Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I was falling. 

(deep. dark. so dark.)

There was a feeling of being airborne, first. Like when you lift your feet into a ghost step, just that tug on your heart and stomach, then came the fall. 

(why is it so quiet?)

So so dark and silent but loud like the wind too. And I was still falling. Grasping at nothing. Where was my body? 

My hair wasn’t rushing, not like the wind and crash and loud and quiet in my ears (how is it silent and loud?) where was I? What are the lights? 

Orbs of lights dancing in front of my face. (so pretty)

Pretty, very pretty. 

I was already starting to get resigned to the eternal falling, to the mix of oversensitivity and numbness when everything fell into place. 

Like I was a rubber band being pulled and finally releasing the stress and falling back into place. 

When I blinked, it was a blurry sight. (nothing new, I did need my glasses in the morning, after all.)

Still trying to regain my breath, I resisted the urge to rub my chest to rid myself of the feeling you have when you wake up from a dream of falling. It was once I reached for my glasses that realized something was wrong. 

First of all, my arm felt… numb. (?) As if I had fallen asleep on it, but if that wasn’t weird enough, I finally realized that there wasn’t a fucking side table. 

In fact, there wasn’t a fucking bed either. 

Now, I didn’t want to admit it, but between you and me, I only really realized that I was a goddamn baby because when I yelped, I actually didn't… yelp. I wanted to! It’s what I was going for! But my infant body responded to my distress by wailing the breath out of me. 

No, really. 

I couldn’t breathe with how hard I was crying. 

There were… sigh. There were hiccups.

Full-blown infant hiccups between wailing. I even gave myself a headache, which only made me cry more. Because, you know… baby brain. 

It was mid baby-meltdown that I had the first glimpse of my frazzled mother. I say glimpse but I mean more like blur. 

“Shh. Shh. You’re ok, Lils, you’re ok. shh, shh.” 

She was warm when she picked me up and tucked me against her neck, swaying gently and humming something that instantly had me quieting down. Even as I was still freaking out, because holy shit I was getting picked up and I was a baby, but like magic, I was lulled into calmness. 

The woman felt safe and warm and she gave the best back rubs and pats, and her humming seemed to have some goddamn effect too because the vibrations of her chest had me nearly melting, but seeing as that was impossible, I settled on sagging completely against her. 

“There’s a good girl, Lils.” If I cooed in wonder at her raspy voice, that was my business and my fucking business alone, alright? 

When she (unfortunately) pulled away, I got a glimpse of light brown hair pinned up, and dark eyes. My vision hadn’t sharpened yet, but I knew she was beautiful. The woman stared at me, and we both took a moment to be in awe of each other after she gently settled me back, running a warm finger on my chubby cheek and smiling when I instinctively tried to grab it.

Then, she was gone and I was left to contemplate my new position. 

So… A baby. 

Um… A baby in… Scotland? Honestly, English had not been my first language and accents were not my thing. I knew it wasn’t American, but I could not for the life of me figure out if the accent was Irish or Scottish. 

Either way, it was far from home.

Chapter Text

So, I figured out a few things after a while.

First, my new mom (because I was surprisingly ok with finding out I was getting a second shot at life, hey it’s not like I remembered most of my first life, either way) was an absolute darling. 

No, really. Bless her soul. 

The woman was gorgeous (as I guessed, which made me a little excited for selfish reasons of: me also being pretty this time around if the gods were good), she sang to me softly in a language I did not recognize but had a very Celtic feeling to it, she was warm and liked to carry me around while doing chores and always nuzzled my hair with her warm nose and gave me bum pats that always lulled me calm. 

She was just so… urgh, so affectionate and gentle. And goddamnit alright my previous parents were lukewarm at best and terrifying at worst, and I was milking the affection and love, alright? Hop off my nonexistent dick- sorry, cock. Gotta get the lingo right. 

Second, we lived in Scotland and I had also gone back in time. I tried not to think much about it, I was too busy napping and receiving affection either way, so it was whatever, not thinking about how that was possible. 

Third, I didn’t have a dad. 

I probably should, but… I didn’t care. I just didn't. Leanna was enough- more than enough, actually. Was I a little curious? Oh yeah, mostly because I wanted to know if he died, left mum, or didn’t know about me, but my beautiful mother never badmouthed or uttered his name, nor in respect nor in anger or shame, so it was up in the air, but I could live with it. 

Fourth, my name was Lilium. 

Fucking- 

Lilium . 

Pronouced Lily-uhm.

I won’t lie to you, chief, I was not excited about starting school again. That name was going to get me so much shit. Urgh.

She uttered reverently about what it meant, that it was an ancient constellation for the flower Lily but it did not sweeten me to the name. Even more so when she told me it was part of the Musca Constellation… The fucking fly constellation. It wasn’t even in fucking use! Whatever. Whatever! I only answered to Lily or Lils, anyways. And if people insisted on calling me by Lilium I’d just kick them in the shins, so it was fine… It was! Urgh, fucking whatever. 

And thus far, my life was pretty much that. 

Discover new things, receive affection, and then sleep. 

Really, no one talks about how tiring it is to be a baby! Honestly, if I wasn’t bored, I was tired, if I wasn’t tired, I was bored. It was a tiring cycle, I was teething (it hurt like a fucking bitch but I took it like a champ) and all of that was what pushed me to try to crawl around my crib and talk. 

I didn’t have the talking part down yet, my tongue just did not work how I wanted, and most of the time all that came out was senseless babbles, but mum seemed happy and entertained me with full one-sided conversations all the same as I made noises that fit the mood.

“What a shame there isn’t another book! What do you think, little star?” 

Thoughtful babbles “Well, it wasn’t well-received, from what you said, mum. ”

“I know, I know. I’m just sulking.” She smiled amusedly as I blew raspberries, pursing her lips and pressing a kiss to my forehead, carrying on with her tirade as I babbled in response. 

It was how most of our talks went, and even though I couldn’t really engage, I still loved hearing her talk, and could only hope to have the same raspy tone. 

Either way, time had begun passing. 

My vision had sharpened a few months back, and I was already able to lift my own head when we got a visitor, my first one, actually. 

Now, I’m not saying that I probably had a troubled aunt… but I had a troubled aunt. 

My hearing wasn’t good enough to completely understand it from far away, but my aunt was not supposed to be in our little flat, something about not being safe for either of us, there was an argument about her meeting me, mum was pissed off, she was hissing a lot of words, but apparently my aunt won out. 

She was also a very beautiful woman, younger than my mother by a few years, light golden hair in a long mullet, which was an absolute win in my books, even if she seemed to be under a perm, she wore a leather jacket with pins and spikes, her shirt had holes in it, though they looked like it was on purpose, and she had the same eyes as mum.

When she held me she cried. (she smelt of ashes, ozone, and blood under the jasmines and leather.)

I didn’t learn her name, and whenever I tried to soothe her by being fucking cute, she just cried harder, so I stopped and squirmed until my mom muttered about that being enough and cradled me protectively against her chest. 

She left shortly after and mum spent the rest of the week under the weather. 

So, troubled aunt. 

Mum seemed to realize how curious I was after a while because she would amusedly hand me kiddy books and watch me read them, even if they were stupid. Because at least it was something to do. 

I could already somewhat sit on my own and stand on my own chubby legs if I was grabbing something when I decided that it was time. Phew, time for a big fat ‘mama’. 

I had no way of telling the time, how long it had passed, just that I assumed I wasn’t one yet, seeing as mum hadn’t said anything, but it seemed safe enough to do it. Besides, I was a fucking baby with somewhat memories of my past (future?) life, I’m sure some babies are just that smart too. 

So, one day, right after bath and play/learn time, when she had placed me on my mat in the flat’s living room, just as she opened her book, I sat up by myself, smacked my lips, raised my chubby arms and squealed in delight.

“Mama! ” 

I’m not saying I was proud of making my mum cry but… Oh, who was I kidding, I was absolutely delighted that she cried. 

She even dropped her book! 

Granted, she stared at me for a good forty seconds until I squealed the word again and clapped my hands waiting for another acknowledgment, but even before I was finished clapping, I was being lifted again and rewarded with wet kisses and with her giddily spinning us around. 

(So worth it.)

Then came the little milestones, you know. 

First step, more words, starting to eat more solid foods (thank fuck), walking, then running around, my birthday, which (surprisingly), was still the same as the before, September the 6th, then mum started working again and I was being dropped off with the elderly neighbor that loved to coo over the sight of me with big kids books (she hadn’t caught on that I was actually reading and not just imitating mum).

She didn’t seem really surprised by it, actually. Mum, that is. When she caught me reading one of the more advanced books from the shelves I could reach. Awed and proud? Sure, but not really surprised. 

Though I still made sure to babble questions about words I didn’t understand- my English had been good, not great, alright? So maybe she just accepted better with all the aid I’d need sometimes. (I was also picking up the accent, so hooray!)

When I wasn’t reading, I was drawing (very badly, if I might say so), or if I wasn’t entertaining myself quietly, I’d be running to my mum’s legs demanding affection I was freely and happily given.

Then ‘81 arrived. 

It had been a normal day, nothing in the air when mum kissed my nose and dropped me with our neighbour, no foreboding feeling, no bad vibes, but a few months before my second birthday, mum was late to pick me up. 

I didn’t think anything of it at first. Sure, it wasn’t normal, but it also wasn’t completely weird. Maybe she got held back at the library, it had happened before, after all. 

But when dinner time arrived and Mrs. Vass received a phone call and kindly told me I was spending the night, I got a little worried. 

Had something happened to mum? It couldn’t. I refused to accept it. So I had stubbornly refused to eat and sleep, continuously sneaking back to wait by the door, because mum wouldn’t leave me. Would she? No. No, she wouldn’t.

I felt a little bad for old Mrs. Vass for having to deal with my silent stubbornness, but I wanted my mommy and damn it if I’d break my protesting for her return just because the sweet old lady was sending me worried looks. It wasn’t just that I was spending the night, it was that she wouldn’t tell me if my mum was ok and safe, she’d just say she couldn’t tell me! So yeah, I felt only a little bad. 

If I cried when mum weakly knocked on the door at lunch the next day, it wasn’t anyone’s business. 

It was night when she held me, bringing me to her bed and brushing my hair away from my face, that she quietly cried and whispered that my aunt and grandparents had passed away the day before. 

Mum didn’t go into detail. She wouldn’t. Why would she? I was a child. I didn’t pry, I just hugged her tighter and pretended not to feel her shaking and the tears wetting my hair. 

The next morning, while mum was still sleeping, I sneaked to Mrs. Vass and quietly asked for breakfast because mum wasn’t feeling well and she deserved to rest. The sad glint in her eyes told me that she knew what had happened, but she didn’t ask anything else, just sent me on my way with two plates. 

It was… Rough.

It was rough. Mum lost her little sister and parents in one night, she whispered about a fire, but something in the strain of her voice had me feeling like that wasn’t all that happened, but I let it go and tried not to feel hurt as she couldn’t look at me for a little while. 

(I didn’t understand until a while later when I could finally reach the sink by myself and look into the mirror only to see a blonde mane so alike my aunts and grandparents.)

But mum was strong and with the help of old Mrs. Vass, she started to heal. It wasn’t easy, and my birthday was a little somber with no eccentric gifts from the grandparents I never met and from the troubled aunt like the year before, but seeing as it was just mum, me, and Mrs. Vass, I understood. 

Besides, I still got some random gifts from my aunt’s friends, not that I care more than being able to be curled on my mother’s lap.

Then the months started to pass weirdly fast, and next I knew I was starting primary. 

“Do I have to?” Was my go-to whine whenever the subject was brought up after my fourth birthday, knowing that since I was a September kid, I still had a year to convince my mum to just… not… do it. Maybe homeschool me. 

“Yes, you have, little star. You can’t just have mommy as your friend. Don’t you want other friends?” My nose wrinkled at that before I sighed dramatically from my chair (it had been my birthday gift, a reading chair of my own so I could finally leave the floor to be with her when I wanted to read), ignoring her quiet laughter as I pouted. 

“No, I don’t. Mommy is enough of a friend for me, why would I want to be friends with some snot covered brat?” 

“You’re a snot covered brat.”

“Am not!” 

“Are so.”

“Mum!”

(I lost the argument, and the next year I ended up having to be surrounded by the whiny snot covered brats, as expected.) 

I never hated children, for real. Had no problem with them, but the perspective of having to spend the whole day around them was nerve-wracking. But mum was right about a thing, I was needing to socialise with peers “my age”, it gave me a glimpse of just how odd I acted. 

That was probably why mum had insisted on it, to be honest. Not really for my smarts, she was proud of her ‘mini-genius’, but my lack of other toddlers and children to talk to showed, alright. 

To most adults it was cute, like I was mum’s mini-me, a tiny adult, a temper tantrum free child, but wow… How mum didn’t demand an exorcism was a surprise. It had never dawned on me that I shouldn’t speak like I did, but honestly? Mum’s fault, and she took pride in saying that it was because she’s been holding conversations with me since forever. 

But hey, at least primary was a nice training. I don’t remember being very social in my past life- I was what my friends would call a closeted introvert, meaning that I could socialize, I just didn’t do it much, but with how I acted, me being an introvert just went over people’s head. It wasn’t hard, in my defense. 

It was the “we’re already friends” rule I went by. If you meet someone, or someone goes to talk to you, just act as if they’re already your friend, be nice, smile a lot, and bam! No enemies, and maybe you can even actually find a true friend with that technique. The ‘fake it til you make it’ was real and it worked, alright. 

If I skipped a few grades and still made friends with the older kids, then at least mum didn’t have to worry about me getting picked on (much) for being the youngest.

Honestly, seven-year-olds were so fucking mean. Jesus. 

Which I’ll vehemently blame on what happened until the end of my days. 

Again, I found out that the big things happened on the days I least expected. It started as usual, mum woke me up, we ate breakfast, she dropped me off on her way to work, and I moved to socialise with my peers. 

It was honestly going well, the day even started as normal, classes progressed as they normally did, until they didn’t. 

To be fair, I can’t really just blame Archie. He too was a kid, a little shit of a kid, but a kid nonetheless. I blame him for the gum in my hair when I was supposed to be helping him, and I blame Scotland for the shitty weather, and I blame the child brain, and the world for making me arrive home stressed, with gum in my hair, soaked wet and just overall pissed off.

Mum was trying to placate me, but she didn’t have the experience to deal with tantrums or me being generally in a sour mood, seeing as I had been a good baby and only cried when in need of something, and had gotten the communicating my needs with words pretty early on. 

I loved the woman, but she was hovering, and I just wanted to shower and rip my hair out and free of the fucking gum, and to eat and my books were wet, ruined my homework and I didn’t want them fucking wet!

So imagine my surprise when my books caught on fire out of nothing in the middle of the living room. 

Very… Uh- Yeah. 

It was an even bigger surprise when mum just sighed tiredly and put it out with a towel, not an ounce of surprise or fear, she was just resigned.

“Wha- What?! ” My voice was shrill and I might’ve burst into tears hard enough for mum to pick me up and rock me from side to side. 

“Shh, it’s ok. You- I- I was waiting for something like this- Well, you just- You were such a calm baby! I thought-” Leanna sighed again, still rocking me when she sat on her reading chair, rubbing soothing circles between my shoulders when I hiccuped. “Breathe, little star, it’s ok.” 

“Did I do that?” Mum pressed a kiss to my brow, nodding gently as I sniffled, pressing my face against her neck and feeling an odd shake starting to take over my chubby body. “What’s wrong with me!? ”

Leanna squeezed me tighter, one of her warm hands raising to squeeze the nape of my neck to get me to back off so I could stare at her hard brown eyes.

“Nothing is wrong with you, Lilium, do you hear me? Nothing.” She shakes me a little when my eyes fill with tears again, because holy shit. I think she misinterpreted my crying again for being scared when I was in fact just a little overwhelmed about being loved like this. “Mommy needs you to take a deep breath, yeah? She has a story to tell you.” 

And so that was how I found out about magic, and that bloody hell, I was in a fictional world. A fucking. Fictional. World. 

I might’ve hysterically laughed throughout most of the explanation and mum had to pause to watch me transition from laughing to crying to calm me down and carry on telling me about her family. About our family, about Death Eaters, and how mum had to stay away from her parents and her sister because she was a squib. It was… a lot. 

She told me how I had done accidental magic before, how I’d keep hiding her books in my room when I was in the crib, so she’d be around me (I always thought she was always so forgetful about them), but that she couldn’t be sure, and she told me about Hogwarts, the stories she heard from her little sister, about Harry fucking Potter defeating you-know-who, how she wanted to shelter me from this world for a little longer, but that she had an idea I’d find out sooner than later, with how fast I learned and matured. 

Mum didn’t tell me about my father or more about our massacred family. I didn’t ask. 

I didn’t think I’d be able to handle any more information, either way. 

That night, I went to sleep with thoughts of what it meant to me all the knowledge I had, and what I’d do with it. 

One thing was set on stone, though. Things would not be the same. 

Because guess what?

Fuck Canon .

Chapter Text

Alright, I was a little ashamed to admit it, but it did take me a few months to come to terms that magic was real and so was the Harry Potter universe, and that I was a part of it. 

But when it finally dawned on me that yes, it was real and my family had been massacred by fucking Voldemort, and if I survived until the seventh book, I'd be a part of a fucking war and my mother would be in danger because she was a squib? Oh, then I was stomping to my sweet mother demanding to get magical books because no one would hurt her like they hurt my aunt and grandparents. 

I wouldn't fucking let them. 

I don't know what she saw when I made my demand, but her eyes watered and her smile turned sad before she nodded. 

"I'll see if I can find Lene's old school books. You will not be practising anything until your magical core has strengthened and settled, until you've gone to Hogwarts, but I don't see a problem in you reading the theory behind them." 

With a frown and a pout, I nodded in return and stomped back to my room to search for that tingly sensation I had felt when I set the book on fire. 

For all the fanfiction I've read on magic, nothing ever described how bothering it was to have magic. 

Maybe it was because I didn't know how to grasp it, and maybe my discomfort was a phantom one, but bloody fucking damnit! It was irksome to know it was there but out of fucking reach. 

How fucking bothersome.

It's not like I had found where it started, and it had been months of me trying! The only times I'd feel the shock of magic was when I'd get frustrated at my lack of finding said magic and ended up doing accidental magic because I'd get pissed off. 

It was only when I drenched my room that I put a stop to my search. Mum was not happy with my secret lessons and ended up confiscating the first year books I was in the middle of, and I got grounded for the first time in this life. 

It had been a little humbling too when she dragged me to our downstairs neighbour to see the damage my accidental magic had caused, and I had to clean the room and drown in the guilt of mum having to work overtime to pay for the repair of the man's music equipment. 

Not my best moment. 

Either way, a lesson is a lesson and at least I understood what mum had meant with 'unstable magical core'. Sure, I couldn't look at her or our downstairs neighbour for about two weeks, but I learned! And! Mr. Dupret taught me the guitar! 

So instead of searching for my magic I just settled on learning the guitar and meditating (under mum's careful eyes, of course). I wasn't really aiming for anything, just kinda making sure I didn't have another one of the scary episodes where I either made it rain or put things on fire. 

It was on my eighth birthday that I was allowed to read the books again, only took a few years, ey?

The only shame about mum being a squib was that she didn't have any wizarding friends, and most if not all of my aunt's friends had died in the war, so it wasn't like she could call any of them for help or to answer my questions. It also came with the bad side of living in Scotland and not having a floo network, which meant that I had yet to visit Diagon Alley. Though mum did say that her sister and parents used to either use the floo from my grandparent's house or one of the magical apothecaries nearby. 

I had a feeling that mum just didn't want to take me there yet, which as a great daughter (cough cough), I didn't call her out on. It's not like I couldn't see her fear about me being a witch. 

It wasn't because I was a witch, per se. But for all that her parents and sister didn't completely cut her out, she was still left aside for being a squib. She didn't hate them for it, especially when she knew what could've happened to her had she been born in another family, but there was an undeniable gap between her and the magical world. Her fear of me drifting away was valid, but unfounded seeing as only in death would she get rid of me, no matter what. 

It had taken me another year of meditation to finally start separating what I remembered as canon and fanon from the HP universe. If I had to describe how my memories of everything had been, I'd say that they reminded me of two yarns of wool that were tangled and I couldn't distinguish one from another. I'd try to pull one and then I'd realise that I was in fact, pulling the other. 

It helped to go through what I remembered and pin them to one of the yarns. Then, just for funsies, once I got most of my memories from the books and movies, I used the yarn to make a fetching scarf. It was stupid, but hell, if me imagining putting the scarf didn't help me remember canon. 

I didn't do anything with the fanon yarn, it was longer (so fucking long it had me embarrassed) so I had a hard time making anything with it. So I just shoved the yarn in a wooden box that reminded me of the box mum had for pieces of scrap. I didn't care if it tangled or knotted, it's not like I'd have any use for the fanon idea of lordships and whatnots (I considered everything I didn't read in the books fanon, so with no memories of Lord Malfoy and shit happening in the books, into the fanon yarn it went). 

I didn't think much of it, just kinda did. 

Then the wooden box went under the nonexistent bed. It had been a little hard to remember everything I had read and watched of this universe in the middle of all my past life memories and of the new ones. 

