly imperceptible twitch of his wand and the death curse hit her before her arm had even finished extending. Just like that my new mother was dead. I felt a bit of me die. I had no idea how to feel. I already had parents and she wasn’t one of them but she loved me unreservedly as a mother should and I couldn’t help but return it even if I missed my other life.
    “Such a waste. Severus will be so disappointed,” his words held a mocking edge. I froze as he turned his gaze to me. “So you are to be my end Hmm? The spawn of a blood traitor and a mudblood whore. I think not. Avada kedavra.”
    When the spell hit me I finally, mercifully, lost conciseness.
    888
    8 years later, 2001
    Privet drive was a study of contrasts. Its houses were, to the last, identical in every way, the lawns were all neatly trimmed, the children were all well behaved, lest they suffer their parent’s wrath, and its residents were all very, very normal. Some though went to great pains to ensure that they more normal then others.
    Take for example the Dursley family. Their hedges were trimmed, the grass was never more than an inch and a half in height, and the garbage was always put on the curb no more one hour before pick up. I know this because it was my responsibility to ensure that it was so. Just as it was my responsibility to cook breakfast twice and lunch once a week. Sundays were my usual lunch days as only good normal folk went to church. At least if one believes what uncle Vernon has to say on the matter. Whatever his opinion of me though it certainly did not stop him from inhaling the food I cooked for him, no doubt contributing to his already significant and robust form.
    I for one was glad for the time to myself, even if most of it was spent preparing a veritable feast for Sunday brunch. I used it as time to plan for the future.
    I had long since gotten used to the fact that I had somehow wound up in the Harry Potter universe. The fact that I was now female was something I was ok with, and that was a little disturbing to me. Not that there was anything wrong with being female, but you’d think a sudden shift in gender would bother me, but no matter how I tried I could not feel uncomfortable in my own skin. To be honest though I didn’t dwell on it much, I had more important things to worry about.
    Such as how I found myself in, what I had thought to be, a fictional universe. Not simply as a nice safe background character, but as the stand in of Harry Potter himself. What it did mean though was that I, joy of joys, now had a destiny.
    If I had by some miracle been dropped in here, and by here I mean this universe, as a minor side character like Luna Lovegood or say Sally Ann Perks, who managed to go to Hogwarts get an education and leave before the second war with Voldemort really got going again without anyone even noticing her. Which incidentally would have been my plan. With the minor revision of leaving Dumbledore a list of the horcruxes and the best ways to deal with them. Which meant she stole my plan. Bitch. She stole my plan without even leaving clues for Dumbledore. Lazy bitch.
    Given that I’m the bloody chosen one though, that plan is closed to me. Hence my planning which at the moment consisted mostly of a list of possible friends and supplies I thought necessary to survive the coming ordeal.
    Speaking of, I glanced at the clock, it’s almost time for the Dursleys to get back from church. I finished the sausages before placing them in on the table with the rest of the food. A quick look around the table revealed nothing amiss. With a satisfied nod cleaned up what little mess there was, the kitchen was to be kept as clean possible at all times especially when expecting company.
    Just in time I hear the cars pull into the drive and head to the front door. Opening the door I greeted the family that my erstwhile family was trying to impress today.
    “Good morning Mister Jensen how are you today?” I said. Tall, fit and incredibly smart Mr. Jensen was on the short list for CEO of Grunnings for his work as the vice-president of international markets. Which meant that he was someone that Vernon needed to impress if he ever wanted get that promotion to senior manager. A feat made easier because of Mr. Jensen’s weakness for my homemade blood pudding. How anyone can eat that stuff I don’t know but he loves it.
    “Quite well miss Alex, and you?” Mr. Jensen said. As we were exchanging pleasantries I take his and his family’s outer wear to hang in the cupboard under the stairs. My chores, of which this was one, were a part of my understanding with my aunt. As long as I completed them in a timely manner; kept my grades up, and Dudley’s grades as well, not that Aunt Petunia was aware of just how much of Dudley’s good grades were my doing, and kept out of the way. I was left mostly to my own devices.
    “Oh I’m doing well. The food is ready if you just head to the dining room you can seat yourselves, and I made extra blood pudding for you and put it in the fridge,” I say this without ever dropping my pleasant smile, which was mostly genuine if slightly wooden. With that he headed to the dining room at a faster clip than is really necessary.
    Vernon passes me with barely a glance and Dudley follows close behind though he does keep enough presences of mind to give me a respectful nod. A feat that took him bringing home good grades for once and seeing just how pleased it made Vernon and Aunt Petunia.
    “Everything’s perfect?” Aunt Petunia asked.
    “Of course Aunt Petunia, I know how much this promotion would mean to the family,” my smile shifted to something more genuine as I turned to face her. Aunt Petunia looked nothing like the actress that played her in the movies or how most fanfictions portrayed her, I never read the books but it was a safe bet that she didn’t look like that either. Instead she actually quite beautiful with long strawberry blond hair and a symmetrical face. Honestly why she chose to marry Vernon of all people is beyond me, but love is blind, loud guffaws rang from the dining room, and deaf. Love is blind and deaf.
    “Thank you dear. Are you going to the library today?” Aunt Petunia asked.
    “Yes ma’am” I replied.
    “Good. Good, here’s 20 quid. Be back by dark and make sure you get something to eat for dinner.” She said. With that she went inside.
    I gave the money a long look as I headed upstairs to get changed. It was far from the first time that Aunt Petunia went out of her way be nice, but I found myself surprised each time.
    In most fanfictions the Dursleys were portrayed as negligent at best or so abusive that lifetime would jump at the chance to make a movie about them. In reality, or at least this reality, Aunt Petunia was consistently kind, Dudley was respectful, which admittedly took a lot of effort on my part, and Vernon was the worst of the lot with him just ignoring me.
    What could have cased that change I didn’t know, but I had my suspicions that it had something to do with just how different Aunt Petunia looked compared to how I expected her to be. Which did lend credence to my theory that this was universe was not canon compliant.
    I shook my head. Whatever the truth I wasn’t going to figure it out by wool gathering.
    888
    I had not been entirely honest with Aunt Petunia. While I did plan on going to the library, I would be going if my other plans fell through. Which they had an unfortunate tendency to do. So I did not in fact feel guilty about misleading her as to my whereabouts. Now if only my stomach would stop turning I might actually be able to call the knight-bus this time.
    Once I was far enough from Privet Drive I ducted into an ally and after looking around to ensure that I was all alone I pulled out my hand mirror. Looking at my refection I thanked my lucky stars that I had read more than my fair share of Harry Potter fanfics because if I hadn’t I may have never discovered that I had some latent metamorph abilities. It only let me change my skin color and hair length as well as my hair’s color. Nowhere near a versatile as the full list of ability’s that some fanfics gave metamophs. Still I was very happy with it and because it was the only form of magic I could get to work I practiced with it at every opportunity.
    I had gotten so good at it that I could give myself multiple contrasting color patterns both on my hair and skin. My favorite change though is making me look like a Zabrak, the red alien from the first star wars. It took me forever to get my hair to look like bone, and it’s still not quite right, but you would only be able to tell that if you actually touched one of the bone spurs.
    As it was I spent the majority of my time looking like a picture perfect recreation of my mother. I had already looked almost exactly like her, eerily so, it only took a slight darkening of my hair and slightly brighter shade of green for my eyes and my plan to ensure Snape saw mother when he looked at me and not his hated school rival.
    Still once I finished turning my hair black and shorting it to just below my shoulders, I darkened my skin a few shades and finally moved my cursed scar from my forehead to my back, given that it was one of Voldemort’s horcruxes I could not simple get rid of it. My preparations complete I put my mirror away and left the ally to try and call the Knight bus, again.
    When I said that the only bit of magic I could get to work was my metamorph abilities I was being entirely honest. At least once a month for the last year I would leave Privet Drive and attempt to summon the Knight Bus and each time I would be met with failure. I had tried everything from focusing on my magic and calling for it to driving myself into a panic before calling the dammed thing and still nothing.
    It was supposed to come to any witch or wizard in need. I was in need dammit, so why the hell was it ignoring me? I stayed there for ten minutes before giving up and going to the library. Where I checked out a few fun reads and a book on meditation.
    888
    June 2002
    Dear Ms. Potter
    We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…
    My Hogwarts acceptance letter had finally arrived a few days ago. I knew it was coming, but well I was comfortable. I was safe, I was loved and treated with respect. Did I really want to go to Hogwarts? A place where, if canon was anything to go by, I would be expected to some larger than life savior, and when I inevitably failed to live up to those expectations I would be reviled for my perceived failure.