If I started separating them, then it was no biggie. It gave me something to do in class, anyways.

Mum was none the wiser about my spacing out, only assuming that it was my magical core maturing and making me tired, might’ve been that, to be honest, but for all that I tried to learn more about this world I thought I knew everything about, it was slow progress. Turns out that magical theory was a pain in the fucking ass. 

Whoever wrote that it was all easy, was a fucking liar. I can’t even tell how many notes I had to take to actually grasp the concept of them. It was my previous knowledge that fucked me over, actually. I reckon if I had an actual younger mind I’d probably have an easier time understanding them, but no matter how much I tried to shake it off, I always ended up trying to relate the magic with science, and it would just turn into a jumbled mess to me.

I was suddenly very sympathetic of the boys with all their lack of will of studying whenever Hermione nagged them. Sure, when you understood the basis you understood most, but bloody hell, was it annoying at the start! It felt a lot like physics. All the “one’s matter does not change and bla bla bla”, it’s all so fucking boring! But whatever, when I got past it, it had me itching to try them out. But wandless magic was also a pain in the ass and I had zero progress in that area, so again, in the backburner it went until I had more control of it. And a fucking wand, that is. 

It was only once I got all my science-y knowledge hidden under the nonexistent bed while reading that I truly started to comprehend the books, but it was still saying something that I spent a long while in the first year books. 

Not that there was truly any rush, so I was taking my sweet time getting my bases right and hey, first impressions stick. If I go through my first year being a good student, I’m sure I could blend in later and not be so suspicious. 

The only serious problem we faced was when I started secondary because I had skipped a few years. We had a talk about me still going to Hogwarts when I could have something big as a muggle, and to be honest, even if I didn’t have all this knowledge to fix things, I’d still go. 

I just felt… disjointed, amongst my peers. And not just because I was a reincarnated soul, no. I knew it was because of my magic, and with it settling, I don’t think I’d be able to give it up, not with how it made me feel.

Even if I didn't experience the full extent of what most of the magical kids did, the exclusion and bullying, it was still… hard. 

The feeling of not belonging clung to me like a bad smell to my clothes, reminding me over and over that if those kids were to learn that I could move things with my mind, they'd label me as a ' freak '. The magic that once reminded me of getting shocked had turned into a warm blanket and a reminder of mum's hugs, and how could I hate it and part with it when it felt so- so… so like a chunk of me?

Besides, I needed it to protect my mum. I couldn't just give that up. 

Speaking of my mum. 

I had to give it to her for being able to push out visiting Diagon Alley for so long. A backbone of steel, the woman had.

It was September 6th of 1990 that my letter arrived, I honestly wasn't expecting it. I genuinely thought I'd only get it the next year, you know, when I'd actually be able to attend it. 

Mum woke me up with breakfast in bed and snuggles, tucking me under her arm as we ate and laughed and as she kissed my blonde hair again and again, muttering about me growing up too much and too fast. 

"Next year I won't get to be with you on your birthday, so I thought that maybe we could spend the day lazing around and stuffing ourselves with terrible terrible food?" My head snapped up and I widened my eyes at my mother, smiling slowly as her words registered. 

"But what about school and your work?"

"Took a day off and called in sick for you." My squeal had her laughing and squeezing me tighter, pressing her cheek against my head tenderly. “I have some gifts for you.”

“Gifts? In plural?” Mum laughed quietly, separating from me and raising to her feet, signaling me to wait as she left my room, leaving me to sigh contently and stretch lazily. Having day-offs was a rare thing with mum, the woman believed firmly in “if you have time to laze you have time to work”. Whether that be studying, reading, walking around the block, cleaning- She just didn’t like to be still and expected the same of me. 

An insistent tap tap tap on my window broke me out of my reverie, making me blink dumbly at the gigantic owl waiting impatiently. 

“Bloody He-”

“Language!” I jumped again as mum scowled at me, following my gaze to the window and widening her eyes in surprise, clenching her teeth and taking a deep breath before leaving the box by my feet. 

“Look at the size of that thing, mum!” 

The owl hooted indignantly, snapping her beak threateningly at the glass and making me shriek when it puffed up and glared heatedly at me.

“Star, stop antagonizing the owl!”

“I’m not!” 

Mum clicked her tongue and moved to open the window, reaching for some of the leftover bacon on my plate and offering to the little shit of an animal, cooing when it nipped affectionately at her fingers and dropped the letter on her extended hand while glaring menacingly at me. 

“Who’s a pretty girl? Oh, such a hard worker! You rest here, pretty girl. I’ll get you some water in a little, yes?” I shit you not, the owl smiled. I know it did. No, I did not imagine it. The fucking own hooted gently and settled on my fucking window and it bloody smiled! “Well… I guess the timing fits.”

Blinking back at my mum, I sat excitedly, reminded of what the little monster carried and what it could be. My mother sat back by my side, gently placing the box she brought on my lap, still holding on to the letter and signing me to open the present before the letter. 

Smiling widely, I did as told, raising my brows at the contents. 

“I know you never asked about your aunt and grandparents because of me, but… But our family had this tradition when a child turned eleven. I- Well, I didn’t have a use for mine and we all knew I couldn’t exactly- Yes. Well, since I didn’t have any use for my gifts, I thought you’d like them better.” 

I looked reverently at the box, touching what looked like a leather wand holster and a ring on top of it. 

The wand holster was light in colour with golden details, the family crest, with the wild boar and the motto written perfectly “audentes fortuna iuvat”. The ring was simple, a silver band with the family motto engraved in latin.

Fortune favours the Brave.

“They’re both enchanted for protection. It’s a family ring. If I- Well, it would work better if I was a witch. The ring works to communicate with who wears another, you just twist it three times. I reached out to one of your aunt’s friends, he enchanted a bracelet for me, so you can talk to me whenever you want once you’re gone to Hogw-” 

My mother clung to me, returning my hug with just as much tightness as me, breathing in my scent as I listened to the sound of her heart, burning to memory the feel of her hug as the tears blurred my vision, a wave of relief washing over me. 

Fuck, I hadn’t realized how upset I was with parting with her and not having an immediate way of reaching her. 

She squeezed me one last time, clearing her throat and blinking away her own tears to watch me slide in the ring, smiling when I shuddered happily at the feeling of magic, giggling when the wand holster disappeared as I slid it on. 

“It’ll also leave your wand out of sight.” I hummed in awe, brushing my hand on my right inner arm and marveling that I could feel it, but not see it. She bumped her arm with mine and handed me the letter, a small smile on her lips when I beamed at it. 

My hands shook as I took the envelope in my hands, eyes shining at what I once only dreamt of becoming reality, and what now I was a part of.

Soon.

Chapter Text

How to describe Diagon Alley? 

Honestly, I don’t think I could even if I tried. The only (and obvious) word I could use to describe would be ‘magical ’. A little stupid to say, but I was too much awed about it to think of anything else. It was bursting with colours, sounds and magic. 

Mum got to hold out the trip until March, surprisingly. Something about how they were probably still re-stocking everything, and something about waiting to see if they’d change the Defence Against the Dark Arts books, which - Fair, I guess. 

“Are we going to exchange the money for galleons, mum? Are you sure we can afford everything?” She blinked down at me in confusion at my whisper, pushing me gently to walk when the line at Gringotts moved again, clicking her tongue and shaking her head. 

“I guess I forgot to tell you, huh?” Mum laughed quietly at my expectant face, patting my shoulder and smiling sadly at me. “No, sweetie. Your grandparents left the family money to us- well, to you.”

My face must’ve been something else, because she had to cough to cover her loud laugh, making me sneer at the people that glared at her for the noise, only undoing my expression when she patted my shoulder again.

“Ah, yes, I know. I’m sorry, my little star. I just was under the impression I had already told you. Your grandparents and your aunt knew you’d be a little witch, and they wanted us to have all the support I needed to raise and pay for your education… You didn’t think we could afford all those books and the apartment just with my salary, did you?”

“Well, when you say it like that.” She giggled again at my flushed face, making me huff and cross my arms, batting her hand away gently when she tried to poke my puffed cheek, trying not to be annoyed at her for still keeping some things so close to her chest.

“Next .” 

We shared a look before moving to the goblin teller, I tried not to pay attention to his sagging skin and his sharp teeth shown by a sneer, only nodding respectfully and watching my mother hand him a silver key and speak in low tones, bowing her head when he growled about getting a goblin to take us to our vault. 

My mother didn’t let go of my shoulder even as we got inside the cart, and I had a feeling if she was to let go during the crazy ride, I would’ve flown off. Or maybe it was so I wouldn’t look out the cart (which I tried and got me an even tighter grip on my shoulder), either way, when the cart finally stopped, mum was paper white and had used the few seconds it took the goblin to open the vault to take a few strengthening breathes before leaving the cart on wobbling legs. 

If I laughed, she was none the wiser with how shocked she still seemed by all the twists and turns at high speed. 

When a green smoke puffed at the opened vault, I held my breath, squeezing mum’s hand when it finally cleared out, pulling her with me inside and gaping at it. 

Was that how Harry felt seeing so much gold for the first time? 

I imagined it wasn’t as much as what the Potters left for Harry, but it still seemed like the gramps were loaded. Which- you know, made sense, old family and all, I guess, but still.  

“Why don’t you go look around while I take what we need, hm?” She patted the top of my head and I smiled widely, scurrying to the chests I had seen. There were a few paintings and old furniture next to them, and a few pokes told me that the paintings were frozen and my ancestors weren’t about to rip me a new one for my muggle clothes. Hey, you never fully know your family history. 

I chose a worn chest to poke around, it was soon clear that it was a Hogwarts trunk, filled with clothes and knick-knacks. Snorting at the mess, I quirked a smile at the stressed shirts, having an idea of who the trunk belonged to. 

My smile widened at the feel of leather, sitting back on my heels and reverently holding my aunt’s jacket. 

It had pins and badges all around, and I wanted it. 

Giggling, I put it on, ignoring how large it was on me as I carried on looking through her things. 

“Lils?” Looking over my shoulder, I smiled at my surprised mother, wiggling my brows when she laughed merrily at the sight of me being dwarfed by the jacket. “I think that’s a tad too big for you, little star.” 

“I’ll grow into it.” She sighed wistfully and returned my smile, nodding and snorting when I cheered quietly. 

“Your aunt would’ve wanted you to have it, anyway.” Giggling, I gently closed the trunk, promising myself that I’d go over the photos I found another day. Mum didn’t need to see them, not yet. “Let’s go, little star.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

The ride back seemed worse for mum than going down had been, and she took to holding the jacket instead of my shoulder, squeaking and whining when I tentatively watched the darkness underneath us. I had a feeling that only the judging look from the goblin stopped her from falling to her knees and hugging the solid ground. 

“Right, thank you. Ah, shall we- Oof, shall we get your wand first, little star?” Laughing at my face, she nodded and folded the jacket gently. “Then we ought to get the trunk after, I don’t think we can carry everything from the list.” 

Thankfully mum seemed more amused than annoyed at me dragging her and with my skipping, laughing when I looked around impatiently in search of the wand-maker as soon as I stepped inside the store. 

Mum nudged me when I tried looking over the counter, pulling me back in time for Mr. Ollivander to pop up from where he was bent over. I couldn’t help but salute the movies for finding someone that fit the same vibe as the weird son of a bitch staring us down, eyes wide like he never blinked once in his life, blue (so so so blue), and huge, an amused smile on his lips as I rocked on the heels of my feet waitingly. 

“Ah, hello.” His voice was weirdly soothing, nearly a whisper as he looked over my features and then eyed my mother, who tensed at the attention before he returned his eyes back at me. “First wand?”

“Yes, sir!” Mr. Ollivander chuckled quietly, smiling when I introduced myself and bowed his head gently, measuring the arm I raised and, eyeing me intently again. “Is it true that the trace happens as soon as the wand chooses me?” 

“I fear not. The trace will be set in once you cross the Hogwarts’ magical barriers for the first time, it should give you plenty of time to get acquainted with your new partner, yes?” He smiled knowingly as I giggled, face red at getting caught so easily before he disappeared in search of wands for me to try. 

I wholeheartedly expected it to take long until a wand chose me, after all, that seemed normal in everything I had read, but it was still my second try when I knew it had found the one. 

It was beautiful, the wood was light and had an almost pinkish tone to it, runes and swirls carved near the hilt, and I swore it had a little gold glitter dust to it. I wanted it even before I touched it, if only just because it was fucking gorgeous. 

When Mr. Ollivander handed it to me, watching with those unblinking eyes, I sagged in relief as a warm feeling spread from my hand up my arm to my chest, circling my shoulders and nearly bringing tears to my eyes. If I couldn’t see my mother from the corner of my eyes, I’d think she had embraced me in that way saved for special occasions, where she’d hold me just a little longer, patting my back as if I was still a babe. 

Golden and pink sparks showered from the tip like glitter and I smiled widely at it.

Nice to meet you too.

“Ah, a great and rare match, I see. Beechwood, usually for second wands due to their want for matches wise beyond their years. I must warn you that it does not work well with the narrow-minded and intolerant, and when well-matched are for the ones fated with lustricious reputation. Affinity for charms and the more subtle arts too. Yes. Ah, dragon heartstring, a powerful core. Easy to learn spells. Nine inches, nice and flexible.”

I was nearly shaking on the spot while mum paid and picked out a wand caring kit, reverently looking at my beauty of a wand before carefully strapping it to the wand holster I received the year before. There was no word to describe how it felt to have a wand. It was like I was finally complete like it sucked all the glum out of me. I loved it. I loved it.

“Alright, alright. Trunk, then the rest?” 

“Can we leave everything back in our room and look around after we're done? I didn’t know there were other Alleys!” Mum laughed and nodded, gently steering me around as I chatted her ear off, feeling warm that she didn’t make any move to stop me from pestering her. I didn't think I’d ever get used to my mother loving me, it still felt surreal even if it has been a little over a decade already. 

We picked a trunk and a messenger bag for my books, they came together and both also had a featherlight charm in it as well as my initials "L.M.M", which was so fucking weird to carry around, let me tell you. We kept opening it in the middle of the alley after picking up all the potion ingredients, cauldron, telescope, and whatnots, thinking we dropped them because it was still light, until one of us reminded the other about the charm. 

From there we went to Madam Malkins for my clothes, and if mum kept sneaking more gloves, socks, cloaks, and robes, I pretended I didn’t see. Then, after, was pretty much stationary store (there was a muggle corner and I took most of the post-its and highlighters), with notebooks and parchments, plenty of quills (mum said I’d snap plenty until I got the hang of it), a few pens for note-taking, and a cute fox keychain that doubled in three others and that let you buzz the others if you pressed on the gems that made the nose. 

Mum has one and I was left with two. 

Then. Finally. 

Bookstore! 

It had been the agreement that between the two of us, we’d get more distracted there and should leave it for last or we wouldn’t get any of the shopping done. 

When I turned around to talk with mum, the woman was already gone, shooting for the poem aisle before I had opened my mouth to call for her. With a snort, I made my way up to the used books, a thing I learned from my past life, I think.

It went like this: find the more used ones, are there any notes? Those are the ones with the right things, which means someone used them thoroughly. I didn’t really care about new ones, I’d probably only use it for a year, and it was worth it for how the most important parts were already lines, and for the notes on the margins. 

Score!

The only one I got new was Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. I didn’t need Magical Theory, I already had one with plenty of my own notes back at home, and the rest I found with great notes. My biggest flex was the History of Magic, which I had an idea would be a fucking drag, but whoever owned the book had worked hard and taken plenty of useful notes, even with the small scribbles of how Binns was boring. 

With everything I needed in a basket, I moved out in search of my mum, snickering at the sight of her trying to balance the books that caught her eyes while keeping browsing. 

“You have a problem, mum.”

“We have a problem, don’t make this just about me, missy.” Laughing, I extended the basket so she could place her books inside it, smiling when she patted my head in thanks. “Are you sure you don’t want new ones? You know we can afford.”

“Yeah, these have notes. Will make it easier for me to study.” She hummed and shooed me off for my own browsing. “Do I have a limit?”

“Ten.”

“But you already have twel-”

“ I will be all alone for most of the year! Do you want me to shrivel and wilt of boredom?”

“Yeah, yeah, milk it for all it’s worth, grandma!”

“Grandma! Why you- ”

Snickering, I raced away from her swats, still giggling as I looked around for anything interesting and pretended I didn’t see the amused smile from the cashier watching us. 

There were just so many. I picked one about jinxes and hexes, one from the Harry Potter Chronicles, just to see how much bullshit people expected from the kid, one about stars and old constellations, two poem books, a book about beauty spells and potions (I’m sorry, but there’s a potion that stops hair from growing when applied to the spot?! Sign me up, it would come in handy one day.), a book of common household spells, for cleaning and cooking and whatnots, a history book about magic from other countries, an etiquette one (no bitch will catch me offending a wizard without realizing, all the offending will be done on purpose, thank you very much) and lastly, one about healing potions. 

By the time I had my picks and had browsed some more, mum was happily chatting with the cashier, waiting for me while trading library secrets (not that I’d know, she never tells me). 

“Ah, your girl has the same habits, I see.” I snorted in sync with mum at his teasing, pressing against her side as she lifted the rest of the books into the counter. 

“ No one has the same habits as mum, sir.” The cashier and I snickered when mum flushed hard, tsc-ing and flicking my forehead while the man looked amused between us, giving us the paper bags, waving his hand, and leaving them lighter than before. “Oh! How hard is it doing wandless magic? I read that your core has to be matured, but why does it matter if you can get a grasp of your magic? Do you need a specific kind of magic to-”

“Lils.” 

“Oh, sorry.” The wizard laughed, raising a finger for us to wait before he disappeared between shelves, smiling amusedly down at me and handing me a thin worn book, tapping the cover with his knuckles once I grabbed in confusion. 

“This has the theory and guides for casting wandless magic, it doesn’t deal with specific spells, there are no teaching spells in there, but I think you’d like it.” 

He smiled again, eyeing my mother as I eagerly opened it, trailing my finger on the rough paper and the notes in the margins. 

“Ah, how much-”

“Don’t worry about it, ma’am. It’s mine and I have long overgrown it.”  

“Oh! We can’t accept it-”

“I insist.” 

Raising my eyes at my blushing mother, I eyed the wizard thoughtfully, looking back at my stuttering mother and pursing my lips, I watched the wizard smile gently and the top of his cheeks redden as my mother thanked him again. 

Ah, the banes of having a gorgeous mum. 

“Thank you, sir!” My chirp cut their awkward flirting short, both flushing even harder at my dazzling knowing smile. “I’ll be sure to take care of it, if I’m done with it before going to Hogwarts, maybe mum can bring it back!”

“Lilium!” Pursing my lips to hold back my snicker, I raised a brow at the flushed cashier, seeing the amused twinkle in his eyes as he cleared his throat. 

“Ah, maybe if she returns in time, I’ll have another book for you before classes start again.”

“Great! She’ll come back!” 

“Oh, my- Goodbye! It was great knowing you, Mr. Sullivan! Let’s go, Lils.” Winking at the amused cashier, I let mum drag me out and away from the bookstore, finally snickering when she glared half-heartedly at me. “You’re a bloody menace.” Her hiss only made me laugh louder, clasping her hand with mine as she sighed exasperatedly. 

“I’m your bloody menace.” 

“Lord have mercy on your professors and head of House.” 

“Oi! ”

✦✦✦

The next day, when we finally took a train back home, I was thoroughly engrossed in the theory of wandless magic while painting my nails with the charmed nail polish we found at Horizontal Alley, it changed to whatever colour and pattern I wanted and it would never chip even if I bit on it, it would only come out if I used the magical remover it came with, and mum let me buy it as long as I didn’t change it to red or black. (Apparently, those colours were saved only for when I was fourteen, go figures.) 

So with a dashing glittering baby blue with stars, I was left to read my gifted book. There was a part talking about the historical side of wandless magic, how it was left behind due to its difficulty in practice, being exchanged to staffs, then wands, with the need for easier protection of young witches and wizards around the time of the Witch trials, but that it was not only possible, but not hard, once you practiced. 

The guides started with meditation and advised for settlement of one’s magical core, not because it was dangerous, just that it was more difficult since the core wasn’t large nor had enough strength to hold spells without aid (ergo, the use of wands and staffs when you're young). 

Mr. Sullivan (Hugh), left plenty of notes about his thoughts on it and his process of learning it, starting from imagining his magic as a physical thing, and how he thought it better to start with the most basic charms, there were funny tidbits about how he accidentally stupefied someone when he flicked his hand too hard, or how more than once he knocked himself out by putting too much magic in summoning something. 

A nice reminder for me to take my bloody time with things, we don’t need another raining incident.

Speaking of raining incident. 

“Hey! If we had the money, why did you take all those shifts to pay for my little accident?” Mum lifted her eyes from her own book, raising a brow and staring me down enough to make me squirm in my seat before smirking and shrugging, looking out the window at the blurring scenery. 

“Guilt works wonders, doesn’t it? You did stop with the secret lessons.” 

“You’re scary.” 

“You’ll get there yet, honey.” Shaking my head and shuddering, I looked back at the book, ignoring her snickers as I concentrated again on understanding the physics of not using a wand.