    More importantly though was the fact that as long as I stayed here the blood wards would ensure that I was safe, from Voldemort at least. That was the crux of the matter wasn’t it. I did not want to face him again. The night that he came for me was the worst one of my life, this one and the last. He walked through some of the strongest wards as if they were nothing and killed my parents almost without breaking stride.
    I could feel my chest tightening and my breath was starting to come in loud gasps.
    He murdered them, and I couldn’t do anything. To this day my feelings for the Potters were a confusing mess but they died trying to protect me. They died for me they had dam well-earned the right of being my parents. If I just tried a little harder I could have gotten them to leave. If I had stopped worrying about them finding out about my past life, I could have…goddammit, I could have done something.
    I reached under my bed for the paper bag I kept there for occasions like this. This was not the first time I had required it, unfortunately.
    I did not want anyone else dying for me, but really what choice did I have? It’s not like the Wizarding world would simply let me not go to Hogwarts.
    Ok deep breaths Alex, just calm down and think. It took a few minutes but I was able to, slowly, get my breathing under control.
    Voldemort was not the type of person to let things go. So simply staying here was out of the question, because if I did stay here he would find a way through the wards. Even if, and it was a big if, he was unable to find a way to bring the wards down there’s only so long that I could hide behind them. Food would quickly become an issue, admittedly not as quickly as it would for most other houses, it took a lot of food to keep Vernon fed. Even that was only a problem if Voldemort, or one of his minions, didn’t manage to catch me outside the wards.
    With that in mind I dried my tears, took a deep breath and headed down stairs to find Aunt Petunia.
    888
    “Aunt Petunia we need to talk” I said.
    “Ok dear I’ll be there in a second.” She said. It was a good thing we were alone today, Vernon was at work and Dudley was at Pier’s house. This talk was going to difficult enough without having to deal with them. On top the emotions this talk was sure to generate.
    “So what did you want to talk about?” Aunt Petunia said. Having joined me at the table she gave me a concerned look. Ok Alex its time. With a deep breath I reached into my shirt pocket and set my Hogwarts letter on the table. “Oh,” her voice was soft as she stared at the parchment.
    “Aunt Petunia?” I asked. Are you ok? Do you still love me? Please don’t hate me. I knew that I was being emotional and that it was wasn’t like this was likely to make her reject me. Probably. Hopefully. Right?
    “I had hoped that with the way they dumped you here that there was something that kept you from being one of them.” I had wondered, given how different things were, if Dumbledore had just left me on the front step as he did in canon.
    “Dropped off?” I asked.
    “They left you on the front step all bundled up with a letter stuck to you saying Lilly was dead and to take care of you.” Aunt Petunia said. I cringed. Really Dumbledore her sister is murdered and you just leave a note? ‘Your sisters dead but here’s your consolation prize.’
    “As if I needed a note to tell me to take care of you. She was my sister and after everything Lilly did for me…anyway. Taking care of you is the least I could do.” She finished. True, but I was not expecting you to be so nice about it. I mean Dudley was blatantly the favorite but I received my fair share of love and attention, from her at least, Vernon was another matter entirely. I got clothes bought just for me. Something Vernon grumbled about but he came around when Aunt Petunia pointed out that dressing a girl in Dudley’s old things would raise more than a few eyebrows. More than that though was the presents I would sometimes get from her, small things but they were sweet and showed she cared.
    “Of course it wasn’t long after you started living here that I knew that you would be going back one way or another.” Aunt Petunia said. Her smile bittersweet. “You are not as discreet as you think you are.” She cut her eyes to me and her smile turned devious.
    “W-what do mean?” I asked. What does she know? How can she know, I was always very careful to make sure I was alone before I started practicing.
    “What do I mean? Two words, Star Wars.” Ok so she knows, but how in the hell does she know?
    “I’m sure I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about.” I turned my nose up and closed my eyes trying, and failing, to stop the blush working its way up my neck and the smile tugging at my lips. I had never been a good liar I suffered from the condition known as liars delight. Which meant any time I felt I was getting away with something I started smiling. Not a small one either, a big face splitting grin that gave me away to even the most of oblivious of people. My Aunt is a lot of things, normal foremost among them and she would happily cut a bitch if they implied otherwise, but oblivious is not one of them. So it was no surprise when she let lose an unladylike sniff and rolled her eyes at my evasion.
    “Pleas Alex, I opened the bathroom door to put some linens away and what do I see but my niece trying to win a staring contest with the mirror while the shower is running,” here she paused to give me a brief glare. “I was about to say something when all of a sudden you started changing color and posing,” Oh god she didn’t, “and saying, what was it?” She did, “Oh yes ‘tremble fool you know not the power of the dark side’. Did I get that right?” By now my face had met the table and my blush was visible from space, even from behind my arms.
    “So that’s why you got me that Extended Universe book,” it all made sense now. Aunt Petunia just smiled.
    888
    3 days later
    After that it was just a matter of sending a request for someone to come to the house using the PO-Box that Aunt Petunia used to write Mom when she went to Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall’s response came yesterday saying that a representative would be by tomorrow promptly at noon. So of course Vernon made me return my library books and I, of course, lost track of time reading.
    I looked at my watch as made my way down the alley, 11:51, bloody hell I’m going to be late. If I run I might make it in time but if I run I would undoubtedly arrive a sweaty mess. Late or mess, mess or late, nether one was a good option. Professor McGonagall was sure to be annoyed either way and if they sent Snape my whole plan to avoid aggravating him would be over before it could even begin.
    As I was debating the merits of sweaty or late I noticed someone walking down the alley. I thought nothing of it, this was a frequently traveled shortcut. Not to mention that it was still daylight so the odds of a perv trying to get his jollies, at least in this neighborhood, were low.
    So I was completely surprised when, as we were passing each other, he whirled around and slammed me into the alley wall.
    “Potter,” he practically growled at me. Potter? So not a perv, joy. I hadn’t even gotten my wand yet. Does this guy have no sense of decorum? If his breath was anything to go by the answer was no.
    “Tic-Tac,” I snarked. His hand was clenching my neck, in fact he was holding me up by my neck. Air was rapidly becoming a problem. Even so I couldn’t give up an opportunity to quip in the face of death. It was traditional.
    “What,” he said, I wasn’t imagining it, he was growling at me and with how easily he was holding me with just one hand clued me in that he may not be human.
    “You need a tic-tac,” I attempted to say this in the most condescending upper crust accent possible. His grip was so tight though that what came out was less posh and more ‘I smoke ten pack a day’. Still I got point across if I was reading his response right.
    “I was already going to kill you, but now I’m going to take my time.” He said his grin was impossibly wide, before he leaned close. I had not been idle during our exchange. While I distracted him with my stunning wit I had pulling my switch blade from my pants pocket. Once I got it out I waited until he leaned forward than I rammed it straight up through the bottom of his jaw. Which should have been instantly fatal. Regrettably no one told him that, because as soon as I finished ramming it in he threw me down the alley.
    “You bitch!” he reached up and casually pulled my knife from his jaw and tossed it aside. Ok this fight is way out of my league. Time to run.
    “Well now that’s enough of that now isn’t it?” How I missed him I have no idea but Hagrid had suddenly appeared behind my attacker. As surprised as I was, my attacker was even more surprised. He spun around raising his fists as he did so. But before he could do anything Hagrid gutted him with a swift cut before stepping back, to avoid the flood of blood from his stomach, and removed his head.
    At this point the thing had stopped looking human and, as I looked, his entire body turned black before catching fire and quickly turning to ash. I turned to face Hagrid and gave him a questioning look.
    “Red court vampire,” Hagrid answered my unasked question. Red Court vampires were a reoccurring villain in the Dresden Files. They walked around in a skin suit and regularly made slaves out of people using their addicting saliva. “They’re bad little beasties.” Hagrid was tall, twelve ft. if he was an inch, with a beard more like a scraggly lion’s main than anything else, and he had a strong West Country accent.
    “Sword?” I asked stunned. I honestly had no idea how to react, wasn’t Hagrid supposed to be a nice gentle soul?
    “Sword, this? No this is just my belt knife,” Hagrid answered. Belt knife sure. He finished cleaning his S-belt knife and put it away. “So ready to go. I already talked to your Aunt, said I’d come get you before heading over to Diagon Alley.”
    “…Yea sure,” My mind was running in over drive. Red Court vampires. They’re not canon, hell they’re supposed to be part of another universe entirely. I shook my head to clear it. I grabbed my knife before following Hagrid out the ally. I really need some history books.
    888
    Headmasters Office that evening
    Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was a man with many names. He was also a man with many titles, but most importantly he was a man with many layers. His favorite was the one he spent the most time cultivating. That of the dotting, if eccentric, grandfatherly teacher. His entire office was designed to enforce this image.
    “Come in Hagrid,” Dumbledore said. Portraits are useful things if you manage to befriend them, or if you could command them. He tried to make friends with them but if that failed he could, as Headmaster, could command them. Thankfully that was rarely necessary, as with the hidden portrait he had in the stair way to his office that let him know who was coming and a simple charm let him know when someone was about to knock. A small trick but one he quite enjoyed.
    “So how was your trip with young Miss Potter?” Dumbledore asked?
    “It was grand it was. Looks exactly like her mother and she kept asking questions for the whole trip. Especially about the Vampire Courts. Real curious that one, just like her mom.” Hagrid responded. Now why would she be asking about the Courts? Dumbledore knew that muggle literature was filled with so called good vampires but for her to take such an interest in the real thing was somewhat disturbing. What could have prompted her to ask about them in the first place it’s not as if Diagon was likely to have anything about them. Except, perhaps, in the history books.
    “Oh my, that is good. So do you think she’ll follow her parent’s example and go to Gryffindor? Or perhaps Ravenclaw?” Dumbledore inquired.
    “Gryffindor for sure, she handled the Red Court bestie like a champ. Had him on the run she did, before I even got there.” Hagrid said. You could hear the pride in his voice as he described the encounter.
    “I’m sure she did my boy now if you’ll excuse me I have some paper work to do.” Dumbledore said.
    “Of course, of course. Have a good day, Professor.” Hagrid responded. With that he left.
    “That’s not good, that’s not good at all,” Dumbledore muttered aloud. Fawkes let lose a hard trill from his perch where he had been for the entire conversation. “You may be right my friend. Perhaps it’s time to get back in touch with old friends” Now how best to phrase this. Taking his quill he wrote a short letter before giving it to Fawkes. “Would you be willing to deliver this Fawkes?” An affirmative trill was his only response before Fawkes flamed away.
    888
    The Silk Rose, late that night
    The Silk Rose was the place for the elite of magical Britain to come and wash away their stress. From simple massages to deep tissue potion treatments and a full service staff, the Silk Rose offered everything its clients could possibly want. On the off chance that they didn’t have exactly what you were looking for the staff would happily acquire it for you and for a nominal fee would ensure that they had it on hand for future visits. No matter what or who your taste might be, but most importantly the staff did this with complete confidentiality. It was for this reason that The Silk Rose had been serving its customers’ needs for nearly five hundred years.
    “Thank you for the tea my dear.” Dumbledore said as he sat in Madam Sofia’s office. Which was tastefully decorated in a soothing combination of black and purple.
    “It’s a pleasure to serve the Chief Warlock.” Madam Sofia said. Some women are cute, others are beautiful. Madam Sofia though was someone who’s every action screamed sex. She caressed each word as she said them giving her the best come hither voice Dumbledore had ever had the pleasure of hearing. “Though I must admit some surprise to see you here. You’ve never graced us with your presence before, but I’m positive that whatever you desire, we here at the Silk Rose can more than meet your needs.”
    “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me, because, you see, I have a slight problem and I think that you’re the only one that help me.” Dumbledore said and Madam Sofia made an inquisitive sound that did things to her lips. While she subtly shifted her posture to better emphasize her considerable assets. Dumbledore’s voice changed as he continued, taking on a harsh edge. “Some fool attacked one of my students today.”
    “Oh my, that’s awful. I hope the poor dear’s alright. But I don’t see what that has to do with me.” Madam Sofia said, a slight tightening of her eyes was all the indication that his words had affected her.
    “It has to do with you because it was a member of the Red Court that attacked her” Dumbledore said, his normally twinkling eyes were shining with rage.
    “That’s impossible as you well know I’m the only one of my coven that has sufficient age to walk in the light of day. If by some chance one of my kin did attack one of your students it was not by my order nor was it one of mine that did so.” Madam Sofia protested.
    “Your story would have more merit had I not used a time turner to go back and observer the attack myself.” Dumbledore tossed a ring on her desk, taking a dark pleaser in her slight flinch. “Once Miss Potter had made it to safety I examined the scene and found this little trinket. It took some digging but I managed to divine its purpose. It strengthens any glamour’s derived from the nevernever.”
    “Sounds useful, but…” Madam Sofia tried to protest.
    “Madam you attacked a child, one whom I have taken an interest in, and I will not stand for it.” Dumbledore said, his voice dangerously low.
    “Come off it Dumbledore you’ve certainly never taken notice before when I’ve done business in the past…” Madam Sofia said her voice scathing.
    “Silence.” Dumbledore said, releasing the power he usually worked so hard to keep contained. It filled the room, causing the walls to shake and Madam Sofia to freeze. “It’s true that I have, in the past, been forced to ignore your business practices. Now though, you have overstepped your bounds. Attacking The Girl Who Lived, have you lost your mind? That poor girl has already lost so much and I fear the road she must walk will only get harder from here, but I intend to insure that she has as much happiness in her life as possible.”
    “I have official dispensation from the Wizengamet.” Madam Sofia said, her voice taking a panicked edge. It was true that she did have official permission to operate. Before the recent war with The White Council, The Silk Rose would never have been talked about in polite company let alone be given offical leave to operate in Wizarding Britain. The White Councils rocky relationship with the official government of wanded magical’s though made it politically convenient to give The Red Court a boon that cost the politicians nothing and gave The White Council the proverbial middle finger. “You can’t touch me.”
    “Grindelwald thought much the same,” was all Dumbledore said before he sent a high powered cutting charm at her neck. For a moment nothing happened then Madam Sofia’s head fell from her shoulders and landed on her desk with a sickening squelch. Killing was never easy, should never be easy, but it was at times necessary. Killing Red Court Vampires while unpleasant, especially when they used their flesh masks to look human, was entirely necessary. Their entire war with the White Council started because one of White Councils wizards could not sit ideally by and let them prey on innocents, and neither would Dumbledore.
    Her death activated the wards Dumbledore had set up earlier. With a final sip of his tea he stood and faced the door. Just in time for it to fly off its hinges. A swipe of his wand sent it back through the doorway pulping the vampire about to enter. Another wave and the three behind that one lost their heads. A slash, and the entire wall exploded, killing the rest of the ones in the hallway. That done he stepped past the wreckage and continued throughout the building. The wards would ensure that no one would make it out until he was done.
    888
    An hour later, outside The Silk Rose
    Warden Commander Anastasia Luccio was a professional, she had been to more interesting places and killed more interesting monsters in her life than most people even heard of. So when she received a request from Dumbledore asking for help with a coven of Red Court vampires she was not surprised. Annoyed that it had taken the wanded idiots this long to realize just what they were paying with, simply for the chance to snub the White Council.
    When Dumbledore had contacted her she had wanted to assemble a group of wardens to hit the Silk Rose. Sadly the only one available was Warden Chandler. A raid like this required at least five wardens to be done safely. With no other Wardens available she would have settled for a squad of Auror’s but this raid wasn’t sanctioned by the Ministry. Which meant that they had to get creative. When she told Dumbledore this the old fool had walked, calmly as you pleased, right through the front door. Calling out over his shoulder for her to insure the wards didn’t fail.
    “So, how long till he calls us in, do you think?” Warden Chandler was talented. Sadly he was also young and he knew just how good he was so he had a tendency to talk without thinking things through.
    “He’s not.” Luccio said.
    “There must be at least a hundred Red Court members in there.” Chandler’s voice had turned incredulous. “I know the wanded types think he’s the second coming of Merlin but surely he can’t have bought his own hype.”
    “What hype my boy?” Dumbledore said. Chandler had turned to address Luccio so he was unable to see Dumbledore as he walked out the, now burning, Silk Rose coming to a stop just behind Chandler. As such Chandler loosed a, manly sounding, squeal while spinning around launching a bolt of lightning from his cane as he did so. The lightning splashed harmlessly against Dumbledore’s shield. “Are you alright, you seem a little high strung. Perhaps a lemon drop to sooth your nerves?” Butter would not melt in Dumbledore’s mouth
    “I assume you’re being here means that the Reds are taken care of.” Luccio’s only indication of amusement was a slight upturn of her lips.
    “Yes,” Dumbledore said, his face losing its amused demeanor. “Yes it is. Thank you for the information of the ring and the intelligence on just who was in there. It proved invaluable tonight.”
    A nod was Luccio’s only response. With that she began to walk away and Dumbledore called Fawkes to take him back to his office. Leaving Chandler there with his mouth soundlessly moving as his gaze went back and forth trying to figure out what just happened.
     
  2. Alexandercctv

    Alexandercctv Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 2:

    Tearful Goodbyes and Hello’s

    September 1st

    Aunt Petunia and I sat in a heavy silence as she drove me to Kings Cross Station. The past month had been an ordeal, to say the least. My going to Hogwarts was enough of an issue in and of itself. So that meant that Hagrid had to add fuel to an already volatile situation by mentioning my encounter with the Red Court vampire.

    Thankfully they were too stunned by the news to react properly so I was able to see him off before the fireworks got started. Aunt Petunia had her head in her hands and was shaking and Vernon face was rapidly turning purple. Dudley, well Dudley, just looked confused. Vernon looked ready to go tearing after Hagrid, whether or not it was concern for me or his source of blood sausages I couldn’t say, but remembering how easily Hagrid had handled my attacker, I managed to keep Vernon inside.

    It was touch and go for a while but I managed to calm everyone down. Thankfully, because there was talk of moving to the colonies, their words not mine, and while I may be a proud Texan at heart, if the little I was able to read on it was anything to go by,
    Magical America was not a safe place to live by any stretch of the imagination.

    “Alex,” Aunt Petunia said pulling me from my thoughts and noticed that we were already parked. “We’re here.” Her knuckles were white from their tight grip on the steering wheel.

    “I, uh, thanks for the ride.” I said, pausing a moment to see if she would say anything before opining my door and getting out. I was in the middle of retrieving my trunk, it was charmed to be feather light, when Aunt Petunia through her door open and ran over to me and drew into a tight hug. “Wha,”

    “You be careful you hear me.” She said her grip was almost painful and her voice was rough as she continued. “I already lost my sister to this magic nonsense, don’t let me lose you to.”

    “I will Aunt Petunia, promise.” I said.It hurt to lie to her about this but what choice did I have. I had a maniac out trying to kill me. For the next seven years, at least, I would have to take risks and be in danger whether or not I wanted to. Still, that didn’t mean I had to dumb about it. After taking care of the horcruxes, or telling Dumbledore so he could take care of them, I would kill Voldemort with a sniper rifle from half a mile away. Though were I was going to get a nipper rifle, let alone learn how to use it, I did not know. At least that was my current plan. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

    “Good, and make sure you come back for Christmas.” Aunt Petunia said, a pleading note in her voice. I nodded and with one last squeeze she let go, ruffled my hair, got in the car and left. I sighed and glanced at my wand, holly and phoenix feather, what else, that I had been fingering the whole way here.

    I still remembered how it felt when I got it. It was as if I was made whole. My magic felt both closer to the surface and calmer at the same time. It was intense.

    “Well enough stalling time to get this over with.” I took a deep breath and went to meet my destiny. My oddly train shaped destiny.

    888

    Hermione, Hogwarts Express

    Hermione was excited. She was on a magic train headed towards a magical castle to learn magic from real life magical teachers. Up until a few months ago if someone had said magic was real, let alone that there was an entire community of magic users hidden in the middle of London, she would not have believed them. In point of fact she would have gone on to tell said person just how unlikely she found this to be and quoted multiple sources so back up her view point. Perhaps, she would say to this proverbial person, that they may want to go and see a doctor about their condition, there is medication for that now you know. That was before Professor McGonagall had come to her house and made her father fly with a wave of her wand.

    I had got to Kings Cross early and had already picked out a compartment and was eagerly awaiting the coming trip and the possibility of making new friends. That I could impress with my hard won knowledge of magic, some of those book were quite dry thank you very much. When a head of fiery red hair opened the compartment door and asked if she could please join me. Then, after I said yes, put her trunk away and sat down across from me.

    “So, my names Alexandrea Potter what’s yours?” the redhead’s, Alexandrea Potter’s, voice was upbeat.

    “Are you really? I’ve read all about you, you know. How you defeated the Dark Lord and stopped the last war. Is it true that he had red eyes?” I would have gone on had she not started laughing. I ducted my head, my first chance to make a new friend and she’s already laughing at me. It was just like Primary school all over again.

    “I’m, ha, sorry I’m not laughing at you it’s just I was all ready for people to freak out when they heard my name, but I didn’t think someone would ask me about His eyes.” I sunk deeper in my seat and my blush deepened. “But yes I am, that’s what they say, and yes he did have red eyes, bright red in fact. I don’t think I caught your name.” Alexandrea’s head tilted to the left and a warm smile crossed her lips.

    “Hermione, that is, my name is Hermione Granger. Pleased to meet you.” Honestly at least tell here your name first before you talk her ear off.

    “Pleased to meet you, call me Alex.” Alex offered me her hand and a beaming smile. Perhaps making friends wouldn’t be so hard after all.

    888

    Hermione was just like what I expected her to be. Smart, inquisitive and intergenic. Still, it was weird to see her so young with the bushy hair and buck teeth. I suppose I was subconsciously thinking of Hermione’s older self when I pictured meeting her.

    “So what house do you think you’ll be in. I’m hoping for Ravenclaw myself.” I asked. I had put a lot of thought on which house I should try for. They all had their good points. That said I planned to spend a lot of time researching spells and I liked reading, as in I spent most if not all my free time reading. So Ravenclaw seemed the best fit.

    “I plan to try for Gryffindor. It was Dumbledore’s house when he went to Hogwarts you know.” Hermione replied giddily. Her enthusiasm was infectious. I could feel my nerves easing.

    “I had heard that. Still you seem to be more of a Ravenclaw, why would you want to go to Gryffindor? Is that were your parents went?” I might not be able to lie but pretending ignorance was much easier.

    “What? No, my parents are dentists. I want to go to Gryffindor because that’s where Dumbledore went and he’s the greatest wizard of the age.” She said. Did she even breathe once during that whole speech? Hermione going to Gryffindor wasn’t going to stop me from being friends with her, but it would make it more difficult and she wouldn’t be happy there.

    “Dentists really? That’s fun,” try as I might I couldn’t keep the slight grimace off my face. Dudley and I’s last dentist visit ended with more than one root canal. On both my part and Dudley’s. Needless to say I would happily never return to the Dentist’s Office.

    “Not really, no.” She was smiling as she said this so I think she caught my reaction.

    “Sorry, just my last visit was unpleasant,” to say the least.

    “No problem, that’s the usual reaction. Daddy says that most people would rather hear that they have cancer from their doctor than get a call from the dentist.” What were her parents’ names again I’m sure it was mentioned somewhere. Unfortunately my memories of my last life was not as clear as I would like. So, at least until I mastered occlumency, something which Diagon Alley had nothing on, I was forced to make do with half remembered tidbits of information.

    “Yea I..,” was as far as I got before someone opened the door.

    “Is Alex Potter in here? I know she’s on the train, Father said. So is she in here?” Ah, Draco Malfoy blond hair blue eyes and a sense of entitlement that seemed to permeate him. With how different this universe is, Red Court vampires and The White Council came to mind, I was wondering if Draco might have changed for the better. I had managed to avoid him on my trip to Diagon so this was my first time meeting him.
    Fortunately it seems my worries of leather pants were unfounded.

    “That’d be me. Who, may I ask, are you?” Just because he was, apparently, the same little douche from canon, doesn’t mean I couldn’t be polite. I didn’t need more enemies, Voldemort was more than enough, thank you very much.

    “Draco Malfoy,” he pronounced it with a slight elongation of the a in Draco. Odd why would he say it like that. “And these are Crabby and Goyle,” again with the slight elongations. What’s going on? My eyes widened as it hit me. Vampire courts. The White Council. Dresden. True Names.

    True Names, a capitol N is definitely called for, are dangerous and powerful. If you knew someone’s True Name, and you had sufficient power, they were yours to command. It was comparable to the Imperious curse, except targeted specifically you. Perhaps a better comparison would be voodoo dolls put something of the targets, blood or hair for example, into one and you could cause them great misfortune.

    Everyone had their own True Name, usually what you were named at birth but it could change, if how you saw yourself changed. At least if I was remembering that correctly. I just gave my True Name to Hermione, not that she was likely to abuse it, and if she did I had hers too, so not the end of the world. But…

    “Erm, hello?” While I was having my little panic attack I had apparently spaced out long enough for the gathered children to get worried. Hermione was actually waving her hand in front of my face. I gave her a quick nod before standing and offering Draco my hand.

    “Apologies, it’s been a long day. My name is Alex Potter. Nice to meet you.” I’m sure I was breaking a thousand pureblood decorum rules, by shaking his hand, but I had to get him out of here so I could think. Besides I was muggle raised, and I think that was a well-known fact, he probably expected me to walk with a limp and make a house-elf seem articulate, a little well-meaning faux pas was unlikely to hurt me in the long run. Still I made sure to mispronounce my name just in case. “Were you wanting to join my friend and I? I’m sure we can make room if you would like?”

    “And who’d this. I don’t recognize her and I know all the purebloods and half-bloods that are going to Hogwarts this year?” By the end of his question his mouth had started to twist into a sneer.

    “My name is Hermione, and of course you wouldn’t recognize me. I just heard about magic this past summer.” Hermione’s voice had taken on an offended tone. I guess she saw the sneer. Now how do I salvage this?

    “Yes Hermione’s the first witch in her family. Isn’t that exciting?” I gave Draco my biggest smile, inviting him to join in on my happiness at this exciting prospect. “So did you want to come in?” By implying just how ok I was with Hermione’s muggle-born statues I hoped to either convince him to leave or, if he stayed, caused him to sit in an awkward silence so I could have a chance to think.

    “No, no that’s ok I just wanted to introduce myself. Now that I’ve done that I’ll take my leave.” He beat a hasty retreat. Ha.

    “What was that all about?” Hermione, right. Some people are racist idiots. Now how to explain that to an impressionable eleven year old?

    “Umm, going by what I’ve heard. Some of the old pureblood families look down on first time witches.” There that works.

    “I know, Professor McGonagall mentioned it.” Oh well that’s good. “I was asking about you zoning out. Are you feeling ok?”

    “Noticed that did you? It was nothing.” A raised eye brow was her response. “Fine have you herd of True Names? When Draco was introducing himself he pronounced his name oddly and that made me wonder why. Which led to me think about True Names.”

    “Professor McGonagall said you should be careful when you introduce yourself, and never give out your middle name because a bad witch or wizard could use it against you. She said that as long as you do that you don’t have to worry.” Her voice had taken on a very prim and proper accent, making me think she was reciting the whole thing from memory.