The next months were spent going over my books, both for my classes, and the ones I deemed important. 

Ok, turns out etiquette was a thing and mum had been instilling it in me since- well, forever. When asked about it she looked like I had just told her the earth was flat, seriously.

“What? Do you think I’d raise a simple someone?! You’re the only living witch of an old magical family! Mother would’ve come back from the grave if I didn’t make sure you kept your bony elbows off the table! You think I would raise a mouth breather or a sloucher?!” 

So, yeah. That book was a bust and a little bit of a waste. 

It did have some very cool tips though, felt a lot like reading 100 rules to make others quiver at your feet, very interesting and mum read it after I was done. 

The beauty spells and the home cleaning ones were very useful, though. Mum also approved of how nice my hairstyles were and how fast I was done with them, once I got them down and stopped knotting my hair badly enough we considered cutting it off. The potions for acne and hair removal weren’t needed yet, and mum had a fit when I tried the glamour ones that seemed a lot like I was wearing makeup, so I also had to table that use for when I turned fourteen, but she greatly encouraged my training in the house cleaning spells and told me it would be great to keep my side of the dorm tidy. 

(Apparently, house-elves clean, but they do not tidy anything. No touching personal objects, so if I leave a book on the floor, on the floor it will stay until I pick it up.)

The healing potions book was alright, some looked easy to brew, some were so intricate and complex that I had to take days to understand how it would work, and some I couldn't read half of what it did let alone how to brew. Seeing as I wouldn’t really be needing it yet, it was just nice to be familiarised with them. 

The one that I would be needing and was mighty useful and fun were of jinxes and hexes, not that I expected to truly use it, but if I hear that someone is giving a hard time to one of my friends, whoever they might be, I’d be ready.

It was also great movement practice, and I was starting to see some patterns in the spells. I was sure it had something to do with Arithmancy's number of letters or some bullshit, but I was too scared of testing my theory and doing something bad, so I contented myself with training the movements and incantations separately.

And the one book I thought I’d hate reading, but found myself thoroughly enjoying, was (surprisingly) the first book of the Harry Potter Chronicles. They very clearly were not true, no seven-year-old would’ve been able to tame a chimera or be a king, but damn if it wasn’t entertaining reading it! Very well written and great fantasy.

It was sad that it was books like those that painted a picture of a little boy, though. How unfair it was for the Wizarding world to have an idea of this kid and be mad at him for not being it.  

Either way, I forced myself not to buy the next ones (even if I really wanted to), because I didn’t want to support them any more than I already did, and busied myself with studying and practicing my spellwork. Transfiguration was a little hard for me, but I managed after a few frustrating tries. The wand works pretty well for Charms, though. Just like Mr. Ollivander had told me, and it’s not like it’s terrible at Transfiguration, and my difficulty might just be because I still have a hard time believing and getting in my head that the matter does not change, it just looks like it did. 

But, oh well. 

The night before September 1st had us at the Leaky Cauldron, sleeping in the same bed as if I was still a little kid waking up from a nightmare about loud noises and pretty light orbs and climbing on mum's bed. To be honest, we didn’t really sleep, just talked quietly through the night and napped a little, and almost missed breakfast the next morning. 

My stomach was in knots the whole morning, and it didn’t help that mum was always tearing up whenever she looked at me while I got ready or when we ate. Tom seemed to have sympathized with her because we got free tea and we both tactfully pretended not to see her wiping the tears from her cheeks while he told me about his own time at Hogwarts. 

Then, we took a taxi to King’s Cross and the nice driver placed my trunk in a trolley (maybe he also heard mum sniffling and me reassuring her that I’d write her every week), but then she guided me in front of the passage between Platform 9 and 10, pulling me into a tight hug that genuinely cut off my breath, and I had to discreetly take a deep one once she released me to brush my curls away from my face, cupping my cheeks and giving me a watery smile. 

“You be good, yes? Try not to take over Hogwarts, tell me what house you’re in, about any friends you make and learn lots, ok? Listen to your teacher and- and-” She broke in a cry and I quickly followed, pulling her into a hug of my own, squeezing her hard enough for her to remember as I sobbed into her chest. 

“I’m going to miss you, mommy. ”

“Oh, my little star.” She held my face again once I pulled away, brushing away my tears and just taking in my expression. “I’ll miss you too, mo rionnag bheag.” 

My little star.

I hiccupped again at her use of Gaelic, ignoring the sympathetic looks from the few wizarding families leaving their own children and crossing the barrier, it was so rare for her to use. It reminded her too much of her lost sister and parents, and I still remember how much she cried whenever she taught it to me because it was part of our heritage, but it still hurt so much.

“Tha gaol agam ort, mama.” 

“I love you too, my little star. You go now, yeah?” Nodding and drawing in a wet breath, I let her wipe away my tears and got another hug in before finally taking a hold of my cart and crossing the barrier, stopping myself from looking over my shoulder lest I decide that no, the wizarding world can go fuck and fix itself and stay with my mum. 

I couldn’t, not when I held out and came this far. 

Chapter Text

I shuddered once I crossed the barrier, letting the magic wash over me and blinking in awe at the sight. The train was a little more old-looking than depicted in the movies, but it had a presence. I only moved because a warm hand pushed my shoulder gently, making me jump and look up at a ginger woman with a round face and kind eyes. 

“First year, dear?” Nodding shyly, I gulped back my surprise and fluster at having missed the ginger family staring at me from a little away. “Do you need help with your trunk?”

Even before I could answer, two identical gingers were already hoisting my trunk, blinking down in surprise at how light it was before smiling at me in sync. 

“Well, Gred. It seems-”

“-That the ickle firstie is-”

“-smart enough to not-”

“-need anyone!” 

I blinked in a daze.

“I am shaking in my boots, do you two practice lines like that and wait for the perfect opportunity?” There were some good five seconds of silence until both boys burst into laughter while I was still dizzy trying to keep up with the two parts conversation. It was genuinely scary. 

“Did you hear that, Forge?” 

“I did, Gred! Maybe we should practice lines!”

“These firsties just keep getting better and better! First Harry Potter and now this!”

“I know! Maybe this year can be saved yet!”

Their mother sighed and patted my shoulder again, smiling down at me amusedly as one of them carried my trunk inside, both still talking between each other about me. 

“Up you go, dear. Don’t want to miss the train, do you?” 

“No, ma’am! Thank you for… I- Well, I think I would’ve kept blocking the passage if you hadn’t…”

“It’s ok, sweetie. I was the same way when my oldest went to Hogwarts, if your mum is still outside I’ll be sure to reassure her, you don’t worry.” 

I felt myself melting for this woman who saw a mother and daughter in pain and decided to help, just because. I promised myself that I’d hug her one day, but for now, I settled for smiling widely. 

“Thank you!” She patted me again and made a shooing motion, and I followed her twins up the train, smiling up at them once I realized they were waiting for me with my trunk. 

“Come on, firstie. We’ll leave you with our brother if you want.” 

“He’s a little slow, but he means well.” I snorted, shaking my head and trying to temper down my excitement at being around two of my favorite charac- People. They weren’t characters. Not anymore. “Went ahead instead of waiting for a lady, the fool.”

“Again, he’ll get there one day-”

“-hopefully.” They finished in sync and I smiled up at them.

Looking between them as they chatted about Hogwarts, I silently promised myself to do everything I could in my power to keep their bond alive.

“Ah, here he is. Hey, Ron.” I looked between both boys, sticking my head between their arms as the three of us were half inside the compartment.

That was when I had my first glance at both protagonists. 

Harry was a small little guy, too skinny, crooked glasses, horrendously messy hair, green eyes that if were a tone more vibrant would look fake, but most surprisingly? 

KID WASN’T WHITE!

I swear to God I nearly choked, but that would've been rude and I had too much control over my expressions to let that happen. 

So. Harry’s South Asian. I can live with (and love) that. It made sense, all the talk about his eyes being striking, though. With his darker skin, they were just so… well- striking. 

Ron was tall and gangly, and he slouched on himself to seem smaller, his hair was a tad darker than the twins, and his eyes were brown while his brothers' were blue. 

“Listen, we’re going down the middle of the train - Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there. We’ll leave this firstie in your care.” I felt a hand messing with my hair and I used both hands to pinch their backs, snorting at their yelps as Ron blinked at the noise. 

“Right…”

“Harry, did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. This is Ron, our brother. And this is… Wait, who are you?” 

“Just picked me up without asking, ey?” I snickered, squeezing between them to get inside the compartment as one of them followed me to put my trunk in place. “Lils or you can call me Star.”

“Well, you looked so very helpless-”

“-crying all over the place-”

“-making mum almost cry with you by being sweet. We-”

“-just couldn’t leave you-”

“-to fend for yourself!” They finished in sync, and the only one who didn’t seem spooked by the act was their brother, who was growing more flushed the weirder they became. 

“My heroes.” I deadpanned, making them snicker and wave their brother and Harry away. 

“See you later, then.” 

“Bye,” The door closed in front of me and I turned around to smile tentatively at the two boys staring awkwardly at me. 

“Is it really ok if I stay here? I think the rest of the train is all full.” Trying not to wring my hands, I relaxed when Harry sent me a hesitant smile and when Ron nodded slowly. “Wicked!”

Sitting next to Ron, I blinked as the boy blurted out before I could even situate myself. 

“Are you really Harry Potter?” Oh boy. When Harry nodded, Ron’s eyes went as wide as saucers, eyes flicking up to the boy’s forehead even as I coughed uncomfortably. “Oh - well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George’s jokes… And have you really got - you know…”

Ok, I wanted to cut this painfully awkward moment, but- Shit, I also wanted to see the famous scar. 

When Harry lifted his fringe, we stared. 

It was a perfect lightning shape, like someone had slowly cut it up. It was puckered and still somewhat red as if it was inflamed, like it still hadn't healed. 

“So that’s where You-Know-Who-?” 

“Yes, but I can’t remember it.” Harry touched the scar lightly and I frowned in worry. 

“It doesn’t hurt still, does it?”

“Only sometimes.” 

“Nothing ?” The ginger asked eagerly as a follow-up from his previous question, and I pursed my lips at the lack of tact, but Harry didn’t seem bothered by it. 

“Well- I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.”

“Wow-” I elbowed the boy lightly when he continued staring, Ron jumped in surprise and flushed, looking out the window as Harry stared between the two of us, seeming a little embarrassed when I smiled at him. 

“Are all your family wizards?” 

His eyes flicked between us and I made a so and so motion as Ron responded. 

“Er - yes, I think so. I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”

“My mum’s not a witch, but I had an aunt and grandparents that were- you know… magical.” Harry blinked confusedly while Ron flushed even harder, seemingly embarrassed by not having contact with the squib of his family, even if I didn’t really care about it. 

“She’s not a witch?” Ron made a whimpering noise at Harry’s question, making the boy flustered and stutter an apology as I laughed and waved it away. “I’m- I- I’m sorry, I didn’t know it’s-”

“It’s alright, Harry! I don’t care. She’s called a squib. A child without magic born from magical parents. She had it easy, compared to what more stuck-up pureblood families do with their squibs. As it was, mum was treated the same as my aunt, she just went to college while aunt Lene went to Hogwarts. They had to keep their distance during the war, though. Especially with me around, mum said she was a target when I was born."

I smiled at Ron, who slowly turned to look at me again, relaxing when he didn’t see any judgment, sagging even more as I crossed my legs on top of my seat, getting more comfortable when Harry smiled shyly and thankfully. For what, I didn’t know. 

“But you should be careful asking things like that, though. I don’t care, and neither would mum, but some families are just… Bad, you know?” Ron nodded at my words, looking between us to make sure Harry understood even as the boy himself nodded thoughtfully. “But since we’re all good here, you can ask away. I personally don’t mind.”

“Right, neither do I.”

“Er- So you two must know loads of magic already.” 

Our talk was surprisingly nice, both boys made sure to include me and I was more than a little touched at it as I chirped my answers, making them laugh a little at my responses until Ron went on talking about his family and oversharing his insecurities, and I tensed at the sight of the fucking sleeping fat rat. 

His ears were red once he realized just how much he overshared, I nodded in time with Harry as the boy reassured him that there was nothing wrong with not being able to afford an owl, telling his own story and what he went through with the Dursleys, leaving me glaring angrily at the floor. 

“... and until Hagrid told me, I didn’t know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort-”

I scowled harder while Ron gasped, lifting my eyes to see Harry looking between us confusedly.

“What?”

“You said You-Know-Who’s name! I’d have thought you, of all people-”

“I’m not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name. I just never knew you shouldn’t. See what I mean? I’ve got loads to learn… I bet.” I felt myself shift at the lowering of his voice, insecurity seeping on his words as he whispered embarrassedly. “I bet I’m the worst in class.”

“You won’t be, Harry. Plenty of other kids will be either muggleborns or muggle raised. We’ll all learn at the same time, don’t worry! And if you really need it, we can help each other, regardless of what house we end up.” I smiled reassuringly, looking at Ron again and smiling softly. “And you don’t need to measure up for your brothers or try to surpass them. I’m liking Ron just fine, I know you'll be remembered for being yourself.” 

The boy flushed hard, but sent me a grateful smile before I shrugged. 

“I’m really scared of… not finding friends… you know? Being alone. I- Well, it was always just me and my mum. My aunt and my grandparents were killed when I was a baby, so it’s just us and-” I shrugged, fiddling with my ring and trying not to cry at my own words. But- Well, they shared their fears, you know? I can’t do them the disservice of pretending I don’t have one (more like twenty) too. “I’ve never been away from her for long. I never needed any friends with her there, but now…” 

I felt an awkward and hesitant pat on my shoulder, and I looked at Ron, who was smiling tentatively down at me. 

“We can be friends, right?” 

“Right, I’m also afraid of not having friends.” Harry muttered silently and I returned his smile, blinking away my tears and nodding. 

“I’d really like that.” They beamed at me and I returned the gesture, and the three of us fell again into a more light conversation. I shouldn’t have been surprised when Ron asked about our quidditch teams, and while Harry said he had only recently found out about the sport and therefore didn’t have a team yet, I smiled. 

“Curupiras.” Ron moaned as I laughed, nudging his arm with my own as I wiggled my brows. “Lemme guess, Chudley Cannons?”

“They’re so much better! And that’s not even in our league!”

“Don’t care! They have Letícia Alves! Did you not read about their last game? She scored three-fourths of the points and forced the other team to catch the snitch just so they could save a little of their dignity!”

“But the curupiras?” I snickered again, both at his pronunciation at the Brazilian team and at his face, rubbing my cheek and smirking, nudging him again as Harry watched amusedly. 

“Just admit you’re bitter that they beat England last year at the Quidditch World Cup.”

“Well- Scotland destroyed them!”

“Good! I’m Scottish!” Harry joined me in laughter as Ron huffed and crossed his arms, even if there was a smile twitching on his lips. “Urgh, it was a bitter ending to lose to Canada at the finals, though.” 

“Tough luck.” The green-eyed boy teased and the three of us fell into laughter again. While Ron explained to Harry the sport and all its wonder, I got up on the seat to get to my trunk, opening it enough to snatch one of my books, plopping back on my seat and getting more comfortable to read. It was the one about the magical history of other countries. 

Harry eyed it curiously but continued to pay attention to Ron’s excited explanations.

It was clear to see that the boy didn’t really have anyone to tell things like that to, and he thoroughly enjoyed teaching about something he knew that someone else didn’t.

Only the sound of the door opening had me snapping back into reality with how immersed I was in my reading, blinking at the trolley witch and watching Harry leap to his feet at the prospect of food. 

Mum had packed me a few sandwiches, and I knew Harry would buy plenty, so while Harry stepped into the corridor, I got up on the seat again after handing a confused Ron my book to get my packed food. It took a little maneuvering and a few jumps, but I was successful in retrieving them in time for Harry to plop everything into the empty seat.

“Hungry, are you?” I snickered at Ron’s voice, crossing my legs again as Harry smiled.

“Starving.” 

Ron took out his sandwiches, and I tilted my head at it when he sighed.

“She always forgets I don’t like corned beef.”

“Swap you for one of these.” Harry held one pasty, and I looked at Ron’s sandwich. For real? That looked nice. “Go on-”

“Swap with me too? That looks good.” 

“You don’t want this, it’s all dry. She hasn’t got much time, you know, with five of us.” while he tried to hastily explain, I reached over and plucked a sandwich from him, ignoring his ‘hey!’ and giving him one of mine before handing one to Harry as well, pretending I didn’t see the glinting of happiness on Harry’s eyes as he also took of Ron’s sandwiches and replaced it with a pasty. 

"Sharing is caring, Ron."

While the boys promptly ate the cakes and pastries, I contented myself with Mrs. Weasley’s and mum’s sandwich. 

“Hm! Ron! Your mum’s food is so good!” The boy flushed again, but smiled proudly when I eyed the remaining sandwich on his side. “I don’t have anything to exchange for.” 

“Oh, you- Well, you can have it, if you want.” Like the little gremlin I was, I accepted without dolly dallying, squirming happily on my spot as the boys laughed. 

“Seriously, your mum has mad cooking skills!” 

I was too full to ask for any other sandwich, but I joined them in tasting the sweets. 

“I’m like Harry, I’ve never had these before.”

“But didn’t you say your family still kept your mum around?” Ron asked hesitantly, and I pretended not to notice his hesitation as I nodded, looking fascinated at the Morgana card, watching her stare me down before leaving to the side in a haughty huff. 

“Well, yeah, but they died in the war, mum didn’t have any connections so I grew up muggle. She didn't even tell me about magic until I caught myself accidentally setting my things on fire.” I shrugged, smiling reassuringly at Ron before handing the card to Harry. “I never knew my dad. Don’t even know his name. I think he was a wizard, though. I don’t look like my mum, she’s white, you know, so all of this must’ve been from him.” I took one of the Liquorice Wands after pointing at my face as Harry nodded. 

“Though the blonde comes from mum’s side of the family. It’s weird. Mum said the family knew whether or not a kid was going to be a squib by their lack of blonde hair.” Ron ‘huh-ed’ and I shrugged again. “I don’t know how family magic works, but I’ve seen a few pictures, and it’s crazy weird how every witch or wizard born into the family had blonde hair, but squibs take after the parents that married into it. Mum looked like my grandma, she had brown hair.” 

“That’s really cool, though, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” 

“I wonder if I have this family magic.” I looked at his messy hair and striking green eyes and smiled knowingly. 

“We have the ginger hair too,” Ron spoke through a mouthful of chocolate, looking up in thought before shrugging. “Dad always did say something about it…You want to be careful with those.” 

I watched Harry pull an Every-Flavour Beans and scrunched my nose as he raised a brow at Ron, waiting for more explanation and only receiving a shrug in response. 

“When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor - you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a bogey-flavored one once.” 

I giggled, watching him pick a green one and sharing a laugh with Harry when he bit into it only to spit it out with a disgusted sound. 

“Blaaargh - see? Sprouts! ” Ron shuddered and I laughed harder, shaking my head and reaching for a bean pink bean myself, scrunching my face and forcing a swallow as they laughed at my face. 

“Green Beans. Urgh.” 

We had a fun time trying them, and Harry seemed to pick that time to ask about my forgotten book, and he listened in awe as I told him about the different practices of magic from other countries and cultures. 

“I don’t know how updated the book is, but apparently Latin America has both best and worst with muggles reacting to magic.”

“Yeah, Charlie had a friend from Castelobruxo once, he said that there you either have muggles that see magic as heaven-sent, or as devilry.” I nodded excitedly and flipped my book to show Harry a rough sketch of the Brazilian magical school. “Their muggleborns are guarded very seriously.”

“Must be because they’re still heavily Christian. Latin America does have a higher Obscurus count, though.” 

There was a painful moment of silence from the boys as Ron grimaced at the information and Harry waited for an explanation. I tried my best to do so, and with how Harry paled, I could only imagine the connections he was making in his head.

“Do we have many of those?”

I looked at Ron for information for Harry’s question, ignoring the way he puffed a little at the attention before he shrugged. 

“We haven't recorded one since Grindelwald, I reckon. Dad, he works at the Ministry of Magic, he said that kids showing signs of becoming a… you-know-what, show up for the Ministry and they intervene.” I huh-ed in surprise before setting my book aside again, reaching for another bean and choking at the taste of pepper. 

The tension was promptly broken by the boys laughing while I reached for a Chocolate Frog to try taking the heat off my tongue. 

“You two… Are no help.” I took another hefty bite as they cackled again. 

I was starting to wonder how much I had already changed things just by being there, like a butterfly batting its wings, when finally - finally - the door of our compartment opened after a knock interrupted the boys looking over their new cards and my reading. 

Neville looked like he had been crying and was holding on very bravely to ask for something. 

So bloody cute.

“Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?” He wailed when we looked at each other and shook our heads. “I’ve lost him! He keeps getting away from me!”

“Do you have an enclosure for him?” Neville sniffled and shook his head, and it took everything in me not to leap out of my seat to squeeze the daylights out of him. Adorable. So adorable. “Well, you should find a Prefect, they should know how to deal with escapees.”

“He’ll turn up.” 

I nodded at Harry’s words, trying to reassure Neville while he squirmed and sighed miserably. 

“Yes… Well, if you see him…” 

And he left. Like a sad sad puppy. Urgh, my heart. 