    “Oh, huh, that’s good, worried for nothing I guess.” I wasn’t convinced, but it’s not like there was anything I could do about it now. Still, I resolved to mispronounce my name slightly when introducing myself from now on.

    888

    The rest of the train ride passed in a comfortable silence each of us, Hermione and I, lost in our respective books. Mine was first year charms and hers was Hogwarts: A History.
    It wasn’t till we were almost to Hogwarts that we changed into our robes, really we just pulled them over the cloths we were already wearing. Before heading out side after the train stopped.

    “So where do we go now?” Hermione sounded nervous. “The older students are already leaving. Should we follow them?” I was about to interrupt her when I heard Hagrid over the din of the gathered students.

    “First Years, first years”

    “I’m going to hazard a guess, that we go that way.” I gave a laugh at her ‘no really’ look.

    “Hagrid good to see you,” I sid, and it was. My run in with the red vampire was frightening in the extreme, even if it had nothing on Voldemort. It had, in fact, featured in several of my nightmares since then. But still it was nice to see him. Hagrid was a pleasant sort, tendency to blurt out incriminating evidence aside.

    “Alex good to see ya. Good to see ya. How have you been?” Hagrid seemed in a fine mood tonight.

    “Good and you?” I asked. I held out my fist to Hagrid, he seemed confused for a moment but started grinning as he remembered. We then preceded to fist bump. One fist hits the top of the other than repeat with the positions reversed and one more hit on the knuckles before pulling back and shaking your hand while making an exploding sound. We got more than a few odd looks.

    “All right everyone follow me.” Hagrid started down the road towards the, very big, lake. As Hermione and I got in to the canoes at the edge of the lake a dark haired kid approached us and asked if he could share our boat.

    “So what’s your name?” Hermione asked

    “Neville Longbottom…”

    Whatever else Neville said I couldn’t hear. Hogwarts had just come into view and my magic sense was practically deafened. It was intense, more so than Voldemort, a thousand times his power, but none of his vileness. I smelled books and ink, I tasted laughter and the relived-stressed feeling of a hard job finally completed. I was lost in a slew of sensations, most of which I could not identify. I don’t know how long I was out of it, but, after what seemed like hours, even if it could have only been a few minutes at most, I felt my self being studied by something. A sense of amusement pushed the rest of the sensations away, before fading away itself.

    By the time I came to we were already in the ante chamber leading to the Great Hall. I was giggling helplessly and the rest of the first years were sending me weird looks. Hermione at least looked concerned. That, for some reason, set off a whole new round of giggles before Professor McGonagall entered.

    I attempted to stop laughing, and I mostly succeeded as we entered the Great Hall, though some giggles escaped despite my best efforts, as we waited for the hat to stop singing.

    “Abbot Hanna…” Professor McGonagall held out a piece of parchment and stated calling out names. When she finally got to “Perks, Sally Ann,” I narrowed my eyes at the girl with sorting hat on her head. Bitch. I kept glaring at her as she went to the Hufflepuff table. Lazy Bitch.

    “Potter, Alexandrea,” I shook my head and headed over to the Sorting Hat, before taking a deep breath to try and settle my nerves. I sat on the stool and dropped the hat on my head.

    “My now isn’t this interesting? A past life, one in which this realty is a work of fiction. No, no you don’t need to worry I’m not biding my time to take over the world. I may be intelligent but I am not human. Ruling the world has no interest for me. Send you to Slytherin? Why would I do that your only ambition is to survive and kill Voldemort before he can kill you. You certainly have the loyalty of a Hufflepuff, willing to die for those you call your own, to kill for them. Your irrational hatred of Miss Perk aside, you are willing to help those who you don’t know, the mark of a true Gryffindor. You love learning and reading too much to be anything other than… Ravenclaw!”

    “Irrational my ass.” I muttered as I headed over to the Ravenclaw table after taking off the Sorting Hat. I was surprised to see Hermione there. How out of it was I?

    888

    It said something about how buzzed I was that it wasn’t until I was half way through my second glass of pumpkin juice that I realized what I was drinking. Ewee.

    “Water please,” no sooner had I asked then my goblet was replaced. “Thank you.”
    I took a moment to look around the Great Hall. It was amazing. High walls with, stone carvings of winged animals with fire hanging from their mouths and hundreds of candles floating around the room. Before disappearing into the night sky. Or, rather the enchanted ceiling.

    “Beautiful,” my voice was soft.

    “Rowena Ravenclaw enchanted it, I read about it in Hogwarts: A History,” Hermione’s voice, on the other hand, was very excited.

    “Decided you’d look better in blue, I take it” I teased her. My smile widened at her response.

    “I will have you know that the Sorting Hat said ‘if I didn’t go to Ravenclaw then he wasn’t doing his job right.” She finished with an offended huff. I guesses she had been really hoping for Gryffindor.

    “Funny he told me he had no interest in ruling the world.” I took far too much pleasure in her baffled look. I couldn’t help it I stared giggling, again. Hermione made a groaning sound.

    “Not again. I had to practically drag you out of the boat and poor Neville had to help and he almost dropped you in the lake. He spent the whole way in apologizing and you just kept giggling at him. What. Is. Wrong. With. You.” By the end she was almost growling. She was actually worried about me.

    “Sorry, I’m not sure what happened,” and wasn’t that the truth. “One moment I was fine the next I felt like I was hit with the world’s strongest tickling charm.” Which wasn’t quite what happened but, until I got to know Hermione better I wasn’t going to take any chances. There were enough differences with this universe that I was far from comfortable with simple trusting her, based solely on my half remembered memories of what she should be.

    I was saved from further questioning when Dumbledore stood and called for attention.
    “I have to say it is truly marvelous to see you all, new students and old, for another year here at Hogwarts. Some announcements, the Forbidden Forest, is as the name implies, forbidden. There are always some of you who like to challenge that rule,” He paused and looked meaningfully, over his half-moon spectacles, at the Gryffindor table. Where someone had stared whistling innocently. “The list of banned items has reached 654 and Mr. Filch has a complete list posted on his office door should you want specifics. One finial thing before I let you go. If you do not want to suffer a most horrible death stay out of the third floor corridor.”

    It was how calmly he said it, I think that set me off. I started giggling, again. Thankfully by then all the students were talking about it and I was safely ignored. By everyone except

    Hermione that is, she just shot me an annoyed look before rolling her eyes.

    888

    The Ravenclaw Perfects, Gerould Johnson and Sara Hemmingway, no relation, lead the first years through Hogwarts to Ravenclaw tower. It was such a long trek, and had so many stairs, that I was grateful when we finally arrived. At an eagle shaped door knocker. That asked us riddles, which we had to answer correctly if we wanted into the tower.
    This filled me with some dread. I was good at logic puzzles but riddles could be so convoluted as to be undecipherable. I was already picturing many a long hour spent outside the entrance waiting for someone else to come along and let me in.

    As I contemplated that horror, and planned some counter measures to fight the boredom that would ensue my enforced waiting time, we entered the common room.
    It was big, not half as big as the Great Hall, but large none the less. With a fire place on one side and a wall of books opposite it and various couches and chairs in-between. As well as two staircases going up. All done up in blue and bronze, Ravenclaw’s house colors.

    “You are all Ravenclaws so I should only have to say this once,” doesn’t Johnson sound friendly? “I expect that you will all keep your grades up E’s or better. If you need help there are tutoring sessions with the sixth year volunteers on Saturdays.”

    “What he means to say is, as Ravenclaws we know you are smart, you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. If you need help ask, and go to tutoring. If you get lost ask a portrait. Hogwarts has a tendency to change when you’re not looking and they are the only ones who can keep track of where things are at all times. I also recommend that you all do your homework together. If there are no more questions. The girl’s rooms are up the left staircase, boys to the right two to a room. You can decide who you want to room with. First years rooms are on the third floor. They will be your rooms for your entire stay here at Hogwarts.” With that Sara wished us good night and Hermione gave me a glance to which I nodded and started heading up the left stair case. Leaving the others to sort out who to room with among themselves.

    The room Hermione and I chose was a little more than twice the size of my room back at privet drive. There were two canopy beds with a window between them and desks on either the door.

    “So which bed do you want?” Hermione asked

    “I’ll take the one on the right.” As soon as I said that my trunk appeared at the foot of the, my, bed. Hermione made an affirmative sound, sounding more tired than I felt. It had been a very long day. “Goodnight Hermione.”

    “Goodnight Alex.”

    888

    Stairs were my greatest enemy in my last life and, even thou I’ve used my second chance at life to stay in shape, I still did not like them. Hogwarts was practically made of stairs. Not just normal stairs, but ones that made a habit of only being there for every third student or stairs that gained an inch in height when you least expected it. Not only that but entire staircases had a tendency to move, either when you were about to get on it or, after you were already on it. It was a miracle anyone made it to class alive, let alone on time.

    The Ravenclaw first years and I had taken nearly an hour to get to the Great Hall. We got lost three times and had to ask five different portraits for directions. One of them twice, we had somehow gone in a circle, before finally getting to breakfast.

    I was just finishing my breakfast when Professor Flitwick, who had introduced himself to the first years last night before the Perfects had taken us to the tower, came over. He was surprisingly spry for a three foot half goblin and he moved with a quick gait that ate up more ground than it looked like it should.

    “Miss Potter how are you this fine morning?” Professor Flitwick asked, perky did not even begin to describe how his voice sounded to me. No one should sound that happy in the morning. I mean I could be energetic in the morning but my first night in a new place and… “Miss Potter?”

    “Ah, sorry long night. I’m a little tired is all, but good and you?” I replied, really need to work on my spacing out thing.

    “I’m sorry to hear that. A new place, unfamiliar people, can make for a hard transition. If you want to talk please know that my door is open.” He was sincere as far as I could tell.

    “I will keep that in mind Professor. Are one of those my schedule?” I pointed the stack of parchment floating behind him.

    “What? Oh, oh yes here you are.” One of the schedules settled in front of me. “But that’s not why I’m here. Headmaster Dumbledore would like to speak with you in his office. After I finish handing out the schedules I’ll take you to speak with him.”

    “Ok Professor,” as he walked away I wondered what Dumbledore could want to talk to me about. I hadn’t even done anything yet.

    “Dumbledore want to talk to you already. What do you think it about?” Padma Patil asked managed to ask me seconds before Hermione. Who contented herself with a questioning nod in my direction. Though she gave Padma a look.

    “I don’t know. I couldn’t have done anything yet. I’ve been around y’all since I got here.” It should be noted that while I speak fluent British, when I’m stressed I have a tendency to slip into my American roots. I have thankfully been able to blame it on my, fabricated, love of country westerns. Thankfully no one noticed my slip but, I needed to be careful.

    “I’m sure it’s nothing. He probably just wants to see how I’m doing or something.” Way to sound confident.

    “You have to tell me how it goes. Maybe he knows why you couldn’t stop laughing yesterday and want to talk about it or maybe he’s going to...” Thankfully I was saved from more fun theories from Hermione when Professor Flitwick arrived.

    888

    The walk to Professor Dumbledore’s office was long and winding. How do people find their way in this place? Professor Flitwick and I spent it talking about charms. I was particularly interested in the ‘point me’ charm. I thought, as I told professor Flitwick, that if I used it correctly I could use it to help me when I was trying to find something specific in a book. He awarded me three points for ‘inventive use of a charm’ and then proceeded to show me spell made specifically for that purpose. Sadly it was outside of my current ability’s. But I made sure to memorize it as best I could for future practice. I was going to call it the google charm and it was going to be very useful. Once I could actually cast it.
    Our conversation lasted until we were standing in front of the gargoyle leading to Dumbledore’s office.

    “Lemon drops, I shall see you in charm’s class later today Miss Potter.” With that he waved goodbye and the gargoyle moved aside revealing a stair case leading up towards Dumbledore’s office. I narrowed my eyes.

    “Stairs,” after a moment of glaring at them I sighed and started to head up them. But no sooner had I started up, than the stairs started moving up. “Huh, was not expecting that.”
    I had reached the top of the stairs and was about to knock when I heard through the door.

    “Please come in Miss Potter.” The door opened before I could touch it.

    As I got my first look into Dumbledore’s office I decided that all the fanfics describing him as insane had to be right. There were toys and trinkets lined up on his shelves. Most of which were making some form of noise or another. Rows of Portraits lined the walls and their occupants were trying their best to appear asleep. In the middle of it all, behind a magnificent wooden desk sat Dumbledore, in all his twinkling glory.

    If my memories could be trusted, and increasingly it was looking like I should take them with a grain of salt, Dumbledore was a driving force in my life. It was at his behest that my parents went into hiding. It was his decision to send me to the Dursleys. Something that would have ended horribly if they were what canon portrayed them as. It was his wards that failed to protect my parents when Voldemort came for me.
    Dumbledore was a power. One who would be in my life whether or not I wanted him to be. If he was the manipulative schemer or the overtly evil dark lord behind the throne, as fanfiction so loved to portray him, I was in for a rough time. If, on the other hand, he was as he appeared to be, a well-meaning mentor, my path could be much smoother. Dumbledore would either be my greatest ally or my greatest enemy after, or perhaps surpassing, Voldemort. I just had to figure out which. Joy.
     
  3. Alexandercctv

    Alexandercctv Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 3:

    This Is Not The Headmaster You’re Looking For.

    “Hello Headmaster Dumbledore,” I said. Until I knew which version of Dumbledore I was dealing with it was best to treat him with the utmost politeness.

    “Please call me Professor. I consider myself an educator first and administrator second,” Dumbledore said in a genial voice.

    “Professor it is then,” I said. Trying to sound as respectful as possible.

    “Relax you’re not in any trouble, you haven’t been here long enough to get into any real fun yet.” Dumbledore said teasingly. I smiled and found myself relaxing in spite of myself. “I had actually called you in here to talk about your run in with the Red Court vampire,” and just like that I stiffened up again. “It is no small thing to stand up to an evil such as that.”

    “I don’t know what Hagrid told you but I was getting ready to run when he showed up.” I said. It wasn’t like I was going to be able to fight the dam thing. It threw me the length of the ally, with one hand, and I had used up my only weapon.

    “No wand, your only weapon expended and you were leaving a fight that could not be won with your current ability’s. Running was the correct course of action.” Dumbledore said. He paused a moment and seemed to debate something before continuing in a serious voice. “But that is not why I wanted to talk to you today. I wanted to assure you that you will not have any further problems from the Red Court.” He sounded very sure of that.

    “And if you have any problems sleeping because of this or just need some help dealing with it. I have informed Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, about your altercation, and she will be ready to help you.”

    “Thank you for telling me Professor.” I said. I still didn’t know what had caused the Red Court to try and kill me but unless Dumbledore decided to tell me, if he even knew, I was unlikely to find out why. Until such a time that I found out why I resolved to attribute it to the Red Courts war with the White Council making them uppity.

    “Now that that’s out of the way I couldn’t help but notice you seemed in an especially good mood last night. From what Professor McGonagall said you had to be helped from the boats and could not stop laughing. Do you have any idea why?” Dumbledore inquired. Well crap, I knew the first years had noticed my…episode, but I had hoped that it had escaped the notice of the professors. I gave a shy nod, it was pointless to lie, I was horrible at it and if he was half as good as I thought he was he would be able to see through any attempt to dissemble. Also this was a fairly small thing to reveal, if he reacted badly, or in a way I didn’t like than I would have evidence against trusting him with anything further.

    “I can sometimes feel things. I could feel something around my house and Diagon Ally, but they had nothing on Hogwarts,” I described. When Dumbledore nodded for me to go on. I continued, “It feels like a taste and a pressure at the same time. Usually unless I really focus on it I just get a slight feeling, but when Hogwarts came into view I was completely overwhelmed.” My voice was tinged with awe. Even now I was riding a slight buzz from the experience. For Hogwarts to affect me so much, when I wasn’t even trying to sense its magic, meant that this place was brimming with power.

    “I too had much the same reaction when I first came to Hogwarts.” Dumbledore said reminiscing. I arched my brow as I leaned forward, not having to feign interest. I was always interested in stories and Dumbledore was sure to have more than a few good ones.

    “Do you know what you are sensing?”

    “I’m almost certain it’s magic,” I said confidently. If I was wrong I would be very surprised.

    “It is indeed. The reason you had such a strong reaction to Hogwarts is because she’s built on a nexus of seven ley lines.” Dumbledore explained. At my only somewhat fake look of confusion he continued. “Ley lines are like rivers of magic. They flow all over the world and where they meet some of the most important and powerful places are built. Stonehenge and Hogwarts are simply a few of the most well-known examples of this. Building on a convergence of ley lines allows you to tap tremendous power but it can be very dangerous. Stonehenge hasn’t been used in over a thousand years because no one alive can handle the power involved.” Dumbledore said the last bit so softly I don’t think he realized I heard him. “At least not since the gods stopped responding.”
    Gods? I had been doing a lot of reading since my tripe to Diagon and I had learned a lot. I had confirmed the existence the Red, White and Black Vampire Courts and the multiple types of werewolves. Not to mention the Rival block of magic users that couldn’t use wands, couldn’t, not didn’t, it was an important distinction, the White Council. No mention was made of gods though. I would definitely need to look that up when I got the time.

    But for now I decided to ask Dumbledore a question I thought he would answer. “If it’s magic I’m sensing why do I feel it at home? As far as I know I’m the only witch there.” I asked. I was pretty sure that the wards were set up by either Dumbledore or that ritual mom performed before Voldemort killed her.

    It was odd, I remember that night in almost perfect detail. The feeling of the wards being torn down, my mother’s barely controlled movements and shaky voice as she begged for my life. The oppressive feeling of Voldemort’s magic as he calmly walked down the hall to my room.

    I could not remember any feeling from mom’s ritual. Noting at all, at the time I was more worried about Voldemort but looking back it was more than a little disturbing that I couldn’t feel anything from it. The ritual did something, as evidence of my continued existence, and I remembered the runic diagram disappearing but, magic wise, I felt nothing.