“Don’t know why he’s bothered, if I’d brought a toad I’d lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can’t talk.” I made a face at the fat rat on Ron’s lap, what a disgusting piece of shit. “He might have died and you wouldn’t know the difference. I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn’t work. I’ll show you, look-”

I was frozen in horror when Ron plopped the rat on my lap to rummage around in his trunk for his wand. Harry seemed a mix between worried and amused at my face, and I widened my eyes when he woke up, probably sensing he wasn’t on the previous lap.

There was a moment of silence as we stared at each other and Ron was just about to reach for him again after grabbing his battered wand when Pettigrew squealed like a little pig and shot away from me, squealing again when he saw Harry. Ron yelped and grabbed his fat body in an ease that showed practice as Harry and I exchanged looks. 

“Right, he’s also a bloody coward.” I snorted and tried to relax at the prospect of being around the rat, cursing myself for not having a plan for this son of a bitch. The only thing I knew was that I couldn’t tip him off, and that I was too scared of revealing him too soon and either him escaping and not giving Sirius a chance of escaping Azkaban, or revealing him and the Ministry of Magic not doing shit. That part of changing things scared the shit out of me, the circumstances of Sirius escaping were so specific that I was afraid of changing it for the worst. “Unicorn hair’s nearly poking out. Anyway-”

My eyes snapped at the compartment door, Neville was back with a certain bushy-haired witch wearing her new Hogwarts robes. I quailed my excitement by smiling at Neville, who looked rather tearful, still. 

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one.” My brows raised even as I was expecting it, when she was depicted as bossy, I didn’t think it was bossy bossy you know. 

Her voice was haughty, like she was shaming us for Neville’s loss and the boy himself seemed to flush with it, though she didn’t seem to realize (or care). 

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it-” 

“Oh, are you going magic? Let’s see it, then.” If I gaped a little at how mocking she sounded, it wasn’t anyone’s business. I shared a look with Harry again when she sat down in front of Ron and me, completely ignoring me to stare at Ron waitingly. 

“Er - all right.” He cleared his throat. “Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow,” When nothing happened, Ron frowned in a blush, staring down at Pettigrew’s sleeping form. How the hell did he sleep like that? Was he even sleeping?

“Are you sure that’s a real spell? Well, it’s not very good, is it?” The rest of the compartment watched in a mix of fascination and annoyment as Hermione spoke without taking a single breath, telling us about learning of magic and how every spell she tried worked and wow- I think she just broke like three social etiquette rules without breathing once. “I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”

The boys shared a look and I cleared my throat, it was a little unnerving having her judgy eyes on me. 

“I’m Ron Weasley.”

“Star.” 

“Harry Potter.” 

“Are you really?” I slowly looked at Ron, checking if he was just as offended as I that she made a 90º to face the boy, promptly ignoring us as we gaped at each other. “I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.” 

I wanted to stop her, hell, I tried. But every time I spoke up to interrupt her fast-talking, she just carried on as if she hadn’t heard me. I took a moment to watch her, looking at Harry’s uncomfortable face before returning my eyes to her eager expression. 

“Am I?”

“Ah, Granger.” My louder voice seemed to have finally caught her attention, and I smiled slowly when she turned back at us, seemingly realizing what she had done and waiting for me to speak up. “All books written on Harry were done without consulting him, so I doubt the Harry you expect is the one he’ll be.” She tilted her head, blinking and frowning at me confusedly and glancing at Harry for confirmation as he nodded, still dazed.

“Oh, well… I suppose I should’ve checked their sources before reading. Do any of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad… Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.” 

With that, she left, taking a flustered and regretful Neville with her. 

I was still in a daze as the boys talked with each other. Damn. That was… A lot. 

Sighing and shaking my head, I searched for my robes while the boys discussed the houses they’d be in. 

“Well, I don’t know if the whole “all Slytherins are evil” thing is real, anyone can be evil, no matter their house. But I hope I don’t end up there.” For all that every test I’ve ever taken always sent me to the snake house or Hufflepuff.

“If it’s not evil then why don’t you want to go there, huh?” Raising a brow at Ron’s annoyed voice, I let it slide off my back when the tip of his ears turned red at my look from over him, still trying to get the bloody skirt I stupidly packed underneath my books. 

“Mum’s a squib, if I go into that house I’m just asking to have a hard time.” Shrugging, I made a noise of victory for successfully grabbing the whole thing before dropping back to the floor. “I’m going to change and walk around a bit, I’ll be back.” 

They waved me off as I packed the clothes inside my messenger bag, finally feeling the lack of sleep catching up to me as I made my way to the bathroom to put on my uniform. Argh, maybe I would have a sugar crash. Shouldn’t have stuffed myself with all that candy. 

Once in uniform, I looked at the stained mirror and tried to come to terms with what I learned from the main characters. Harry was as subdued and shy as I had expected, though he seemed to have warmed up to me easily enough, but by God, he was a tiny little thing, all sharp boned and short. He was clearly malnourished, and the clothes three sizes too big only accentuated it.

Ron was surprisingly more pleasant than I had expected. I distinctly remember always being pissed off when reading about him, but oh well, we’ll still have time to see if he’s as bad as I remember and it did me well to remember that the books had been from Harry's point of view. 

And Hermione had no social skills what so fucking ever and seemed less interested to acknowledge me than the boys, which I just knew would bring me a headache in the future.

Staring at my face in the mirror, I, for the first time, wondered who those features came from. They definitely didn’t come from mum, and I never traveled enough to recognize its origins, only that it was from Asia.

Idly, I wondered if he was still alive, or if he had been killed during the war before I was born. 

It was an odd- no, not odd, just… Rare (?) combination. Asian with grey eyes and light golden hair. I remember only seeing it when people dyed their hair and wore contacts, but I suppose magic finds its ways to keep the family genes, like Harry with his eyes.

The face was so different from my last one, my nose more delicate and weirdly straight and somewhat pointy from the McKinnons even though it was more characteristically flat a the bridge, my lips plumper, my brows with less arch than my Before face, I had a few spots, one on my cheek near my right eye, one above my left brow and another lower by my jaw, cheeks high and sharp under my baby fat.

All in all, it was a pretty face, I thought. Definitely more like my father, whoever he was, than mum with her more sultry beauty. Not that I should care about that at 11 years old, but it was what I was. I perhaps wished I looked more like her, but there was still some of mum there, my smile and mannerisms were all her, even my voice!

Blinking away the daze, I broke eye contact with my reflection to search for a Prefect. Poor Neville needed his emotional support toad and damn it if I wasn’t going to help, better than contemplate my own ancestry.

It was just my luck that a ginger Prefect was walking down the corridor. 

“Hi! Excuse me?” Percy stopped, looking over his shoulder and blinking down at me waiting. “You’re a Prefect, aren’t you?”

He turned around, chest puffed in pride and a glint in his eyes as he nodded seriously. 

“I am. Do you have any questions?”

“Ah, actually I need help? A friend lost his toad. I know there’s a charm to find things, but I don’t know how to cast it. Could you help me find him, please?” The boy looked like I was the Queen and had just asked him to protect me with his life, as if finding a toad was the highest honor one could have. “His name is Trevor.”

“Sure, here. Point Me Trevor.” Percy waved his wand, and watch with interest as it turned on his hand, pointing at the front of the train. He cocked his head for me to follow and I did so, discreetly looking at him and being slightly surprised how much Ron looked like him in comparison to the twins, though he wasn’t as lanky as his youngest brother. “This way.” 

It took less than three minutes to find Trevor hiding under a seat in a compartment with a bunch of fourth years Ravenclaws. With various ‘thank you’s’, I set out to find Neville, holding the toad as if he was a giant burger and keeping him away from my clothes as he croaked and screamed. 

Luckily, most compartments seemed to have already been visited by the searching boy, so they mostly sent me amused looks as I peeked inside, introducing myself when I recognized the first years, or when they seemed nice enough.

“What you doing here, Star?” I smiled at one of the twins, nodding in greeting at Lee, recognizable by the dreadlocks and the box on his lap. 

“Are you running from Ronniekins?” 

“That must be a record, George! Not even a whole day and a Weasley made a girl run!”

“I think so too, Fred!” Snickering, I shook my head and smiled at Lee. 

“Tarantula?”

“In the box. Wanna see?”

“Yes, please!” Handing one of them Trevor, so he wouldn’t accidentally try to eat the pet. The twins laughed when I gasped at the spider, it was massive. Not in a normal way! Its hairy leg poked out and I shrieked when one of the twins pinched my side, noticing how focused on the tarantula I was. Jumping away from them, I glared before turning back to look at the spider. “Is it a magical breed? I don’t think normal ones are supposed to look like that.” 

They were still snickering when Lee closed the box again with a nod and a laugh, he told me a little about it while I took Trevor back, still holding it awkwardly, but thoroughly paying attention to the boy’s short lesson of magical spiders. 

“Spooky. Good luck sneaking that into Hogwarts.”

“I’m two for two, should be ok.” Snorting, I said my goodbyes and ignored the twins' calls for their own goodbyes as I moved back to the corridor, sighing in relief when I found Neville and Hermione in a compartment next to the twins, smiling when Neville cried a happy ‘ Trevor! ’ at the loud scream the toad gave before I could knock on the door. 

“Asked for a prefect for help finding your buddy.” Happily handing him the fat toad, I waved away his thanks when he clutched the animal to his chest as if it was a teddy. “He liked to be under the seat, maybe ask for someone to send him an enclosure? He’d be comfortable hiding.” 

I didn’t stick around, deciding to see if I could meet any other first years and stopping at a compartment with a lone boy reading a thick tome. He didn’t pay any mind when I knocked on his door, only snapping his head up as if startled when I poked my head inside before his surprise quickly shifted into defensiveness and a mean sneer. 

“Hi, I’m Lils-”

I blinked at his mouthed “I don’t care, leave.” 

Pursing my lips, I watched the way he clutched the book harder, sneer still in place. Nodding, I smiled apologetically, tucking away in my mind how he curled on himself and turned more towards the door on his seat as I closed the door again. How odd, he closed in on himself but still stood in position to watch the door.

Hm.

Moving back to my compartment, I blinked in surprise down the corridor at the yells followed by three kids leaving the compartment, making me snort when I recognized Malfoy’s red face as Hermione raced past them scowling and breaking inside when the three had left. 

Hermione was leaving the compartment when I deemed it safe to get back. 

Ron had the biggest scowls and Harry looked more embarrassed than anything. 

“What’s this I heard about Scabbers fighting someone?”

“That Malfoy prat came in here with his cronies and started a fight! And then that girl comes in here and- and- Argh!” I snorted, putting my things away as a voice echoed through the train: 

“We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”  

Snickering at the boys’ palling faces, I tucked a few of the sweets into my pockets with them before joining the crowd of kids nervously, caging Harry between the two of us and stepping in front of the few that kept turning around to gawk at him. He might’ve tugged my robes in thanks, but with the tight fit around us, I couldn’t be sure.

Then the train slowed down and we pushed our way out towards a dark and cold platform. 

“Firs’-years! Firs’-years over here! All right there, Harry?” I gaped at Hagrid’s size, he was easily over three meters, it wasn’t possible! Gigantic. I blinked away the spots in my vision from looking at his lamp before huddling closer to the boys to avoid the cold. 

“C’mon, follow me - any more firs’-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’-years follow me!” 

When Hogwarts came into view before we got on the boats, I froze on the spot by Harry’s side. It was- It was… 

It was beautiful. 

Tall, and bursting with magic and I swore it glittered. 

I had seen grand architectures before, but it wasn't that that made Hogwarts so impressive and awe-strucking. It reeked of magic, the walls seemed built on it and I had a feeling that if it could talk, it would be welcoming us.

“Star.” I snapped out of my awe-induced gaping and allowed Ron to tug on my sleeve and help me inside one of the boats we shared with a detached girl, she paid no mind to us and we extended her the same courtesy. 

When I looked to the side, Neville was sharing a boat with Hermione and the Patil twins, Trevor was firmly in his grip and he sent me a tiny smile before I returned my eyes to the castle, gripping the sides of the boat and trying not to think what was under us as I marveled on the magical barrier washing over me, a tug on my chest made me breathe out a sigh. 

Home. 

It felt like home. 

We kept Harry between us, a silent agreement that people wouldn’t look at us, that this tiny boy would be the one everyone had their eyes on, and that he was in equal parts terrified and excited. 

Walking up the steps, we all stared up at the giant doors, Hagrid seemed to make a silent headcount before raising his huge fist to knock on the door.

By the time Professor McGonagall had us following her into the Entrance Hall, the whole group of us first years had huddled together at the chattering sound of the voices and audience waiting for us inside the Great Hall. 

She went on to talk about the four houses and how they worked, and it was then that I felt like my breakfast and the sandwiches might make an appearance very soon. 

God, what if they send me back? No, that’s not a stupid reaction, what if they find out I’m not supposed to be here?! 

What if Dumbledore knows I’m an impostor and that I probably took over some kid and that I’m wearing them as a meat suit?! THERE HADN’T BEEN ANY LILIUM IN HARRY’S YEAR, AFTER ALL!

Oh God, they’re going to send me to Azkaban. They were going to wipe me dry of all my knowledge and then they were probably going to have me kissed, oh God. Oh Morgana. 

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” 

Her eyes moved through us, and there was a moment where she paused in our group, eyes moving between Harry and me, pausing and narrowing them, and I shit you not, I almost turned tail and ran out to beg the Express to take me back home.

Harry, the poor boy, tried to flatten his hair down while Ron scrubbed his nose hard and I- Well, I just made sure to freeze to stop myself from running out. 

Professor McGonagall finally walked away, leaving me with two nervous boys discussing how they’d get sorted, and frozen like I was about to walk to my death. I didn’t even startle at the ghosts' appearances, I only tuned back in once they were interrupted by the animagus’ sharp voice again. 

Turning hastily at Harry and Ron, I reached out both hands, using one to try to flatten Harry’s hair down, as if he hadn’t been trying to do the same before, brushing my thumb against Ron’s nose. Neither tried to bat me away, and honestly, Harry even lowered his head more in apparent hopes that I could do something he couldn’t. 

“The Sorting is about to start. Now, form a line and follow me.” Harry fell into step behind me and in front of Ron while a boy in sandy hair walked in front of me. I felt like I was always coming short with words to describe how magnificent everything was; it felt like a dream to look up to the ceiling and see the sky and the candles, the tables, and the students all chittering excitedly while we followed the transfiguration professor. 

When she pulled out the hat, I made an effort not to grimace. The thing was old and looked dusty and dirty, if the Gods were good I wouldn’t get lice from it. I was so lost in my stupid attempt to distract myself by begging not to get lice, that I missed the hat singing, only returning to my body once the applause broke out in the Hall, looking over my shoulder at the stunned boys. 

“So we’ve just got to try on the hat! I’ll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll .” Foreshadowing, anyone?

It was only when the names started to get called that I thought about which house I’d be sent to if the hat doesn't scream about me being an imposter. With all the years since I’ve learned about magic, and about how I’d come to Hogwarts, I never gave much thought about which house I’d be sent to, I only knew it wouldn’t be Slytherin. 

For all of my planning and ambition, I know it lacks in me the cunning needed and I don’t care about greatness. 

If anything, I seriously considered Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, more the former than the latter. I’d keep getting stuck outside the common room with all the fucking riddles, no, I’d probably end up in Hufflepuff. 

No problem there, Cedric was- is from Hufflepuff and the Goblet of Fire chose him, didn’t it? It deemed a Hufflepuff as the one with the greatest chance of success, out of everyone else from the school.

I just hoped I could still be friends with Harry and Ron even if we didn’t share a common room. 

“Malfoy, Draco!” In true fashion, the hat had barely touched his hair when it shouted his house. I shared a humorous snort with Harry before steeling myself, knowing I was soon to come.

“McKinnon, Lilium!” I took a deep breath and marched up the stairs under the staring from the high table and the students. I was sure I heard the twins shouting something about ‘their’ firstie. To be honest, I couldn’t really see anything, I had tunnel vision on the stool and hat, smiling nervously at Professor McGonagall before taking a seat. 

I nearly jumped again when the hat covered my eyes and my sight of the Hall.

“My, my. This is a mess!” I clutched the stool under me, ignoring the way the hat laughed in my head as my heart thundered against my ribs. “Settle down, Miss McKinnon, you are not in danger from me. I am merely an old hat and I can’t tell anyone but yourself what I’ve seen inside your head, do not fret.” 

Oh goody. Oh shit. Ah. I think I was going into cardiac arrest. 

It laughed again as I relaxed, and I swore I felt like there was a little gremlin scurrying around in my head looking around. An image of it chest deep inside my trunk of memories, legs up and dangling as it snickered, looking through everything like a little shit burned behind my eyes.

“Ohohoho, it's been a while since I've had one of you. Ah, you think Hufflepuff, do you? ”

Well, I am loyal and hardworking, and I’d keep getting locked out of Ravenclaw common rooms. I'm shite at riddles, let me tell you. And Slytherin is a no go, don’t wanna. So yes, Hufflepuff. Also, what do you mean by one of-

“Yes, yes, you are missing one house, though, aren’t you?” I felt myself stiffen, it wouldn’t be that easy, would it? “Yes, it would. After all, isn’t it your family motto? audentes fortuna iuvat. Fortune Favours the Brave, Miss McKinnon. What you seek, what you’ll do, it is nothing short of brave, in the end. Wouldn't you agree?”

Is it?

“Yes, I reckon you’d achieve what you want better in GRYFFINDOR!” 

The sound returned to me once Professor McGonagall lifted the hat from my head, making me blink and hold back a laugh at the twins' shouts as I sent Harry and Ron big smiles and two thumbs-ups. Smiling up at my new Head of House as she gave me a tight one in return, bowing her head before I skipped to the table making a ruckus. 

Before I could reach Neville and Hermione, two arms shot out and snagged me into a seat between them. 

“I knew that spunk was all Gryffindor!” Twin 2 teased as I still tried to situate myself and understand how I found myself in that situation. “Didn’t you know, George?”

“I did, Fred! You, Miss McKinnon, just won us two galleons!” 

“For -?” I smiled at Percy, who nodded my way when I looked over to wave at Neville and Hermione as the sneering lone boy from the train was called up to the stool.

“You see, dear Liliu-”

“Call me that and I’ll make sure you can only shit your teeth for the next few months.” Fred paused his speech, blinking at me owlish as I clapped for the quiet boy making his way to Slytherin. Theodore Nott. Did he have any role in the books besides being a Death Eater kid? I finally turned back to the twin in my right when I realized he was torn between being thrilled and horrified. “Lily, Lils, or Star. Do not call me Lilium.” 

“Dear Merlin.” George muttered from behind me, and his twin was halted from giving me what I knew was a very excited response if the way he looked downright gleeful when Harry was called to the stool. 

It would’ve been hilarious how you could hear a pin drop, but at the same time, how loud it was (like everyone was collectively whispering) if that wasn’t a scared eleven-year-old causing it. 

I smiled reassuringly at him when he searched for me in the Gryffindor table, and if there was ever any sway in my decision to protect him, they were demolished and shattered when he looked at me the way he did. I didn’t remember reading how terrified he felt, but when he searched for me, I knew.

I was suddenly reminded of that day in 81’, when mum held me and cried the night away the day after finding out I was the last family she had. The feeling of being needed, of wanting to protect . It clawed on my chest the longer he sat, hunching on himself and arguing that he shouldn’t go to an ‘evil ’ house, that the hat is telling him about his ambitions to prove himself- 

“GRYFFINDOR! ” The ruckus was so loud it felt like the table shook, but seeing as I was up on my feet shouting just as much as the twins by each of my side, I didn’t begrudge my new house for it.

Harry was beaming as he jogged in our direction, his eyes shining at being received with opened arms, he ended up sitting between George and me, everyone peering around to greet the boy as I nudged him gently when his eyes moved to the high table, waving at Hagrid before we whispered in excited low tones, watching the rest of the sorting. I shouted just as hard when Ron was chosen to our house, whistling and clapping loudly.

“Well done, Ron. Excellent!” I shared a look with Fred before breaking into snickers, beaming at Ron and his elated expression.

“We’re all together!” Both boys smiled widely at my words before turning to Dumbledore when he got to his feet, beaming and with his arms out as if he wanted to hug everyone.

“Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!” 

There was a pause in the first years as we tried to make sense of his words, I tried to recall if they had actually meant something, or if he was just… Taking the piss. 

“Is he a bit mad?”

“Mad? He’s a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?” I snickered again at the boys’ flabbergasted expressions at the sight of the food, and I pilled my plate before turning to look at Fred again. 

“So. Two galleons?” 

“Why, yes, Starlight-”

“Star.”

“-with the way you went around the train greeting everyone, people were betting on Hufflepuff!” He carried on as if I hadn’t interrupted him, actually moving to keep placing sausages on my plate even as I kept putting them back. “But not us, oh no. We-”

“-recognize Gryffindors when we see them, that we do!” George spoke over Harry’s head, seeing as the boy was talking with Nearly Headless Nick, who had just thrown his head back into place (thank the Gods). 

The conversation flowed between everyone, even Hermione, who was telling her own experience when Professor McGonagall showed up at her house and transfigured the center table into a pig.