    Dumbledore gave me a considering look before responding. “I am sure that by now you have herd of your status as the Girl-Who-Lived,” at my confirming nod he continued. “The night Voldemort came to Godric’s Hollow your mother sacrificed herself for you. This act of pure love and sacrifice allowed you to survive the killing curse and left you a powerful protection from Voldemort in the form of blood wards.” I wonder if he actually believed that, he certainly seemed to but if he did than he probably knew nothing about mom’s ritual. “I added some of my own wards to the protection on Privet Drive but the majority of what your feeling comes from that night.”

    I nodded while absently wiping the tears that had started falling down my face. “Sorry just, I still remember them sometimes. A smell or a sound and it’s almost like there still here.” I said. I grabbed the handkerchief that Dumbledore had conjured and dried my eyes.

    “I understand my dear,” Dumbledore said, looking far older than when I first came in here. “Would you like a lemon drop?” Dumbledore asked. I nodded and reached into the bowel on his desk and grabbed one before popping it into my mouth. Mhmmm lemony.

    “Wait, she?” I asked. Was he talking metaphorically or was Hogwarts actually alive. I was curious and I wanted to move past the current topic.

    “Noticed that did you, Ravenclaw certainly suits you,” Dumbledore said, he seemed happy for the change of subject. “Yes I did say she, Hogwarts is in a very real sense alive. Being built on a nexus has made Hogwarts a genius loci.” Dumbledore paused and cast a spell. That cased the time to appear in the air as glowing numbers. “Unfortunately it is time for you to get to class.” I ended up leaving with a pocket of lemon drops.

    888

    I made it to Potions with a minute to spare. Luckily Hermione had saved me a spot.

    “How did it go,” Hermione asked softly. Professor Snape was not yet here but the dungeons did not lend themselves to loud voices or boisterous children. The potions class room in particular seemed designed to discourage such things.

    “I’ll tell you after class.” I answered just as softly. The surroundings were affecting me too. All the light in the room came from torches and there were jars filled with various dead and not so dead animals and plants. Ugh.

    “Ok,” Hermione said. That was all the talking we had time for as Professor swooped through the door, which slammed shut after he passed through, and stalked down the aisle to the front of the class. Where he pivoted on his heel and spent a long moment just glaring at the class. Until his gaze fell on me, I was leaning forward a quill in my hand and doing my best to look eager to learn, he blinked and almost seemed to smile. Ha, I love it when a plan comes together.

    “Potions is a subtle and precise discipline. Few of you will see the beauty of the simmering cauldron or the power that potions can wield. I will teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death. This is but a fraction of what potions can accomplish, what you can accomplish, if you’ve the mind for it.” Professor Snape’s voice was low, but I had no doubt that every student every student herd him clearly. He once again surveyed the room and, apparently satisfied with what he saw, continued. “This year will be different from my past attempts at teaching potions. We will meet three times a week and on Mondays we will discuss theory, on Wednesdays we will brew and on Fridays we will depending on how your latest attempt at brewing went either start a new potion or review what went wrong.” He finished. Looking none to happy at the new way of teaching the class.

    I narrowed my eyes, this was a big departure from his sink or swim take on teaching from the movies and fanfics. What could have caused this change? I thought for a moment before shrugging. Probably Dumbledore or one of the parents finally got tired of his old method and forced him to change it.

    “Now does anyone know why the number of stirs is important?” Professor Snape asked. What followed was a lively discussion on the inherent magic of certain numbers and why it was important to stir seven times not six or eight.

    888

    “I don’t know what the older students were talking about. Professor Snape is an amazing teacher. Oh this is so exciting I can’t wait to actually make a potion,” Hermione gushed. Professor Snape was indeed a surprisingly good teacher.

    “Me either. It seems Potions Class will be very interesting.” I said. We were on our way to Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. When Hermione stopped and turned to look at me. Giving me a searching look.

    “So you were going to tell me what Dumbledore wanted to talk about?” She asked. You don’t beat around the bush do you Hermione.

    “Yes I was.” I said as I started walking again. Hermione huffed before following. I stifled a smile, riling people up is fun, and Hermione was so vocal in her annoyance.

    “So…”Hermione asked.

    “Soooo…” I responded. A smile was fighting through my self-control.

    “What. Did. He. Want.” Hermione growled at me. The smile was, by this point, stretched across my face.

    “Oh that. Nothing really he just wanted to talk about my reaction to coming to Hogwarts,” I said.

    “Your reaction? You mean how you were acting like one of daddy’s patients after they’ve had some laughing gas, that reaction?” Hermione asked. The brightest witch of the age ladies and gentlemen.

    “Yes that reaction.” I said grimacing slightly. I was over it but the experience was intense and, had someone tried to do anything to me, I would have been helpless. The fact that anyone who tried something would have to go through all the teachers didn’t help. “He said that it had to do with my ability to sense magic. Since Hogwarts is built on a nexus of ley lines the ambient magic is orders of magnitude denser than most places.”

    “That makes sense. Those who sense magic are very sensitive to hot spots like Hogwarts.” Hermione said before something seemed to occur to her. “Wait that meant that you can sense magic.” She looked at me inquiringly and I nodded. “That’s really rare you know. There are less than a thousand people known to have that ability. Dumbledore’s one of them.” She sounded more excited about it than I was and I knew how useful it could be.
    By now we had entered the transfiguration classroom. The room was almost full, there were only a few tables open at the front near the desk which had a cat on it. My smile returned. We sat down at the table right in front of the desk.

    “We’re almost late.” Hermione fretted.

    “We can’t be late the Professors not even here.” I pointed out, my smile growing. A few minutes passed as we got our things settled.

    “Were do you think she is.” Hermione asked. By now most of the students had started talking amongst themselves and the Hufflepuffs were eyeing the cat. Please let one of them try and pet her, please.

    “It is the first day of term, Professor McGonagall is probably just giving everyone time to
    get to class.” I said. One of the Hufflepuffs, I’m not sure which one it was, had gotten up and was heading towards the front desk while eyeing the cat. Yes, just a little further. Just one stoke of the cat, please. I was staring at the Hufflepuff, my grin stretching from ear to ear. Hermione, who had been focused on getting her supplied set out until now, looked at me before turning slightly to look at the Hufflepuff.

    “What are you smiling at, Alex,” Hermione asked me suspiciously, her eyes narrowed slightly. Only a day and she knew me so well. I shook my head and motioned for her to be quite. Just a step away now, just a little closer.

    Sadly it was not to be. As soon as the Hufflepuff was within touching room, professor McGonagall transformed. Flowing seamlessly from cat to human. Casing the poor kid to squeak and fall backwards.

    “Miss Perks are you alright?” Professor McGonagall asked. At Perks affirming noise she continued. “Then please return to your seat.” McGonagall’s voice was stern but tinged with kindness. I narrowed my eyes slightly. Perks.

    “Now that we are all in our correct places we can begin,” Professor McGonagall said looking around the room. Less intense than Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall had none the less won the class’s complete attention. Animagi, people with the ability to turn into animals or rather one animal, were rare. Unlike my metamorphmagus ability’s, Animagi were taught rather than born, most simply lacked the skill and dedication to learn it. I planned to be one of them. “For your first lesson you will attempt to turn a matchstick into a needle, the incantation is acus and the wand movement is a slight downward thrust at the match. Please begin.” Professor McGonagall instructed.

    I would like to say I managed it on my first try. I would like to say I did it by my twentieth try. Unfortunately it was not until five minutes before class ended that I finally managed to do more than make my matchstick slightly sliver. Nearly ten minutes after Hermione managed to fully change hers into a needle, netting Ravenclaw five points. Still, once I did it the first time, I managed to turn it back and forth a few times before class let out.

    “For those of you who did not manage to transfigure your match you will need to turn in three inches on the subject, dew next class.” Professor McGonagall said as we put our supplies away. Wait, inches?

    Hermione was finished packing up and was standing waiting for me. I motioned for her to wait a moment and waited for the class to file out. “Professor McGonagall?” I asked. She turned to look at me.

    “Yes Miss Potter?” She asked.

    “Umm, I know I managed to transfigure the match, but for future reference. When you say inches you don’t mean that like pages thick right?” I ask nervously, because seriously if she does that insane. Professor McGonagall arched her brow.

    “And if I do?” She seemed amused. Amused was good, that probably meant that she did not in fact mean to inflict carpal tunnel on poor unsuspecting students.

    “If you did, I think my hands may well fall off before Christmas.” I said seriously. I did really think my hand would fall off if I had to write that much.

    “Well we can’t have that, can we? No for future reference, when I say inches I mean down the length of the parchment not inches thick.” She said. I nodded relived and turned around to join Hermione for lunch.

    888

    “I can’t believe you thought Professor McGonagall meant three inches thick.” Hermione teased me. I may be a bad influence on her. She had teased me all the way through lunch and now that we were in Defense Against the Dark Arts she, thankfully, seemed to be losing steam.

    I was not looking forward to this class. Despite all the differences this world had to offer Quirrell was still the Defense Professor. Which made it an almost certain fact that he was possessed by Voldemort. If this was true I was in for a major headache when my cursed scar reacted to him. It hadn’t happened at dinner last night but maybe it was proximity based, or he was just hesitant to try something so close to Dumbledore.

    Sitting there in that class room was nerve racking. The person who killed my parents was sitting right there and there was nothing I could do about it except play dumb.

    “Good afternoon class,” Quirrell said smiling. His turban a dark green, matching his robes. “Please turn your books to page 245 well be talking about…”

    The rest of the lesson continued but I barely paid attention. I couldn’t take my eyes of him, though I did keep my head turned towards my book. Periodically he would look at me but I was never called on. It was odd Quirrell seemed normal, he smiled and laughed. He shared stories relating to the lesson and all around seemed very personable. It was disturbing.

    It was not until diner that night that I figured out what had been bothering me about Quirrell. Throughout the entire lesson he didn’t stutter. That did not bode well.

    888

    Do you know what the most disturbing thing about knowing the future is? Finding out that your information is wrong. Not all wrong, no that would be too easy. At least if all your supposed knowledge was wrong you would be in the same boat as everyone else. My memories were close enough for me to still cling to them but off just enough to make me doubt every decision and assumed fact that I thought I knew.

    For example Charms class with Professor Flitwick was almost exactly as I pictured it. Charms class started with Professor Flitwick showing us the charm we were expected to learn today and then we spent the rest of the time practicing the spell. With Professor Flitwick walking around giving advice.

    It was easily one of my favorite classes. Much more entertaining than history, I swear I saw Binns smile as the class began dropping fast asleep not ten minutes into his lecture. It didn’t feel like grunt work as Herbology did. Nor as gross as rendering ingredients down for Potions class and it was at a reasonable time, unlike astrology.

    All this fit my expectations of what Hogwarts was going to be like as I planned how to
    survive Voldemort. What did not fit my expectations was Quirrell acting like a good teacher. He was clear and engaging, each class would have been both enjoyable and informative, if I had been able to focus on it. Each class was a trial, I spent more time trying to decide if Quirrell was indeed possessed by Voldemort than listing to the lessons.

    It had been nearly three weeks since the start of term and at this point I couldn’t tell if he was possessed or if he was just a good teacher. It was freaking me out enough that I had had to go to Madam Pomfrey for a calming drought twice to help me sleep.

    At any rate it was the day of our first flying lessons and I was looking forward to it. I had bought a Nimbus 2000, with a shrinking spell already placed on it, on my trip to Diagon with Hagrid. I bought it as a way to get away from, well, anything I didn’t think I could actually beat in a fight. Unfortunately I had no idea how to use it. So for now it sat uselessly in the hart locket I wore every day.

    “I still don’t see why we need to learn to fly. It’s practically a useless unless you’re going ride professionally,” Hermione groused. Hermione was not looking forward to flying lessons. The past few days had seen some version of this complaint repeated more than a few times. When she wasn’t complaining about the approaching flying lesson she was obsessively reading Quidditch: Through the Ages as if she could learn flying from a book.

    “It’s like P.E classes, pointless but required,” I said. Hermione had complained so much the last few days that the other Ravenclaw first years had started avoiding her, and since I spent most of my time with her, they were avoiding me as well. It was a little annoying. I had started making friends with them, Padma in particular. Still I had expected it so I wasn’t too mad.

    The entire first year class were waiting outside for Madam Hooch to show up. I was somewhat concerned about that. From my memories, and confirmed by Hogwarts: a History, flying classes for first years were usually held for no more than two houses at a time. Something was had caused this but what that was I had no idea. Until Quirrell walked onto the field.

    “Madam Hooch is unable to teach class today or for the rest of the month. So I, and the other Professors, will be filling in as our schedule allows.” Quirrell announced to the gathered first years. That more than a little concerning, magical healing was amazing. Broken bones could be healed within a few days and most diseases were fought off by our natural magic. Anything that could put a witch out of commission for a month without killing her was unlikely to be the product of an accident. “Alright everyone pick a broom and hold your wand hand out over it and commanded it into your hand. Say up.”

    I gave Quirrell one last look before moving over to my broom and saying “UP,” it slammed into my hand. I smiled and looked over at Hermione. Her broom was wiggling around on the ground. She was growing frustrated as evidenced by her increasingly frizzy hair and reddening face. “Hermione,” she ignored me. “Hermione, HERMIONE,” I said just under a shouting voice.

    “What!” Hermione said, her voice just as loud.

    “When you say, up, it’s not an invitation or a please, it is a command. You are ordering it to obey you. Like this.” I said putting my broom back on the ground. Before commanding “UP,” it slammed into my palm. “Now you try. Remember command, you are in charge.” I put my broom in my other hand, that had actually hurt.

    Hermione nodded and turned towards her broom. She took a deep breath and Said “UP,” and up it went. She smiled before turning to look at me, her smile dropping.

    “Yes, very good work Miss Granger,” Quirrell drawled, from right behind me. My heart pounding I spun around, the knife I now kept in my sleeve falling into my hand and dropping my broom I twitched my arm just so and my wand came out from my wand holster.

    My muscles tensed and ready to move. I waited for a moment just staring a Quirrell. A considering look passed over his face so fast I almost convinced myself I imagined it, before a slightly mocking smile settled on his mouth. “Did I startle you Miss Potter?” Quirrell said, tilting his head slightly.

    I was tense my breath came in slow gasps and all he did was smile, bastard. I relaxed and took a calming breath. It was unlikely he would try something here with this many witnesses, and witnesses was the best these kids could hope for if he tried. No, let’s be honest if he decided to kill me he would there would be no try about it. I redubbed my resolve to fix this gap. Tonight. I would start tonight.

    With one more deep breath I was finally able to look away from Quirrell. Only to find the entire first year staring at me. Joy. Quirrell gave me one last look and walked away. I put my knife and wand away before saying, “UP,” catching the broom I got back in line.

    “Are you ok?” Hermione asked concerned. Her face drawn in worry.

    “No, but I will be,” I said forcing a smile. By now the rest of the class had started focusing on their brooms. Though I heard whispers of my name passing from their mouths.

    “Thank you for asking,” Hermione did not look convinced but nodded and started focusing on Quirrell.

    “All right students now that you have your brooms please mount them.” Quirrell instructed. He walked down the lines giving advice and correcting the students form as necessary. “Now gently kick off the ground.”

    Following Quirrell’s instructions the class pushed off and started hovering. Unfortunately Neville didn’t stop at hovering. Once Neville was in the air he quickly lost control of his broom. He shot up nearly fifty feet before the broom seemed to buck him off. He hit the ground arm first and everyone heard a sickening crunch as he hit.

    After the scare that Quirrell gave me it was a good thing I was close to the ground, because as I heard Neville hit the ground I fell from my broom as well. The noise making me nauseously dizzy. Fortunately for me the ground was close and my stomach settled quickly.

    By the time I looked up, Quirrell had already spelled Neville to float behind him and was walking to the castle. He called out, before entering the castle, for everyone to stay on the ground.

    “Look what poor Neville dropped,” Draco Malfoy said as he walked over to the Gryffindor
    area of the courtyard. I sighed, I did not want to deal with this.

    Accio remembrall,” Hermione said. I stared at her, when the hell had she learned that. Harry didn’t even learn that until fourth year. I knew that she had been pushing herself to keep ahead of me. I was seconded in the first year grades wise, but to learn that after only being here for a few weeks, was more than impressive. “Leave Neville’s things alone Malfoy.”

    Where was this coming from? I mean yes Hermione was more confident than her movie counterpart but this was not what I expected from her at this age. I shook my head. I guesses I underestimated her.

    “What do you think you are doing mu-muggle born,” Draco said sneering, moderating his language at the last second.

    “I was stopping you from bulling poor Neville,” Hermione said, her face turning red.

    “And what business is it of yours what I do, muggle born?” Draco said his face inches from Hermione’s. I was tempted to let this continue but both of them were head strong and convinced they were in the right. This needed to stop and sadly there wasn’t a teacher in sight. So I needed to stop this before Hermione did something that she would regret. Right now she didn’t care about points but when she calms down she’ll be distraught.

    “Ok this is…” I tried to say before Hermione interrupted me.

    “It’s my business because Neville is a nice person and I won’t let you bully him.” Hermione shouted.

    “That’s enough…” I tried again.

    “Oh fancy him do you,” the gathered students gasped “I see you want to be the hero and give poor Neville his little ball. So maybe he will take pity on a poor penniless muggleborn and ask you out is that your plan?” Draco asked his voice sneering. Ok that is more than enough and I was about to put Draco on his ass when Hermione yelled.

    “Take. That. Back.”

    “Make me,” Draco said.

    “Ok I will,” Hermione said reaching for her wand.

    “Not here you uncouth barbarian. In a proper duel, tonight, midnight the third floor
    corridor.” Draco said the last bit at a near whisper.

    Hermione look uncertain before responding “Fine, tonight.”

    MotherF...
     
  4. Valor

    Valor Versed in the lewd.

    Joined:
    Feb 8, 2015
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    The first chapter is gruesome. Please clean it up.