By the time dessert was served and I was helping myself to unhealthy amounts of ice cream, the topics had turned into families, making me scowl when Neville told how his first accidental magic happened. 

“Well, that’s not ok.” Harry nudged me at my mutter, but I shook my head and smiled when Finnegan turned to ask me about my family. “Well, I don’t know if I’m considered half or not? Mum’s a squib, but I think my father was a wizard. Don’t know, never met him.” There was a moment of silence as I held in a snort at them not knowing what to say to that, until I couldn’t hold it in and shook my head. “I don’t care, mum doesn’t either. I only learned about magic when I had my first accidental magic, though. And although mum told me about magic, I was raised muggle.” I shrugged and the conversation moved on from me.

I followed Harry’s eyes and had my first look at Quirrelmort and Snape. Did he not feel the twinge in his mark being literally by his old master's side? I would’ve asked what was the problem when Harry hissed and clasped a hand to his forehead if Snape’s expression hadn’t frozen me to the spot.

Absolute hatred glinted on his eyes, his lip curled over his teeth and I had a feeling that he had snarled, if the way Quirrel flinched away had something to say about it. I looked at Harry as he asked Percy who Snape was, but when I looked back, the Potions professor wasn’t looking at us anymore. 

Trying to ignore the feeling of foreboding, I exchanged a look with Harry and shrugged, trying to smooth the worried crease between his eyes. 

“Maybe he got a really bad stomach ache?” The boy laughed quietly and I nudged him gently, smiling as the dishes finally disappeared in sync with Dumbledore getting up again. 

His warning of certain death was met with the twins starting to plot over Harry and I’s head even as Hermione sent them a grave glare, and I had to bite back a snicker at their idiotic plans. 

To be honest, I don’t remember much of what happened after- I should’ve ! Especially considering that Percy was showing the way to the Gryffindor tower and I’m sure he was giving us important notices, I just remember ducking from Peeves, the password was- Well something Draco, then four of us girls were guided up our dormitory. 

I remember waving at Lavender and Parvati, helping Hermione with something, and then I was out cold.

Chapter Text

The first week of class happened without much fuss, the only big things for me was that Harry and Ron tended to follow me around like two lost duckling when they quickly realized that I seemed to remember the paths and classes better than them, and that I was very trigger happy with my stinging jinxes for peepers. 

Harry especially had taken to walking to my left while Ron flanked his other side, both smartly out of range from my wand as I worked the students like they were Pavlov dogs; talk about or stare at Harry like he's an animal in the zoo, get stinged. 

It was still a work in progress, but as the week progressed, people seemed to be getting the memo. 

The classes were good, and surprisingly, both boys had taken to look into my pre-taken notes after classes, the theory was a brain fumble and they wholeheartedly agreed with me. I was slightly surprised that they weren’t lazing about it, and I knew I must’ve done something that made them at least more interested than book Harry and Ron, what it was, I wasn’t sure. 

Maybe because I explained it after? So they didn’t get too frustrated and dropped them? Don’t know.

I mean, I had an idea. 

It felt like Ron was just following Harry and I's wave, and decided that 'hey, explaining basic stuff I grew up knowing to these two muggle raised friends who have no idea what I'm talking about feels pretty good.'

And Harry- well, I think canon Harry just followed Ron's actions and with how overbearing the one person who demanded that he studied was- yeah. 

What I did know was that Hermione was on her way of either approaching me to have a study session and be my best friend or on her way to make me her arch nemesis. In my defence, I hadn’t acted like her, jumping to answer everything, so it’s not like I was cutting her short, but she still seemed peeved when the professors called on me. 

Astronomy was ok, I supposed. Having a hyperfixation with constellations and planets helped, but it still grated on me waking up early as hell the day after midnight classes, even more so by the fact that I stupidly ignored the upper years hints of taking naps before Astronomy, only thinking they were teasing us for being younger. 

Professor Sprout was an angel and she seemed to happily accept staying a bit after classes to explain more difficult questions, and the woman was just genuinely- nice. Herbology was surprisingly interesting, and Harry seemed mighty impressed with all the magical plants, though I was pretty sure the novice of it was going to die out soon seeing I don't remember reading anything about him being mad about plants in canon.

History of magic was as expected, most people drooled, my friends included, while I read and took my own notes from the book, tuning out Binns' voice, knowing that if I tried paying attention I'd just fall asleep, like Ron. I tried bribing the twins to give me their old exams so I’d know what we’d study, but the boys only laughed about me thinking they'd actually save that rubbish. (Note, ask if Percy had saved his. He seemed the type.)

Speaking of the menaces, they had taken to proclaiming that I was under their jurisdiction… I don't think they knew what that meant and I was too scared to ask if  they did or what they interpreted as someone being under their jurisdiction. I didn’t really care, though, they were funny as hell and always down to have arguments with me where we ended up offending each other (lovingly, of course). So as long as I didn't end up on the end of their testing, I was chill being "under their jurisdiction".

Charms was the one I had the best time. Even if it wasn’t for how I knew I had an affinity to it, Professor Flitwick was just great, and he explained the theory in such a way that made me keep writing and writing and putting post-its and drinking everything that came out of his mouth. In short: I loved it. It was pure art, even if we had yet to try anything, I just knew, and it seemed that professor Flitwick picked on how eager I was on his class and kept sending me indulging smiles every time my hand shot up to ask something.

Transfiguration on the other hand… It’s not that Professor McGonagall was a bad teacher, but I had a small inkling she just didn’t like me very much. Even if I did change the damn match into a needle. I had practiced before, but the woman just hummed at it, twisted her lips and then carried on to showing Hermione’s transfigured needle to the class. Even if I did transfigure mine first- You know what, whatever! Yes, I was a little bitter but whatever! I didn't need her approval...

It was a challenging class and by the Gods would I make it my bitch even if it kills me.

Charms came to me naturally, while Transfiguration, I was learning, had more to do with visualization, something harder for me to do. Not impossible, but if I don't practice beforehand or learn how to not be utter shite at visualizing, Harry would very soon be surpassing me. 

There was a reason it had taken me years to sort through my memories of the books in what I was starting to believe was a bastardized version of Occlumency. Intention, which was needed for Charms, I had plenty, but visualization? Hell no. 

Disgusting, absolutely foul. It wasn't easy for me to imagine that it was still fucking wood, even if it seemed like metal, even if it broke like metal, EVEN IF IT PRICKED LIKE METAL. And you're trying to tell me, it will go back to looking like wood, AND NOT ONLY THAT, IT HAS BEEN WOOD THIS WHOLE TIME? Fucking lies. 

And I have to believe it's metal even if I know it isn't?! 

ANYWAYS.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was a fucking joke and I kept making faces at Quirrel’s turban whenever he turned his back. Being in the class and knowing what was there made it very easy to know why most people were on edge (even if everyone thought it was because the professor himself was skittish), the smell of garlic barely concealed the stench of necrosis coming from his turban, and more than once I had to genuinely stop myself from gagging at both the smell and the knowledge of what lay underneath.

It also took a lot in me to not throw things at Voldemort’s face. 

Oh well, I coped by playing pretend and whispering mean things about the professor under my breath that always made Seamus snicker and when Lavender caught, she'd give the cutest fucking giggle. I kept it about his lack of teaching skills and the smelly turban, sometimes about how shiny his head must be and how he must've use the turban so it wouldn't distract us from his lessons, not that they were eye-catching to begin with, like ok asshole you have a Dark Lord growing in the back of your head, but at least be a proper teacher! 

Urgh. Useless. 

Either way, I wasn't really holding hope for it and I was making proper plans to drill Remus about going over the more important things from first and second years; I would resort to blackmail if I needed to. 

So, Friday finally arrived. 

It was stupidly easy to convince the boys to memorize a few things about potions, I had been trying ever since we got our timetables under the whispers of hearing that every Gryffindor year had someone who was singled out, and that maybe if we were called on, we could escape it by knowing something. 

They whined a little, but after a fourth year who overheard me at the table nodded his head and leaned in telling us about how he escaped that fate by the skin of his teeth, the boys agreed to sit with me every day while doing our homework to memorize a few things before eventually doing something else. 

It was a little interesting seeing Ron studying. It was clear he would rather be doing something else, but I think after charms where he won Gryffindor a point by asking about something I had pointed out the day before, he took a little begrudgingly liking to it.  Besides, after, I would force him to teach me chess and he seemed to enjoy talking about something he knew, so it was a nice balance. 

And surprisingly, Harry seemed to enjoy Potions (at least in theory and before Snape throttled on his dreams), when I asked about it, he whispered about how he likes cooking, how it was just following instructions and unlike all the new things about magic, that he knew how to do. 

I tried saving my judgement about Snape and made a very big effort to push away all my fanon memories of him, it would do me no good to think about fake redemptions or bashings. As I had been quickly learning throughout the week, these people were not mere characters I could fit in their boxes, they had minds and lives of their own and it would do me good to remember that they existed and had opinions outside of Harry's orbit. 

For instance: Dean Thomas was funny as shit and on a mission to troll wizards and witches about the muggle world, and how they actually invented their own hovering transports, explaining in detail a skateboard that floated with science. He had the best fucking pokerface whenever Hermione would shriek that it was a lie, that he took the idea from Back to the Future.

I shit you not, even I started to wonder if I just "hadn't seen it yet". That boy was terrifying and I loved him and I started to back him up whenever someone asked about a hoverboard. 

It got so bad that the Muggles Studies professor quietly approached us to know if it was actually true and if we could have someone send one for her to show in her third year class after too many Gryffindors asked if it was real or not. 

He still somehow maintained the great poker face while explaining (TO A PROFESSOR) that only a select few had the hoverboard and that they were still testing to manufacture for real while I had a hard time not whimpering from around my fist. 

The Weasley twins were very proud.

Parvati had some crazy knowledge about clothing and fabrics, and I had to stop Hermione from scoffing when the girl started info-dumping about it, because every knowledge and hobbie is fucking valid, alright, Granger? Apparently her family had a fabric producing and exporting empire, and as the oldest she was going to inherit  it, but had plans of sharing it with her twin, even if Padma was more interested in working with searching how to better the products. 

There were even people I didn't know the name in canon but that were just genuinely fucking nice.

Like Marcia Railmare, who always herded the other sixth years away from the couch so us firsties could have our turn in it. 

Or Matthew Goldlie, the other dorm mate of the twins and Lee, who was everyone's inside man to avoiding the pranks by being a great eavesdropper. He didn't discriminate against houses and would often be found receiving sugar quills as payment for warning the snakes about an incoming prank.

Hell, even the twins had personalities besides the pranksters Harry always thought of them. 

Of course, they were both geniuses, that I knew already, but I also learned that both were unapologetically sweet. 

They often could be found with a homesick firstie (no matter what house), bugging them until they laughed. I was one of them, and the fact that they also spent the entire first week of classes sticking around the common room at night to wait for the inevitable sad firstie- I just loved them, alright? 

The Weasleys were my babies and that included Percy too. It's a wonder how the twins hadn't noticed that their older brother turned a blind eye to their harmless actions, or how Ron hadn't heard how much he gloats about how his youngest brother is a chess prodigy. 

I really needed to stop being surprised by the fact that I was not receiving information from Harry's point of view. 

Breakfast was a light affair, both boys were more confident on making their way to the Great Hall and they didn't ask once if they had taken the wrong turn, nor did I have to pull them away from the wrong stairs, so they started in a good mood even if I was rather quiet, contemplating how the class might go with Harry knowing the answers (I had drilled the three infamous questions a lot on both of them, lying about hearing one of the Slytherin prefects having chosen those for Snape to use on the first year of Gryffs).

"We have Double Potions today, right?" Ron asked, pulling his timetable as I slid on Neville's side, smiling sleeply at him while the boys settled in front of me. "We'll see if Snape's as bad as Star has been saying and if all that nagging had any use." 

Harry snickered as I rolled my eyes.

"You laugh at me now but just you wait until he calls on you and you know why Antimony can only be used molten because-"

"It's property is of high acidity and having it molten allows one to neutralize the toxicity of it, I know, I know." Ron grumbled, piling food on his plate and missing the blinking surprise on his older brother's face a few ways down the table. Percy smiled proudly before turning, still smiling, to his own book. 

"I'm feeling some foreboding, Ron! I just know it's one of us." He snorted, stuffing his face while Harry shook his head almost fondly at my loud whisper, and I only sighed before turning to Neville as I made my plate. "And you, Nev? Have you studied too?"

"A little." His face was red and he squirmed a little on the spot, still not completely used to us addressing him, even as I made it clear that I very much enjoyed his company and plant info-dump. "I just don't want him to see me."

"I think if you don't get too nervous, you'll do just fine. You're great at Herbology, and that's really close to potions, isn't it?" 

He flushed even more, but was saved from having to respond to my praise as the owls swooped with the morning mail. I kept my promise to mum by writing every other day, and since we're in Scotland, it didn't take long for her to get my letters, not that we needed with my ring and her bracelet, but it was the act of sending letters. 

She seemed very happy that I had been sorted into Gryffindor, and told me that McKinnons were famous for constantly being sorted into that house. Not that she had told me that before, what with how she kept anything of our family close to her chest.

I cooed at Hedwig when she swooped down to drop a note for Harry and a letter for me with a thick package and a thin gift box. My lack of owl had been solved by Harry graciously allowing me to use the pretty girl to send mum my letters. 

While Harry opened his note eagerly, I smiled down at my letter, not a lot to say, since it was her second letter and most of it she either sent me through my ring and it had only been a few days since my first letter about my new friends and my new house. 

...I hope you're having fun and not causing much chaos, my little Star. 

Happy birthday, my love. I miss you plenty! Mr. Sullivan thinks you'd like the book he picked out, and my gift for you should be arriving within the week, I didn’t want to overwhelm poor Hedwig. Do you think we should invest in an owl?

Try not to hex too many people for Harry, please.

Speaking of, when you told me what you did about Harry, I remembered that your aunt had been in the same house as his parents, and she had plenty of pictures with them. I think he'd have better use for those instead of letting them gather dust in our vault. 

Tha gaol agam ort, mo rionnag bheag.

Ps: Have I told you that your aunt named you? I think you can guess who she paid homage to.

My eyes boggled at her letter, eyeing the package I had been opening and shooting a look at Harry, who had been writing a reply to send back to Hagrid. Stuffing my letter and the package in my bag, I promised myself to give it to him after classes, he'd need his wits about him for Potions, and I think it'd be a good distraction to his disappointment when Snape inevitably tried to pick on him.

Being named after Lily Potter was a little surprising. 

Actually a lot surprising, seeing as I was born before she turned into a hero for the Wizarding world, I had only assumed it was a coincidence. And what was that about my aunt naming me? 

I knew mum and aunt Lene were close, but with how I was kept away from them- well, let's just say I'm surprised, alright?

"Mum says hi, Harry." He quirked a bemused smile and I shrugged, smiling softly and pushing a few fruits into his plate even as he sighed exasperatedly at it, but allowed me to do so. I tried to forget about the pictures on my bag, and it wasn't hard when I looked at how eager Harry was for Potions and when I opened my gift.

"What's that?"

"Mum's future boyfriend sent me a birthday gift."

"It's your birthday!?" They hissed in unison and I shushed them, glaring and looking around to see that only Neville and Percy seemed to have heard him, the latter raised his eyes to me and bowed his head respectfully. 

"Happy birthday, Lily."

"Thank you, Percy." My cheeks were on fire as other people started to shoot me congratulations, picking up from whoever was closest, by the time I was able to finally look at my 'Great and Silly Charms and their uses', it was already too late for me to start the reading, especially with the twins loudly singing happy birthday by my other side and making me pull Neville with me so I could escape the attention as they laughed.

Ron was the only one matching my sour mood, like we were walking to our deaths while Harry was more excited than he probably had been in canon, especially after he had actually taken interest in it when reading about potion making.

It was a good thing we decided to arrive a little earlier, it gave me a little insight on how the Slytherins worked. 

All of them were there, while only a few of us had decided to arrive earlier. In consequence, the baby snakes took most of the walls in what looked like a strategic placement. Which, fair, if you're at a table near a wall, you only have to worry about sabotage coming from one side of you. 

Harry was quietly "woah-ing" at everything around while I shuddered at the sight of pickled animals floating in the jars, pulling the sleeve of his robe so we could seat near Zabini, Nott and Greengrass instead of where he probably sat in canon, near Draco and his ilk. 

I smiled at the Slytherins as I sat, ignoring their suspicious raised brows as I turned to chat with Neville, who sat behind me, while the boys entertained themselves with pointing out all the ugly and disgusting things in the jars. 

Neville seemed more than happy to answer my questions about plants, relaxing little by little as he info-dumped about the magical herbs more commonly used in potions and their properties.

One day I'd have a talk with him about the best ways to use them. 

"How do you know all of that?" We jumped at the female voice, turning to look at Greengrass as she blinked at Neville, cheeks slightly pink at her outburst before she cooled her expression. Zabini had his eyes narrowed assessingly, sizing up Neville as the boy started to sweat nervously again. 

"I-I-I- I like p-plants." I straightened to my full height to stare them down, daring them to say something mean about my friend's interest to his face. 

Nott rolled his eyes as Zabini snorted, making me narrow my eyes when Neville flinched. 

"Oh, puff down, McKinnon. We're not going to hurt your boyfriend." He scoffed, Neville was now a worrying shade of red and my posture attracted Harry and Ron's attention. The boy ignored the extra two glares he was receiving to turn to Neville again. "Are you already in charge of taking care of the Longbottom's greenhouses?" 

There was a few seconds of stunned silence before Neville cleared his throat and tried not to squeak his answer out. 

"A few - er - Gran's letting me care of the ones for perfumes and- cosmetics." He cleared his throat again and I raised my brows, turning to him in surprise. 

"Your family manufactures perfumes?"

"No- we just, you know, export… ingredients…" I huh-ed, tilting my head in thought. That's a little- well, that's new.

Families exist outside of Harry's orbit, Lilium.

Right. 

"You're a McKinnon and you didn't know that?" I turned back to Daphne Greengrass, studying in her baffled expression before I shrugged. 

"Should I?" By their faces, I had my answer. “What? Did the McKinnons and Longbottoms have something?”

“That’s- No, you’re- How-” She took a deep breath, looking over me at Harry. “At least tell me you knew about it.”

“Er…”

“Dear Merlin.” 

I couldn't help but snicker at her exasperated face and the way Zabini pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you telling me Harry Potter, grandson of Fleamont Potter, didn’t know the Longbottoms export ingredients!?” We all blinked at her and I shared a look with Harry. 

“My grandfather’s name was Fleamont?” 

There was a moment of silence as the Slytherin trio stared at us with blank faces, and I had to bite back my guffaw the longer they seemed on the brink of giving up ever talking to us. 

“We sell the ingredients for the manufacture of your grandfather’s Sleekeazy hair potion, Harry.” Neville supplied quietly, and if anything, Harry’s eyes shone even more than before. My heart broke at how he lit up at every crumb of information about his family, smiling at the thought of how he'd react at my mum’s gift for him. 

Harry leaned over my side to look at Daphne, a beaming smile on his lips and I bit back a snort at her reddening cheeks, even as she kept her face carefully blank. 

“Do you know much about my family? Will you tell me later?” Ron made a choking noise, slapping a hand over his mouth at the Slytherin’s face, and I pursed my lips trying not to laugh when her eyes grew bigger and bigger. “Did anyone else make potions? Are there any alive-”

“Are you sure you want to be seen with us evil Slytherins?” Zabini cut him off and we all watched as the trio tensed, turning defensive and I had to wonder just how bad it had been for them already when we were just a week in. 

“Are you going to say your family is better than others? Will you tell me I need to align myself with the right sorts?” My friend challenged back, narrowing his eyes at them when they raised their brows. 

“...It was Malfoy, wasn’t it?” Greengrass grumbled, rolling her eyes and waving her hand away dismissively. “He’s a git, don’t mind him.”

“We’re sure he was dropped as a baby.” Ron guffawed at Zabini’s words and I followed soon, trying to tamper the noise down as I took notice of the rest of the houses staring at us with various degrees of suspicion and bafflement. Thankfully, the only ones that cared about the stupid house-rivalry (besides Ron and Seamus to a degree) were the Slytherins and the trio simply didn’t seem to give a shit about the glaring from their own house. 

“See? You’re not so bad.” 

“Don’t say that, Harry. They have a reputation to uphold.” The trio snickered and slowly started to relax again, even Neville (who was still a little nervous), was getting comfortable to laugh quietly.

“Yes, Potter. People can’t know we have souls.”

“No one would believe that, don’t worry.” Zabini’s smile slowly stretched showing his pearly white straight teeth and I got a little dizzy at the sight of it. That’s a blinding smile. Nott snickered while Daphne rolled her eyes, but a little smile was pulling at the end of her mouth. 

“My, my. What is this? Does the Gryff have some claws, afterall?” 

“There’s two of them.” Ron whined from his spot, and we were stopped from laughing at the door slamming open. We all quickly turned to the front, backs straight and eyes wide at the dramatic entry. 

Snape was… A big bat. His black cloak snapped as he power walked all the way to the front of the class, and it took a lot in me to not make a face at the antics. 

He started the register, voice quiet and cold, and I felt a shiver roll up my spine when he hissed my name, his dark eyes flitting up at me for a moment, and I knew I hadn’t imagined the disgusted sneer on his face when he did so. 

Harry exchanged an alarmed look with me and I shook my head, still baffled. 

While he continued to whisper the other names, I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew why he hated Harry, he saw James on the boy and the reminder that Lily didn’t love him the way he thought he deserved. So what the fuck was that about me? 

I took a moment to think it through, what did he see when he looked at me? A sneer formed on my lips as it dawned on me. 

He saw my aunt. 

He saw the McKinnon built, my nose and hair and he saw Marlene McKinnon, friend of Lily, who I’m named after.

My aunt, who he probably fought against. 

Was he there when they massacred my family? Is that why he already hates me? Is he being reminded of his mistakes, and as the pathetic man that he was, he couldn’t deal with facing me, so he’d bully me into submission?

I bet that was it, or in the best case scenario, my aunt bullied him too. 

Still, not fucking enough of an excuse to look at me like I had spat on his face.

Snape was a difficult character for me to describe, all I knew about him came filtered from Harry’s point of view, and since the boy hadn’t had a good vision of him, it’s not like I could trust it, but even with all the technical information I had of him, and even at his “redemption”... I just- I just always fucking hated him. 

To me Snape had been the epitome of a “nice guy”. He thought Lily owed him something because she was his friend, then when she made it clear it wouldn’t happen, he literally turned into a muggleborn killer. And I wasn’t fucking blind about the fact that he only turned sides because she was in danger, not because he knew what he was doing was wrong.

I knew that were it not for the skewed memory he had of her and whatever hold Dumbledore had of his balls, he would’ve probably ran tail right back to his fucking Lord. 

It always disgusted me how he treated Harry, the literal fucking memory of the woman he supposedly loved, like literal trash. 

“Ah, yes,” My eyes sharpened again at his soft voice, and Harry tensed by my side. “Harry Potter. Our new celebrity.” 

What a fucking snivelling cunt.

Harry frowned and I glared at Malfoy and his friends when they sniggered behind their hands, taking quiet notice that the only time he had looked up was at my name. 

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” my friend started squirming on his spot, still excited despite the terrible start. I had to give it to him, though, the man had presence. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic.” Fucking nerd. “I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…” 

I had to clamp a hand down on Harry’s knee when he started to excitedly shake his leg. Oh boy. Did I just create a Potions crazy boy? And I’m sure the tie it had with his family that Daphne and Neville told him just made him even more interested in it. “I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.” 

Again. Snivelling cunt.

Hermione was at the edge of her seat, and I exchanged looks with Ron over Harry’s head when he wasn’t that very far off. 

Oh boy. Oh boy  I was scared. Oh fuck. What if him liking potions fucked everything up? Ah shit, who knew what the little changes made! Fuck!

“Potter!” The three of us jumped, and I noticed that Harry’s eyes grew wider at being called, though there was an edge of challenge and excitement on him. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” 

Regret you’re not showing, Snivellus. 

“They’re part of the ingredients needed to brew a sleeping potion, sir. Um- The Draught of the Living Death?” I smirked when Snape paused, eyes narrowing and lip curling in a sneer that only made me smirk even more. Everyone ignored Hermione’s halfway up hand, and I wanted to snort at the way her hand slowly came down, but I was too elated at his distrustful face. 

“McKinnon!” I blinked at being called, and had to actually bite on my lip to not laugh in anger. Oh my fucking God. “Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

“In the stomach of a goat,” There was a moment of pause as I smiled slowly, his cheeks flushing in anger at the Gryffindor snickers before I finally added. “Sir."

“What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?” His eyes were glinting victoriously, but this pathetic little bitch had another thing coming. 

“They’re the same plant, sir… Also called Aconite.” 

His lips curled in a snarl and my smile widened again, I had trained these boys well , you fucking bitch. 

“What potion has use of Rose thorns, McKinnon?” Oh is this fucking bitch really asking me about sixth-year potions?!

"Amortentia, sir.” I didn’t bother hiding my smug smile, the chittering was starting around us, and it only made me even more petty. The fact that I only knew that because of the beauty spells and potions book didn’t need to be said, for all he knew I had read far ahead. 

“Three ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion.”

“Shredded Boomslang skin, powdered bicorn horn and a bit of the person you want to turn into.” Bitch, I had to know how hard it was that Hermione was so fucking smug for doing it.

“What can I use from a Chizpurfle?”

“Fang for wiggenweld potion, carapace as antidote for uncommon poisons.” That was right under Bezoar and a footnote on what other part of the magical pest was usable for potions. 

Holy shit, was the universe just helping me troll this fool?

“Name all the ingredients of the Shrinking Solution.” Spoke too soon.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck. you.

“Wormwood, cowbane, minced daisy roots, one- rat… spleen… and-”

“And?” This son of a bitch looked downright gleeful at me not knowing something. This is it. 

Fuck. Severus Snape. 

“Leech juice… and…” I gritted my teeth, glaring at him before sneering. “I don’t remember the rest, sir.” 

“Tut, tut - clearly some of you aren’t as smart as you think you are. You’ve missed peeled Shrivelfig and Sliced caterpillars, Miss McKinnon.”

I- 

Alright. 

Alright, Snivellus. I hope you choke on the venom you spit at my name.

He snapped at others, asking why they hadn’t been copying that down, as I took a fortifying breath. 

“I’ll never doubt you again, mate.” Ron whispered and I snorted, glaring holes at the professor when he turned and smiled coldly. 

Disgusting.

Stop it. 

“Two points will be taken from Gryffindor for all your cheek, McKinnon.” 

Arse.

Harry elbowed me when I licked my lips, ready to argue before he turned around and had us pairing up. The three of us looked between each other before I shrugged and turned around to pair with Neville, but the boy already had been dragged by Seamus. 

Twisting my lips, I turned to the Slytherins, raised a single brow as they also looked between each other, trying to decide who paired up.

“Who wants to toss the Galleon to pair with the Undesirable number 1?” I drawled, making them snort before Greengrass shrugged and jumped to her feet, moving to my table as I smiled at her. 

“Undesirable you might be, but you know your stuff, McKinnon.” Daphne smirked and I mirrored it, before turning back to Snape. 

The Potion making went very well, actually.

Daphne also had a good memory, she was a little shite at mincing things, so I took the job of preparing the ingredients while she poured them. We worked well, and with her good memory, there was no stopping to check how many times we needed to swirl. 

I, thankfully, avoided Neville’s accident. Which made Snape look at me as if I had actually sabotaged Neville instead of stopping the boy from getting hurt, it also didn’t help that I was paired with one of his Snakes and that we made an actual good job, so there wasn’t much he could talk about, and I think Harry kept surprising him by making good questions about the ingredients whenever he went to hover over their cauldron. And the little shit picked on that if he asked questions, Snape would begrudgingly not criticize his work or stop going all together if only to avoid having to answer them. 

He would've made a good snake.

Then, because he was a petty little bitch, he gave Daphne points for the perfect potion, and completely ignored me, which caused a few angry hisses from the Gryffindors, but I was planning. 

“Hey, which sound do you think is funnier, a duck quacking or a frog croaking?” Daphne blinked at me before narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

“Why do you ask?”

“For nefarious reasons.” I smiled softly, as if I wasn’t this close of screaming a big fat ‘FUCK YOU, YOU SNIVELLING BITCH!’ “So, duck or frog?”

She stared at me for a little before sighing tiredly, still putting down her own notes. 

“Duck.” 

“Good choice.” I waved at the Slytherin trio once I finally joined my own, slumping against Harry and groaning loudly on our way out. “What did I tell you? My foreboding is never wrong.”

“Cheer up, you told us it was going to be bad. You knew, and Fred and George are always losing points, it's not that bad.” Ron patted my shoulder as Harry snickered and tried to walk with my weight pressing down on him. 

I was almost our ginger friend’s height, being the second tallest in our year, losing only to said friend. I didn’t really care, maybe if this was my first time around growing up, but since it wasn’t, whenever someone had coughed an insult, I’d either just ignore it, or shrug at it. 

“What did you think, Harry?”

“He’s a git, but I liked making the potion.” Humming, I smiled down at him before finally pulling away so we could make our way to our next classes.

Ron and I accompanied Harry to Hagrid’s hut when the time came, it went pretty much as I expected, the only odd thing was that Hagrid would sometimes look between Harry and I like he was seeing ghosts, and I had to wonder just how much chaos had Aunt Marlene caused that most professors kept a wary look on me. 

But oh, just they wait until I’m big enough to use her leather jacket. 

Whatever my aunt had caused, was quickly forgotten with my cooing over Fang, who happily slobbered over me while the boys told Hagrid about our classes. I was too busy pressing kisses on Fang’s big head to care about Harry trying to grill the half-giant about the vault he had emptied. 

“Stinky boy! So stinky!” I baby talked the huge dog, cooing again and again just to see his tail wag even harder. 

Soon enough, we were leaving with pockets full of cake rocks and dog drool. 

It was only when they collapsed on a table with chess that I finally plucked mum’s letter and package from my bag, fiddling with them and trying to find the best way to bring it up. Pursing my lips, I just decided to do it. 

“Harry?” The boy made a noise, biting the tip of his tongue in concentration for his next move as Ron raised his eyes at me, not as serious about the game seeing as he could throttle us blindfolded. Actually, that might be a good idea one of these days. “So, I wrote to mum about you and Ron, and she told me something interesting.”

He finally looked at me after making his move, starting to get good at ignoring the angry shouts of the pieces, eyeing the letter and package curiously before peering up at me. 

“So, my aunt named me, right? I didn’t know that. But, she named me after a flower constellation, the Lily.” His eyes lit up in recognition and a smile stretched on his face as I grinned at him. “My aunt was really good friends with your mum, so much so that I’m named after her and anyways- Mum found these, and we think you should have it.” 

I extended the package, and their game was all but forgotten as Harry slowly took the package from my hands. 

“What is it?” 

“My aunt had a bunch of photos from when she was in Hogwarts, and well…” I shrugged nervously, pointing at his hands with my chin. Harry paused, eyes big and wide and I swore they turned misty as he slowly lowered his eyes back at his hands. 

“What’re you waiting for, mate? Open it!” Ron eagerly pushed the forgotten game to the side as I approached to crowd the table when Harry gently tipped the pictures into it. 

There were so many.

Some were regular muggle ones, the polaroid kind. 

I pressed a hand on Harry’s back when he tightened his hold on a moving one of James and Lily. 

It was clearly a picture taken sneakily, they were under a tree, she had a forgotten book on her lap and her head rested on his shoulder, laughing as he talked excitedly, hands making grand gestures, a tiny smile on his lips that made it clear he was revelling in her laughs. 

They were beautiful together. 

There was writing behind it: 1976, James finally makes Lily laugh. 

The rest was mostly Lily and her friends.

They were best friends, aunt Lene and Lily, it was clear. There were a few taken in the infirmary where aunt Marlene has a cast in her arm and is cheering with an equally hurt James while Lily looks absolutely done.

There were some of just Marlene and James, mostly doing dumb things, even out in the muggle world. It was quite clear mum had avoided sending any with the rest of the Marauders in it, not that Harry would know, but I doubted my aunt, who looked like the perfect picture of punk rock, chaos embodied, didn’t run along with them. 

“Thank you.” I pressed myself against his side, circling his shoulder and looking down at the same pictures as him. "Are- Are you sure you want me to have it? Your- Your aunt’s in them too.”

“I’m sure, Harry.” The boy was shaking a little, tracing a skinny finger on a still picture of his mother sitting on the armrest of the very chair Ron was sitting on, that once James Potter occupied, circling his girlfriend’s waist with his arm while moving a piece of chess, mid-laugh. 

With them so close it was easy to see how Harry looked like his father. It truly was like seeing a ghost, a darker copy of the boy I was squeezing. 

I poked his side gently, a smile curling on my lips as I spoke softly. 

“Remember what you asked on the train? His hair and her eyes, there’s your family magic.” 

The boy’s smile was enough for me to forget all the trouble that was to come. 

Looking at a picture of James and Lily Potter, I made a quiet promise to myself, Harry would not carry the weight of saving the world by himself. He’d have a childhood besides solving mysteries and saving Hogwarts over and over again. 

I’ll watch out for him, I promise.

Chapter Text

So, I wouldn't call myself a genius, but I was smart.  And petty. And I held a big fucking grudge. Always had. Even in the other world.

Point being: Snivellus was going to pay. 

I had a few plans, of course, most I'm sure he'd be able to avoid, so I'd need to be sneaky. Starting with befriending the house-elves, and to do so I needed to find the damn kitchens. 

Now, I could ask the twins where it was, they'd probably point me there without asking many questions, but they were smart enough to link what would happen if I succeeded, to me asking for help to sneak around and want in on whatever I was about to cause. Besides, my first bit of revenge I wanted to do by myself. So that was how I was found Saturday morning telling the boys I was going to explore and that they should relax a little, since we had already done our homework the day they were assigned (Ron was very smug to say that to Hermione when she nagged them why they weren't doing their homework like most of them). 

I knew it was near the Hufflepuff entrance, but I didn't know where that was, only that it was also near the dungeons? 

It was a work in progress, and I had gotten lost into random passageways more than once, trying to burn them to memory so I could visit them another time to check where they went. 

I was just about to give up for the day, since I had already missed lunch, when my savior arrived in the form of another known and loved character.

"Oh, are you lost?" I blinked up at pretty-boy-Cedric in surprise. He was… pretty. Like, prettier than Robert Pattinson playing him. Blushy cheeks and all.

I don’t think handsome applied, he was much more delicate looking, softer. Hence, pretty.

Dear God. If he decides to be a Dark Lord, I might just sign up. Holy shite. I suddenly understood why people might have followed Riddle when he was still beautiful. Damn.

Blinking away the haze that always came with meeting a Pretty Person™, I shrugged shyly, wringing my hands and pretending I didn't notice his softening eyes.

"I was looking for the kitchens… it'll be Hermione's birthday soon and I wanted to ask if I could bake a cake- but I haven't found it yet and I really wanted time to prepare everything because I don't think people will remember it and I don't want her to spend it without a cake." I widened my eyes, blinking slowly and trying to look as innocent as I could, knowing it was always harder for me with my blanket of confidence mum had draped over my shoulders.

His posture softened even more and I bit back a smirk. 

"Oh, that's really nice of you. Come on, then. I'll take you there." 

Bingo. 

Rushing to his side, I smiled up at him and tried not to skip my way to the kitchen. 

"Thank you! How's the Hufflepuff common room? I asked the sorting hat if I could go to Hufflepuff and it said I'd like it there and could fit in but that I was too reckless and brave to not put me in Gryffindor." He smiled down at my babble, quirking a surprised brow up. 

"You did? Most people ask to not go to Hufflepuff." I waved my hand away dismissively.

"Stupid, people dismiss Puffs like there isn't a reason no one actively messes with one of you. The whole loyal and hardworking thing is terrifying. You mess with one you're messing with the whole house, no sir, thank you very much. Besides, people seem to forget that most if not all competent workers from the Ministry are Hufflepuffs." He chuckled quietly as I shrugged. "I think I would've liked it, but I'm really happy at Gryffindor. We have these old armchairs that are so comfortable."

"Hm." 

Honestly? Babbling like a kid felt good, and he seemed to enjoy hearing me talk about my house and Hufflepuff, making noises and laughing at my tales with Dean. Then I started telling him how the day before was weird because it was the first birthday I spent without my mum.

I don't know how we ended up where we did, with me crying on Cedric's chest as he patted my back and swayed us gently but bloody hell. Did I need that. 

I blame it on his sympathetic soft eyes and on his nice hums.

"You'll- you'll- you'll m-make a g-grea-at pr-prefec-c-ft." I hiccuped, pushing my face even more on his chest when he chuckled again and squeezed me tighter. 

"Thank you, can you walk a little? The kitchen is just around the corner, then we can talk some more with hot chocolate, hm?" 

He guided me in front of a fruit bowl painting, and I couldn't help but snort at the pear's giggle before it turned into a knob. 

"Mister Diggory!" Squeaky voices started to pipe up while I was still sniffling and being steered into the closest table. A few elves squawked at the sight of me in tears, fluttering around us and jumping from one foot to another, wringing their hands nervously as I tried calming down. 

"Is Missy hurt!? What does Missy need!?" One of them finally asked when Cedric smiled their way. 

"I'm okay, thank you- actually…" I flushed, shooting a look at Cedric as he settled in front of me while I leaned closer to the eager house-elves and whispered. "Do you guys still have leftovers from lunch? I was walking around and missed it-"

"Leftovers!?" They shrieked and I jumped back in surprise as the one that spoke up first glared at me and placed his skinny hands on his narrow hips. "We elveses will not serve young missy leftovers."  

"Oh, I didn't mean-"

"Just let them do their thing." Cedric chuckled and I sighed, smiling down at the still glaring elf. 

"Thank you… what are your names?" 

I spent some time learning most of the names I could, I even actually made a request for a small cake that four could eat (just us girls) and if they could send it to our dorm on the night of Hermione's birthday. 

Cedric kept himself quiet, just watching as my mood slowly started to lift with the house-elves. They were just… so… good. Genuinely. And a little sassy too!

I was in the middle of having my late lunch when I finally smiled embarrassed at the older boy, seeing him look at me amusedly from over his tea. 

"I'm sorry for breaking down on you, Diggory."

The boy waved a hand dismissively, a smile on his face when he lowered his mug.

"It's no problem, McKinnon. We all went through our homesick phase. It'll get easier, and… well, I'm sure someone already told you, but- if you really want to talk with someone that isn't a student, Sprout has her office open for Slytherins and Gryffindors too. It's a… open secret that you guys don't really get any support from your head of houses."

"Well- she's not, you know, bad it's just-"

"No need to make excuses for McGonagall. Again, open secret." He shrugged and I pursed my lips at the sharp edge in his eyes while he studied me, taking a sip from his tea before nodding to himself. "You'll do just fine."

"Hm?" Cedric smiled like he knew a secret, but offered no explanation besides a shake of the head.

To be honest, I don't have much memory of Book-Cedric. He had never been a big character to me besides that time where he offered a rematch and when it was clear that Harry had a crush on him, but otherwise, he just seemed like a chill dude. 

He was decent, for one. And for poor Harry, that wasn't the norm. But I remember reading and just being- unimpressed? 

Not with him! Just that Cedric simply was… a normal… decent kid. 

But I don't remember him ever being this pragmatic or distant. 

Yeah he listened to me and he comforted me (great hugs by the way), but it still felt like he was keeping me at arm's length. 

Either way, it didn't matter. I doubt I'd cross paths with him like this again. 

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah. Thank you for- you know."

"Forget it, McKinnon."

"You're the first boy I ever cried over, I think you've earned calling me Star."

Cedric chortled at that, snorting in his tea and making me giggle when he spilled it over the table, coughing as I finished my food. I watched amusedly as the elves fussed over him, cleaning the table with a snap of fingers and offering beverages. 

Soon, after a long calculating look at me, Cedric said his goodbyes. 

Looking around, I took notice of how they all worked; most were already making the dinner, others were working on cleaning the tables and cutlery, some were popping out to do whatever around the castle. 

Finishing up my food, I took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face. Time to get started. 

★★★

Let it not be said that Lilium Marlene McKinnon was just a swot that spent all her time studying for the sake of school.  

Raising my eyes from my Silly Charms book, I waited for Harry to speak his mind about all the groaning he had been doing when he finally plopped down by my side. 

“We’re having flying lessons with the Slytherins."  Oh. Right. 

That.  

I… completely forgot we would get to ride brooms. 

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with the Slytherins at Potions.” I cocked a brow at him when he groaned again while Ron dropped on my other side, peering curiously at what was in my hands before making a face and leaning over to look at Harry.

“They weren’t that bad, but they aren’t the problem.” Laughing at his grumble, I finally closed my book to give him my full attention. “It’s Malfoy.  I don’t want to make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of him!”

“Is this about all the flying talk he makes?” It was true, the blonde ponce couldn’t shut up about it. He wasn’t the only one, of course, but God was he one of the most annoying ones. I liked quidditch as much as the next gal, but these weirdos lived for it and don’t even get me started on Oliver Wood. 

I made the mistake of sitting next to him once, and I had to sit through breakdowns of moves and techniques from the Curupiras, because Ron (the blabbermouth) told the twins my favorite team, and the two cretins spoke about it in Wood’s vicinity and I had to be the one to listen about how it was a good team cheer for, just not the best. I did not ask which was the best, didn’t even get a chance to when he started talking about the Gryffindor team and his woes of losing to Slytherin over and over again.

Seriously, these people are nuts.

Malfoy was almost at the same league as Wood, talking to anyone who would (and wouldn’t) hear about his amazing flying skills, and oh just how unfair it was that they wouldn’t let him bring his broom! He whined so. Damn. much. 

Constantly. 

About everything.

He was one of the characters I expected a big difference from how he actually was to how Harry viewed him; the biggest difference was that while Harry viewed the boy as the embodiment of evil, the brat was just spoiled, insecure, and whiny. 

There’s a joke there about not getting enough attention from his parents, but I was saving that for a rainy day. 

It was clear that Harry projected his hatred for Dudley, one of his abusers (even if he too was a child, he still had a part in it), onto Malfoy, who was also blonde, spoiled, whiny, and antagonistic. To my friend’s defense, the kid really could be annoying.

Not to me, surprisingly.

Even though I was clearly Harry and Ron’s friend, the boy had yet to taunt me or say anything. Not even about my height, something he could’ve easily made a jab at. I’m not saying it would have any effect besides a flat look, but it was there. Just like the information of mum being a squib, I had no shame in telling that to others when asked and I didn't fucking care how uncomfortable it made them.

“I bet that’s all talk, mate,” Ron reassured him, and I decided not to call him out on also talking smack. Bumped into a hang-glider my arse.

“Yeah, besides, how hard can it be? You just sit on a broom and let it do the work.”  

“I wouldn’t say it’s just sitting on a broom-” Ron cleared his throat when I glared pointedly at him, looking up to avoid my glower before I slowly turned back to Harry, who still looked too miserable for his own good.

“Cheer up, Harry. If you’re bad I'll try and be worse than you so he’ll focus on me. Maybe I'll even start a fistfight." Both boys slowly looked back at me in silence as I opened my book again, smiling down at the pages. 

"You'd do that?"

"Sure. I'll pop Malfoy in the mouth for ya if you need me to." I chirped, glancing at him quickly and seeing his eyes narrowed as if trying to figure out if I was being honest or not. I didn't give him a chance to further interrogate me once I spotted the twins, jumping from my seat to skip their way with an innocent smile gracing my lips. 

"Boys!" The twins turned to look at me in sync, smiling down at me when I finally caught up to them. "How are my favorite twins on this lovely day?"

"Favorite twins, ey? We're the only twins you know." Twin 1 snorted, one brow raising as his brother laughed at me rolling my eyes.

"Not true, Parvati introduced me to her twin the other day- anyways,  I actually need some help from my useful and kind upperclassmen." The twins chortled, shoving each other once I started to lay the pleading on thick.  

"We'll help you-"

"Oh, thank you-"

"-If!"

"Ah."

They exchanged amused looks before looking down at me with equally mischievous smiles.

"If you get us right." 

There was a moment of silence as I stared at their identical faces. I could see some differences, twin 2 had a little scar above his right brow, and twin 1 had more freckles on the bridge of his nose instead of on the tip of it, but I still didn't know the difference between their names, and it had only been a week.  

"Your own mother can't tell you apart and you expect me to do it with only a week of you pestering me under my belt?" Twin 1 laughed harder while twin 2's smile stretched even further. "Besides, even if I was to get it right, you could lie to me and I would be none the wiser!"

"Do you have that little trust in us?" Twin 2 leaned closer, eyes shining with mirth as I scoffed. Please, these bitches were born on April fools for a reason. "Must not need our help that much if you won't even try, then."

Menaces. 

"I take it back, you two are the worst. Just you two wait." They laughed as I grumbled back to my seat, waving away their calls annoyedly. 

Gotta add those two as test subjects, now.

For the next five days, I got to watch with immense amusement as the first-year Gryffindors turned into nerve wrecks and watched my test fail. Even Ron, who already knew how to fly but was picking up on everyone's mood. 

"You haven't flown before, how are you not nervous?" Swallowing my tea, I shrugged at Harry's question and side-eyed Hermione, who was giving everyone an unwanted lecture about the safety protocols on brooms and how to check if they were at work.

"If I'm good, I'm good, if not…" I shrugged again, reaching for across the table and grunting annoyedly at the coffee escapee. There were a few options to drink in the morning, tea, milk, juice, water, and coffee. But unfortunately, that last option wasn't available for first and second years, nor were the teas with caffeine in it. Whenever one of us reached for it, they'd swiftly slide away from our grasp. Even when I asked a fourth year to pour me some, once I touched the mug, the coffee had turned into disgusting pumpkin juice. "Besides, seeing everyone nervous means that I'm not the only one without experience." 

"I guess you're right…" 

"I thought you had already learned that I'm always right." Ron rolled his eyes while Harry glared at me halfheartedly, making me smirk smugly even as he huffed. So cute. 

It was only the arrival of the morning post that finally cut Hermione's recital of Quidditch through the Ages short. The muttering was what took my attention away from my hearty breakfast, following people's eyes to the two owls carrying a big package into our table. 

I tapped Harry's shoulder when it seemed to be coming our way, and the boy blinked in surprise at their approach. 

There were a few yelps and I might've ' eep-ed ' when they dropped it over our heads, it was Percy who stopped the box from falling over Harry and me, and I might've blushed a little when the redhead raised a brow at me after looking down, still holding the big thing over our heads. 

Damn. 

Ahem.

Yeah, anyways. Uh. Package. Right.

I coughed and tried to pretend I didn't see Percy's tiny amused smile nor the little twinkle in his blue eyes when he carefully placed the box in the middle of the table for us before sitting back down and carrying on with his eating. 

The students around us were awe-ing at the box when Harry gently took the card. 

"Uh, it's for you, Star." I blinked at it in confusion before Harry handed me the card, Neville had yet to open his own package, waiting to see what I had gotten before opening his own. 

Happy Birthday, my little Star. 

I hope you enjoy this gift and make much use of it to bring some joy around you.

- Love, Mum.

 

A smile broke out on my face as I read the note, tossing it in my bag before I finally tore the wrapping paper off, squirming eagerly on my spot when I finally lifted the lid. 

My breath was sucked away from my chest at the sight of the most beautiful pink guitar after opening its case.

There were some excited noises and I'm sure I made about half of them as the Gryffindors curiously watched me lift the instrument from the box.

"Wuts that?" 

"Do you play, Star?" I gently brushed my fingers on the curves of my present, smiling down at Harry and nodding my head before I looked at Ron peering curiously at the acoustic guitar. 

“It’s a guitar. I’ve been using my neighbor’s old one for years.  He’s the one that taught me.” Plucking a few cords, I ignored the few awed noises from the non-muggle raised. 

“Are you allowed to have that?” 

Ignoring Hermione, I gently set the guitar back in the case, clearing away some of the paper while the excitement died down a little. 

“I’ll play for you guys one of these days.” Harry smiled at that, nodding and helping me clear away the rest of the papers while Neville finally opened his own package. 

“It’s a Remembrall! Gran knows I forget things- this tells you if there’s something you’ve forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this, and if it turns red- oh…” I bit back a giggle when the Remembrall glowed red, his face falling before scrunching it thoughtfully. “...you’ve forgotten something…” 

I followed Draco’s form as he passed the Gryffindor table and snatched the Remembrall from Neville’s hand, not paying mind to Harry and Ron jumping to their feet to start a fight as I spoke with the boy for the first time. 

“You know, if you asked, Neville would have shown you. You don't have to take from others just because you can’t afford your own.” There was a beat of silence as the boy opened and closed his mouth, flushing an angry red as those steel grey eyes widened down at me. 

“I can-”

“What’s going on?” The boys jumped at Professor McGonagall’s sharp voice, and I raised a brow at the blonde boy. 

“Malfoy was looking at Neville’s Remembrall, Professor. He was just about to give it back, wasn’t he?” The boy glared at me, a scowl on his face before he dropped the glass ball back at the table, turning around and being followed by his lackeys as I rolled my eyes. “So dramatic.” 

The boys slowly sat back down, still blinking in confusion at what had happened while I all but ignored McGonagall’s sharp gaze, sipping my tea and smiling at Neville when the boy whispered a quiet ‘thank you'. 

“Three points to Gryffindor for de-escalating a fight, Miss McKinnon.” I nearly choked at that, finally lifting my eyes to her, but the Professor was already moving to the high table. I scowled at Snape when he glared at me, nearly snickering at the angry flashing of his eyes before I moved my eyes to Professor Flitwick. He had an amused smile on his face and I swore he smiled cheekily at me before I briefly made eye contact with Dumbledore. 

He made me nervous. 

Honestly, the old man seemed sweet and frail, but even when he wasn’t flexing, I could feel his raw power pressing against the back of my neck and clogging up my chest. Urgh. 

“What did I forget?” Looking Neville over, I wondered if any of the theories I’ve read about what he'd forgotten had been true, they hadn’t been canon approved, after all, as far as I could remember. No better time than now to test it. 

“Was it your robes?” The blonde boy jumped on his seat, looking around him as if searching for them before groaning quietly, cheeks red as I sent him a sympathetic smile when the Remembrall’s smoke turned white again. 

“I forgot them at my dorm.” 

“C’mon, I’ll walk with you. I have to put this away, anyway.” 

The classes were good that day, we had History of magic, which most used to sleep off to compensate for Astronomy the night before while I worked on charming my string. Harry was sleeping while Ron was lazily thumbing through my notes, and they had taken my evil smile as a response whenever they asked what I was doing. 

It was some stupid intricate work, the fucking prank. 

I mean, it was simple, but Snape is the man that survived through the Marauders and the Weasleys. The boys had yet to do a successful prank on him, the man had sharp senses. He checked his food, his mail, his classrooms, his seat. 

Which is why I needed the extra mile. Until then, with the unknown help of Parvati, I was able to charm a thread and lazily weave it into Twin 1 robes and watch with immense satisfaction as he continuously looked over his shoulder at the sound of a chick tweeting every time he tugged or justled on his sleeve (which he did a lot). 

It wasn’t everything I wanted to do with Snape, but I just needed to know the charmed thread worked. Plus, Twin 1 was seriously getting half-crazy about the sound, jumping around every time in search of the damn bird. I had a feeling that Twin 2 figured out I had something to do with it, because I could hardly hide my amusement at his reactions and he seemed to always be waiting for them whenever the sound echoed when I was around.

But I couldn’t just charm Snivellus' clothes and hope for the best, no, no. I had to time the trigger perfectly, I doubt he’d be able to undo the charm when he couldn’t find the fucking thread.

Hence, my studies and continuous modifications of the simple sound prank charm. 

Charms was more enjoyable if you don’t take into account me stressing over Ron and his wand. Not only was it halfway broken, but it was unicorn hair. The thing about wands choosing the wizard? Yeah, way worse for the ones with unicorn hair as their core. The wands won’t even consider swaying their allegiance. It was very much still firmly loyal to Charlie. 

It was not only upsetting, seeing my new friend so disheartened by his lack of progress, but also stressful. I never knew when I’d have to tackle my friend down if that thing blew up in his face.

“Very good, Miss McKinnon! One point for Gryffindor for perfect incantation!” Flitwick was hands down my favorite Professor. Not just because he seemed to vibe with me, but he was also just such a great fucking teacher! His classes had been enough to brighten my days.

I beamed at the Professor and turned to help an increasingly frustrated Ron. 

“Stop. Deep breath, Ron.” Said boy glared at me, but ended up huffing at my raised brows before doing as told. “It’s not your incantation or wand movement, mate. It’s the wand.” 

"What do you mean?" He hissed back, eyes narrowed into angry slits and I quietened my voice down, patting his arm and smiling at Harry when he too leaned over.

"It's unicorn hair, Ron. The core doesn't let the wand change loyalty." Our green-eyed friend bobbed his head while Ron scowled down at his wand. "It's still loyal to your brother."

"Mr. Olivander said something to me about the wand picking its wizard." 

"The wand doesn't want to work with you, it's not compatible with your magical core. That's why you're having a harder time, it is not because you're bad at magic." 

"Well, it'll have to bloody work with me." Exchanging looks with Harry, we both leaned away from his angry waving, and I kept an eye out for any dangerous sparks before turning back to take more notes about the nature of charms.

After lunch and one last class (transfiguration), we were finally making our merry way to our flying lessons. 

The Slytherins were already there, and while we waited for the teacher, I walked up to the nice Slytherin trio and struck conversation. As had been the norm, Theo kept quiet, but paid vapid attention and silently snickered whenever something funny was said, while Zabini and I bantered and Daphne pretended to be annoyed before giving up and pulling Harry into a conversation. She had taken to telling everything she learned about the Potter house when she realized that we had no education about the wizarding society, and Harry drank everything up greedily. Daphne promised to study about the Clan McKinnon (we weren't considered a House, no fucking clue what it meant, didn’t ask) and would be teaching everything I needed to know about it soon. 

Ron had twisted his lips and nearly made Harry reconsider learning about it until I put my foot down and had a talk with the ginger. 

Mainly, that while he knew everything about his family and the pureblood world and didn't care, we knew nothing , and would like to know more about it before dismissing it. 

Of course, we had to promise not to turn into ponces like Malfoy, but now he merely sighed and let us do our thing while sulking in the background. 

Besides, he would never admit it, but he seemed to enjoy Theo's quiet company. They didn't say anything, just watched silently side by side, and sometimes they'd play chess while we did our thing.

"As usual, you are so dramatic, McKinnon." I scoffed, throwing my hair over my shoulder and sticking my nose up in the air in a perfect imitation of Malfoy. 

"You're just a coward who won't admit that the Goblin Treaty is a bloody scam."

"Excuse me? "

"You're excused." There was a moment of silence on the whole ground where the Gryffindors were holding back their laughter and the other Slytherins didn't seem to know if they should jump in to defend their house-mate or keep quiet and let it happen (it had happened before when our bickering had gotten loud and he called me a harpy looking wench and I said his hairline would disappear before his beard came in). Luckily it had been Professor Sprout who found us laughing while a few Slytherins started a shouting match with Harry, Parvati, and Lavender when one of them made a comment about me. 

Almost a week later and I still don't know what was said, only that Blaise and I had to be holding each other up while chaos ensued around us. Who would've thunk that Ron would be the smart one and not even look over his shoulder when it happened. The boy was starting to see a pattern of me starting shit without meaning to (most of the time), and that Harry, the stupid hothead, would come bulldozing to back me up. 

Either way, Professor Sprout seemed too amused and elated by our friendship to actually take any points, and the Slytherins seemed to pick up that we just talked like that. 

It was great exchanging barbs with Blaise and then just turning around and talking about an assignment like he hadn't just cursed my whole ancestry dumb by allowing me to come into existence. 

He was a doll. 

"Wench." I laughed at his hiss, patting his arm and beaming at him before moving back to our side, waving at Theo and winking at Daphne when the boys joined me at the Professor's approach.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." 

I moved closer to Neville, Harry on my other side as I looked down at the old broom, excited at the prospect of flying.

Honestly, I had never been an adrenaline junkie, but heights had been my thing. Perhaps because my father from Before hated it, and going high up was a great way to either avoid him or have him show any kind of concern for me. Now I understood that he wasn't really concerned, he was just squeamish with it in any way, shape, or form, and having me near edges in high places just triggered his own fear. 

Or perhaps, liking heights and mocking him for getting weak at the knees was just a subtle and only way to lash out at him. At least those were my therapist's words. Not that it mattered anymore. 

Right. Flying.

Sticking my hand up, I looked at Madam Hooch, waiting for the go-ahead before I snapped a strong "Up!", smirking when the broom slapped into my palm. 

Harry shared a beaming smile with me before I continued to pay half attention to the lesson and half to Neville, who was palling the more Madam Hooch explained how we should mount the brooms, ignoring the boys' delight at Malfoy's flaming red cheeks at being corrected about his wrong grip on the broom. 

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard." I stopped pretending to listen to the Professor, getting ready and paying close attention to Neville. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle, three, two-"

My hand snapped to the side to catch Neville's broom, and I yelped at the pain in my hand at the slides of the bristles on the soft skin before I was able to properly grip his broom, jumping with mine and ignoring the shouts from below as I clamped my knees shut to not slide off, holding his broom back from going faster while following his ascent. 

I pressed one of my palms on his back, not letting him slide off before I was finally able to get higher than him, and yanked the bristles, ignoring the pain as I finally got Neville horizontally again.

Neville was pale, yelping, eyes filling with tears and I could see his tense hands ready to pull the broom up again once I rounded to his side. 

"No! Neville! Hey! Calm down, you're ok! You're ok!" The boy turned his blue scared eyes at me and I gave him a shaky smile, gliding closer to him and clamping my bleeding hand above his so he wouldn't rise more. "I'm going to take us down, ok? You need to bend forward slightly."

"I- I- ca-can't ." Not giving him much choice, I gently pressed his hands down, pushing the broom while I did the same with mine, chancing a look at the grass to see Madam Hooch waiting looking thunderous. Honestly. These people are so fucking incompetent . 

Most Slytherins were trying not to howl with laughter, but a few outside of the worried snake trio were also nervously waiting for us to reach the ground. 

Perhaps it was Neville's pale face and my bleeding hands that softened the Professor, because she quickly helped Neville off his broom, supporting his weight while I allowed a worried Ron to hold my wrist and pick my broom once I stepped away from it. 

Madam Hooch then approached me, letting Harry keep Neville up with Parvati while most people circled me worriedly, hissing in sympathy at my bleeding palms and mumbling under their breaths. 

"Let me see." I controlled my scowl and did as told, looking over at Harry with raised brows and he nodded his head, letting me know Neville was ok for the moment. "They'll need to be wrapped up." Her voice was quiet, and she was almost as white as Neville before she cleared her throat. "Five points to Gryffindor for safely returning a colleague to the ground."

There were a few angry grumbles from the Slytherins, which went mostly ignored as the Gryffindors were buzzing around me like worried bees. 

"None of you is to move while I take them to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say "Quidditch". Come on, dear." 

Ah, fuck. 

I looked at the ground, searching for the fucking Remembrall and sighing in relief at the memory that Neville had left it in his dorms in turn of grabbing his robes. 

Lucky! No Remembrall, no Harry getting into the Quidditch team, no getting into the Quidditch team, no assassination attempt, no overhearing Snape and Quirrell, no almost dying to save the stone, and no Voldemort finding out about Lily Potter's love shield or whatever it was called. 

I moved closer to Neville, pressing my cheek on the top of his head while we walked when I noticed how he was still shaking and silently crying. 

"You're ok, Nev." He hiccuped, shaking his head while Madam Hooch tutted gently, squeezing his shoulder while I pushed my cheek more forcefully into his blonde hair, keeping my hands down to avoid getting blood up to my sleeves, not particularly caring about it getting on the stone floor. There was a slight tug on my heart at every drip, and I had a slight feeling that something about that was Hogwarts' magic, it didn't feel bad, and I doubt I would've noticed had I not spent a life without magic. 

Neville didn't say anything else, and I let him be once we finally reached the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey was terrifying . The woman shot a heated glare at Hooch when she caught sight of us, and the flying professor jutted her chin stubbornly before she pushed me forward first. 

"Miss McKinnon had bristles tearing and Mr. Longbottom went through quite a scare. 

"Are you not able to go a year without bringing me some poor hurt first-year!?" I bit back a laugh at her shriek and allowed the medi-witch to pull me gently but firmly into a bed by the forearm. "Set the boy over there, I'll be giving him a calming draught soon. Don't you have other first-years to look after? Or did you leave them unsupervised? Again ?" 

Hooch narrowed her yellow gaze angrily at the medi-witch before huffing and turning on her heels, stomping back to the training grounds. I finally snickered when the door shut quietly behind her, despite her best attempts at slamming it in her wake. 

"Now, dear, let me take a proper look." 

"Actually- can you give Neville his potion first? It'll be quicker, right? I can wait." She paused, looking up at me, eyes widened slightly before she quickly lowered them again, blinking rapidly and turning around to a sad-looking Neville.

"I- I- I'm rea-a-lly sor-r-rry, St-Star." His lip wobbled again and I smiled gently, shaking my head and trying to keep my hands from staining my clothes while Madam Pomfrey went through her cabinet.

"Don't worry, Nev. You're my friend, friends protect each other, right?" We both jumped when the witch dropped a potion, looking at me in horror as if she was seeing a ghost. Honestly, that was the norm sometimes. Most of the time. It was kinda funny, actually. I never knew I looked that much like my aunt, but a few of these reactions were too unique to be anything but. "Madam Pomfrey? Are you ok?"

The woman blinked again, shaking her head as if to rid herself of her thoughts before waving her wand and cleaning the mess she made, reaching for another vial and handing it to Neville. 

"Down the latch it goes, lad. You can take a nap and I'll wake you up in time for dinner." Neville gave her a wobbly smile before following the instructions, and I watched with curiosity as he sagged on the bed, completely relaxed and laying down lazily. "Now, time to take care of those. Would you like to tell me what happened?"

I shrugged, letting her open my palm with a minimal wince and trying not to blanche at the sight of the tears from the sharp and rough bristles. 

"I saw him jump too hard and tried to hold down his broom, could only catch the end of it, then I went up and brought him back down." She hummed quietly, waving her hand and summoning what she needed to clean the tearing. 

She worked in silence, gently but with precision, cleaning and wiping away the pieces of skin torn away from my hands so she could check for any bristle or dirt in my cuts. 

"I apologize for my reaction, when you said what you did to Mr. Longbottom- I was reminded of a pair of students from a few years ago," I smirked, noticing she only sent me a glance before pointedly looking back at what she was doing, a tad paler than before.

"It's ok, you haven't been the first one. I have to wonder what kind of chaos this student caused, though. It seems most Professors are waiting for me to follow right up where it was left." She laughed quietly, a tad warmer than she had been before while she reached for an essence in one of the drawers near my bed.

I sighed in relief once the burning and pain disappeared, only a soothing cold on my fingers and palm before she started quietly shooting spells at my essence-lathered hands. The skin seemed to grow back in or glue itself together, it was more pink-ish than my natural skin and it looked thinner and shinier from what I could tell before she started to wrap my hands. 

It was amazing watching the soaked bandages fly by themselves, the big ones went around my palms while the thinner ones enveloped each finger, letting me keep my mobility.

"Yes. He was a piece of work." My head snapped up in confusion, but the witch had already turned around and was talking before I could ask who she was talking about, that wasn't my aunt. "You can take them off Saturday. Don't worry about getting them wet or dirty, they're spelled not to. They'll unravel Saturday and Saturday only, Miss McKinnon. Now, you can either return to your flying lesson or wait with Mr. Longbottom if you don't make a ruckus."

I snapped my mouth shut, settling better on my bed and making it clear that I wouldn't leave Neville to wake up alone. 

With that, she hurried away without giving me a chance to ask who she was talking about. I took the time to practice my grip on my wand with the bandages and to think of the music I could play once my fingers were completely healed. 

If there was something I missed from my time, it was the bloody music. Urgh, what I wouldn't do to have Spotify again. It sucked that I couldn't even be sure it would get invented! God knows what's different between this world and my last one. I, for one, was not keen to wait 30 years to listen to my favorite music. 

I was making pink butterflies fly above Neville when the door opened quietly, twisting to see who was there. I beamed at my Slytherin friends and Ron once they finally entered and spotted me.

"Hey, guys! Aww, did you come to check on me?" I batted my lashes as Blaise rolled his eyes, pushing me to jump on the bed by my side as Ron frowned down at my wrapped hands. "It wasn't that bad, they'll unravel Saturday and I think it's just so it doesn't scar." Looking around, I frowned at the lack of Harry, shooting a glance at a worried-looking Ron, who exchanged glances with Daphne. 

The silent conversation happened right in front of me, and the only thing that distracted me was Theo's gentle hand on my wrist. My head snapped at him in surprise, the boy had never approached me before, always keeping a safe distance and I respected that, not pushing when I knew he got uncomfortable with questions directed at him. 

He had a tiny worried frown, eyes big as he gently rotated my hand to see the bandages, tugging on them a little and nodding once he realized they didn't loosen. Then, he reached into his bag and gave me a fucking sugar quill and a smile.

I- I can't. 

Blaise howled a peal of laughter when I sniffled and pulled Theo into my arms, squeezing him tightly while he awkwardly patted my back, making me rub my cheek on his shoulder as he huffed a quiet laugh, finally hugging me back. 

He was so fucking sweet. He cared. Theo cared!

Pulling back, I accepted the extended sugar quill and pulled him to also sit on the bed, helping him clamber up and settle behind Blaise while Daphne groaned and sighed dramatically, snapping at Ron and turning to glare at me.

“Fine! After you got sent here for pulling that stupid Gryffindor move-”

“-Hey! ”

“-Malfoy started talking about Longbottom and how stupid it was for the Head of the McKinnon Clan-”

“-still don’t know what it means, by the way-” She glared even more, carrying on as if I hadn’t interrupted her again while Blaise wheezed a laughter by my side and Ron pocked at the butterflies still fluttering around.

“-to risk herself for- For- I’m not going to say it, unlike him, I have class!” We had to quieten our laugh when Madam Pomfrey peeked her head out of her office to narrow her eyes at us, a silent warning that had me bending over and shaking with laughter while Ron had his mouth covered with his hand. “And as you know Potter-”

“-Uh oh, so he’s Potter, now, huh?”

“-just had to go and make things worse!” She huffed, arms crossed and a deep scowl on her face before Ron finally approached, looking nervous and laughter all forgotten while Blaise rolled his eyes. 

“Calm down, you two. You really think McGonagall is going to expel the Boy-Who-Lived because he flew like he was born on a broom?” My head snapped at him, the breath stolen from my chest and a pressure building on my head, my lips frozen in an unfeeling smile and my brows raised waiting for an explanation. “Malfoy found your ring.”

I rubbed my thumb on my pinky and my eye twitched at the lack of metal, I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed. Blaise snorted at my frown, a delighted smirk on his lips while Daphne snickered and Theo’s shoulders shook with his silent laughter. 

“What?”

“I don't think he was going to say he found it, but the ring burned him.” A smirk of my own stretched on my face while Ron snickered. 

“It was brilliant! He almost cried!” 

“Yes, yes, but the best part? So, he’s playing hot potato with your ring, screaming like a banshee, Harry sees your ring, right? And he’s all like, ‘oi! Give it back! It’s not yours!’, that way only you Gryffs can do,” I smothered my laugh while Ron wheezed at Daphne’s impression of Harry. “Then the stupid boy goes up in the air! And of course, your own personal hero follows him, and we get to see Harry’s ability to spot your ring flying Merlin-knows-where.” 

I don’t like it.

In fact, I hate it. 

Why, oh, why didn’t leaving the Remembrall away change things? Fuck. FUCK!

“I don’t know what was the best part, when he caught it, or when it didn’t burn him.” Ron smiled and I couldn’t help but mirror it. “Malfoy looked ready to throw a fit.

“I have no clue what defenses are on that thing, might ask mum.” 

I rubbed my pinky again, used to having the ring as a comfort, still peeved with myself that I hadn’t noticed the absence of it. 

“Yeah, that was great but now Harry’s in trouble.” I snorted at Daphne’s worried voice, waving away her glare and handing my sugar quill to Blaise so he could unwrap it for me. The boy rolled his eyes, but did so and I shared a smile with Ron at these worried snakes. 

It had been something the three of us had talked about before, how the Slytherins worked differently than us. We Gryffs were 'all in' or nothing at all since day one, but the trio still had their reservations and if it wasn’t for me pointing out what they did to show that they wanted to be our friends, but were just showing in their weird sly ways, I think the boys would’ve dropped them. 

But honestly? The trio did us good. 

One a week of friendship, and I shit you not, Harry was already showing his sly ways that hid under the suffice, and they were great with egging on our ambitions. 

And they were protective, apparently. Who would’ve thunk?

“Don’t worry, Daph.” I ignored the rush of red on her face and the way her eyes shone a little, smiling smugly at Blaise when he handed me the candy back. “He’s probably getting recruited to the Quidditch team. Morgana knows Wood has been crying a bloody river about his losses to anyone who would listen.” 

“Do ya’ reckon?” Nodding at Ron, I kicked my legs out, smiling at my still scowling Slytherin friend when a butterfly landed on Neville’s nose. 

The boy woke up with a sneeze, looking at the five people watching him lazily sit down before eloquently speaking.

“Wut’ happened?”

Chapter Text

Ron looked at me exasperated. 

“Do you have to spoil everything?” I coughed, trying not to choke on the piece of pie I had been eating and slamming a fist on my chest when Ron looked up as if asking for strength while Harry looked at us confused. “She said exactly that when I went to visit her!” 

Drinking the cup Percy wordlessly pushed my direction, I grimaced at the table after downing the disgusting pumpkin juice. Nodding at the Prefect as I tried not to burst out laughing.

“Think I can take the Divination Professor’s job?” 

“Might as bloody well!” My snort at Ron stabbing his potatoes made Harry snicker around his food, and I smiled at the twins when they hurried over after they spotted the new addition to the team. 

“Well done!” Twin 1 spoke in a low voice. “Wood told us, we’re on the team too - Beaters.” 

“I tell you, we’re going to win that Quidditch Cup for sure this year,” I eyed Twin 2 suspiciously, noticing how close he was to my food and how his hand was wandering.” We hadn’t won since before Charlie left, but this year’s team is going to be brilliant-”

“Shite!” My hiss caught Harry’s worried attention as I cradled my hand to my chest after I slapped Twin 2’s away from stealing my food. Biting my lip and trying to hold back a whimper as I curled in on myself, resting my forehead on the table and regretting my decision to exist.

Fuck. 

So, whatever fuck essence Madam Pomfrey lathered my hands with had worn off. 

Urgh.

“What happened to your hands!?” Twin 2 yelped, bending closer to me with a worried look on his face as I tried to regain my breath. Jesus. I allowed him to gently pull me back and away from the table, whining silently when Twin 1 rounded to flank my other side, looking equally worried. 

“The Gods have forsaken me, I have been cursed to a hundred years of pain! I’ll never be able to wield my wand again!”

“What?!” Flopping back, I looked up at the twins' horrified faces, both of them with their hands on my back and supporting me.

“Those are coming out Saturday, don’t be a baby, you attention-seeking cretin.” The boys’ eyes flashed dangerously at the snake approaching, straightening up to glare down at Blaise when he stopped by Ron’s side, across from me. 

“I am in pain, Zabini. My hands were disfigured! I am not a baby!” The Slytherin rolled his eyes, and I hid a joyous smile when Ron and Neville slid to the side wordlessly to make space for him. 

“You got bristle tearing, stop whining, hag.” The twins bristled behind me when I gasped, staring him down until I couldn’t hold my laugh back anymore, weakly patting Twin 2’s hand on my shoulder. “You see this, Potter? I put myself in danger coming here and she laughs!”

Harry chortled before shaking his head, cocking it to the side adorably and I nearly melted when Twin 1 absently rubbed my back, seemingly too absorbed in the weird sight of a baby snake on our table and joking around to realize what he was doing. 

“Why did you come here?” The Slytherin twisted his nose at the table, pushing away a cup with two fingers like the fucking snob he was before locking his eyes on Harry again. 

“Daphne is too scared to come and Theo is Theo, he can’t ask, but they’re both worrying back there and Malfoy is gloating.” There was a moment of silence and I pushed back against Twin’s 1 hand when he stopped the motion, making him huff a quiet laugh and continue his rubbing while Twin 2 was gaping at the Slytherin. 

“So… you came because… they’re worried about me?” Harry’s face was bright, a blinding smile that made Blaise grunt and if his skin wasn’t dark I knew he’d be blushing. “I’m not in any trouble, they- they don’t have to worry.” 

A smile was still in place on Harry’s face, and I wondered what he was thinking, was it about how many friends he had? That someone was actually worried for him? 

“Yeah, he’s the new-” I made a loud shushing noise at Ron, who jumped and looked at me with wide eyes. “Wut? He’s our friend!”

“I am?”

“Yes, and he’s a Slytherin!” Blaise smirked at me when I narrowed my eyes at him, pointing my wrapped finger in his direction and hissing. “He’ll tell the rest of them.”

“No he won’t!” 

“If it’ll give us an advantage, then yes I will.” I snickered at Harry’s betrayed face, making me bump my shoulder with his. “I’d be insulted if you thought I wouldn’t. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

“Urgh, Slytherins.” Blaise snorted, patting Ron’s shoulder before smoothly raising to his feet again. 

“I should go before Star’s guard dogs attack me.” The twins, surprisingly, didn't laugh nor make any protesting sound, simply shifting to watch the boy say his goodbyes and leave before leaning over my shoulders to look at me and Ron.  

“Since when is our firstie and Ronniekins-”

“-running around with baby-”

“-snakes?” Ron flushed at their awed voices, but shrugged as I laughed. 

“Unlike you two, Ron is actually likeable.” Finally they gasped as if offended, leaning back and I nearly whined at the loss of back rubs from who I was beginning to believe to be George. 

For now, he’d still be Twin 1 until I was sure. 

“The lies!”

“The slander!” I controlled the urge to swat Twin 2’s (Fred, I’m pretty sure) hand away from messing my hair, knowing that it would only cause me pain. 

“Don’t you two have some mischief to get into?” Ducking away, I glared at them when they snickered at my face, shrugging and sending me matching grins. 

“As matter of fact, Stardust-”

“Star.” 

“-we do! Lee Jordan reckons he’s found a new secret passageway out of the school.” 

“Bet it’s that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy we found in our first week. See you.” 

“Scoundrels.” Percy snorted at my grumble but made no move to stop the two from doing whatever the hell they were going to. Seriously, he would’ve been better at Slytherin with his ‘I really don’t care as long as you don’t look like you’re about to get caught’ thing. That’s the biggest bullshit of this universe, that the ambitious Percy didn’t end up in Slytherin. Honestly. 

Percy had just left the table when Malfoy strolled closer, and I frowned trying to remember if that had happened in the book. 

I was embarrassed to admit it, but I have very little memory of what happened in the books. Even after the bastardized Occlumency, the memories could only be tucked away so much. I had the theory that I didn't remember everything because I had read it through muggle eyes (and to he fair I read all the books in 4 days, with no pause besides basic necessities, so it's not like I was letting the information stew), and therefore, I didn't have the same crazy good way of recalling information as I had now. 

I remember the big things or the ones that I found funny or memorable. For instance: Order of Phoenix? I don't remember shit besides Umbridge equals bad, McGonagall tries killing the bitch by helping Peeves, 'I heard you called Professor Umbridge a liar, Potter. Have a cookie.', Sirius dies, Harry is always angry, the D.A, Cho and Harry? Question mark? Kreacher lies, somehow they end up in the Ministry of Magic? Voldemort shows himself, and equally hurting stuff.

I remember even less of HBP, only that Harry stalks Draco, vanishing Cabinet, Bill gets mauled and Fleur puts her huge cock on the table and tells Molly to measure it, Remus and Tonks become a thing, apparently. A whole lot of Gaunt and Riddle history (all of which I remember because I was fascinated by the idea of backstory), Dumbledore dies, Harry breaks up with Ginny. 

That's all. I mean I'm sure if I meditate and do some real Occlumency I'd remember more, but besides the big events, my memory of the books was a bit lacking.

You can't expect me to remember everything. So the first two years? Not a lot to remember. To my 13 year old brain going through the books in 4 days because she woke up one winter morning bored, the first two were just so silly. If not silly, just frustrating because I remember being so disheartened by how much I didn't like most of the characters. But for all that I gobbled them up in one day, the first and second book didn’t really leave any marks, they were short and I went through them quickly wanting to get to the interesting parts, to the real plot. 

Which was why I was fucking puzzled by the fellow blonde's approach. 

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the muggles?" 

I blinked at Malfoy, who seemed intent on pointedly ignoring me. So he came to gloat? Well, this is stupid, no wonder it wasn't in the fucking books. 

"You're a lot braver now you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you." Harry's voice was cold, but his posture was tense, teeth clenched and I almost reached over to rub his back, but I had a feeling he'd shrug me off if only so Malfoy wouldn't have ammunition on him. 

Besides, we were in the Great Hall, under the amused eyes of the older students, I doubted anything would happen. 

"Did you want something, Malfoy? To return my ring, perhaps? Oh wait-" Ron snickered behind his hand when Malfoy finally snapped his head to face me, eyes flashing in anger and cheeks burning red when Harry also joined in the laugh. 

"You should be more careful with who you try to make enemies with, McKinnon." I smiled at him amusedly, this fucking midget I swear. The boy barely reached my shoulder, he was even slightly shorter than Harry, and he walked around like he was 7 feet tall, as if I couldn't feel his pathetic magic. Honestly. "Wouldn't want someone to finish the job and your Clan, would we?"

Harry and Ron raised to their feet in anger, and my amusement vanished at his words. 

"Are you threatening her!?" I shot my hand out at Harry, slowly pulling him to sit back down even as he tried to shrug me off and noticing with the corner of my eye that Neville did the same with Ron, seeing as I was staring at Draco's victorious face. 

"You're very sure for a small little nobody riding his daddy's ruined coat." I cocked my head to the side, ignoring his spluttering as I tried to reign in my anger. This little twat had the fucking gall to threaten me and rub in my face the massacre of my family, of my Clan. "I'll ask again, did you want something? Or is bothering people with your presence the only way you have of getting the attention you didn't receive from your parents?"

Ah, emotional damage.

His grey eyes widened even more and I was sure I saw a little hurt there, not that I fucking cared at the moment. Malfoy pressed his lips together and his face flushed even more, his breathing getting a little heavier and I sneered at him as if he was a bug I was too disgusted to kill. 

He seemed to understand the translation I was trying to mean with my expression, trying to do the same, flushing more the longer I stared at him.

"A duel, tonight. A Wizard's duel, wands only, no contact." Ah, I think I'm remembering something. "What's the matter? Your squib mother didn't teach you that either? Do you even know what that is?" 

"Hm, she was too busy loving me. Not that you'd know what that means." His eyes flashed again even as Ron spoke over me.

"Of course she does!" He wheeled around again, shaking off Neville's grip "I'll be her second, who's yours?" 

Ah yes, definitely remembering something. 

Malfoy sized up his friends before answering, returning to sneer at me when I smirked. 

"Crabbe. Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room, that's always unlocked."

"Hm." I watched him leave and snorted at Neville's nervous face while Ron explained to Harry what a Wizard duel was. "He's a git and a coward, he won't show up." I reassured my friend, patting his shoulder as he scowled down at his food, lips pinched and looking thunderous as I sighed. "What is it, Harry?"

"If I knew what he was talking about I could've been your second." 

Tilting my head at him, I watched the boy push his food around and rest his cheek on his palm, still with a scowl on his face as I exchanged looks with Ron.

“You know I won’t actually need a second, nor that you have to keep defending me like that, right? I know I'll keep pissing off people for the rest of my life.” His scowl deepened even more at my words before he flicked his angry eyes at me.

“Of course I do! You’re my friend and you’d do the same for me.” True, but still. 

“Harry-”

“Excuse me.” Ron groaned loudly at the haughty voice and I swallowed the urge to follow his lead. Hermione was… a difficult person to like, and I’ve been trying, if only for the sake of the boys because I knew she’d one day end up friends with them, if my theory was right, but it was hard. 

You’d think that having another muggle raised intelligent and applied girl around, she’d be drawn to me, to what we had in common, like what I expected to feel about her, but she was - and it fucking pained me to admit it -, a fucking snob. 

When I read the books, I distinctly remember being pissed at the boys for how they treated her, but seeing all the times she looked smug when she tried to explain something to Ron, ignoring how embarrassed it made him feel, or watching her scoff and turn her nose on me, Lavender and Parvati when discussing about clothes or our interests outside of reading or studying- it grated.

Deep down I knew she just wanted friends and was pushy because she didn’t know how to express herself, and I tried to work with it! Since day two I had been trying, but she hated that I was also doing good in class, and she didn’t like that I thoroughly enjoyed gossiping with the girls, or how I practiced my charms in our dorm, she constantly tried antagonizing me and pull me into discussions about things she didn’t believe and it just- I wasn’t my fucking job to make her likeable, alright?

And I could feel that soon enough I’d snap at her, but I was trying my damn best to not do so, to still keep offering olive branches, but the more she acted like she was better than everyone else for reading, the more she acted like a ‘I’m not like other girls’, the harder it became for me to try to understand her. 

I wasn’t about to dumb myself down just so she could keep the ‘swot’ mantle.

“Can’t a person eat in peace in this place?” Hermione ignored Ron, looking down her nose at me and I made an effort to try and change my tone, knowing that I was dangerously close to speaking to her like I had to Malfoy. 

“I couldn’t help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying-”

“Bet you could.” I quirked a smirk at Ron's mutter. 

“- and you musn’t go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you’ll lose Gryffindor if you’re caught, and you’re bound to be. It’s really very selfish of you.” 

Harry bristled by my side, but I knocked my knees with him to stop whatever he was about to say and I merely looked at her flatly, blinking at her until she narrowed her eyes angrily and huffed. 

“Typical.” I yawned as a response and that only seemed to make her angrier, but my clear dismissal of her by turning around and carrying on with my meal had her scoffing angrily to herself. “You’re so-” 

“Oh! Do you have my ring with you, Harry?” The boy frowned again, but nodded and stuck his hand inside his robes, making me hide a smile when I heard the crackling of papers from all the notes the three of us kept writing to each other during Transfiguration. “Thank you!”

I slid the ring back on my pinkie, sighing in relief at the feeling of it, flexing my fingers and feeling whatever protection there was on the ring washing over me. 

“Why did it burn Malfoy?” 

“Don’t know, I’ll send a letter to mum about it tomorrow. I’m really curious why it didn’t burn you too.” I quirked a brow at the boy when his eyes lingered on the ring, a wistful look on his face before he nodded and looked back at his food. 

I didn’t bother letting Ron give me tips on what to do in a duel, I merely cut him off with a quiet ‘we aren’t going’ outside of everyone else’s hearing ranges and just explained to him that, again, Malfoy was a coward and he was setting us up.

The boys didn’t seem too happy about it, but after extracting promises to not go, I slept peacefully knowing that Hermione was waiting in the dark in the common room for nothing. 

The next day I woke up with Granger still missing from her bed, a quick trip to the common room still in my pajamas showed me that she slept waiting to catch us, and with her still there, it was clear the boys kept their promises. 

A shake and a startle had the girl jumping from the chair, looking around half-crazy as I snorted. 

“You’ll be late.” I turned on my heels, ignoring her squeak and the way she shot in front of me, running up the stairs as I yawned and waved at Percy, who was just leaving his dorm, ready for the day. 

The boys were grouchy when I bid them good morning, only grunting in response as I rolled my eyes, pressing against Harry’s side with a smile, knowing that sooner or later the stubborn boy would relax. 

We were still learning a lot about each other, still tentative in our friendship even as we drew closer and closer every day, but there were a few things I already knew about them. 

Ron wasn’t very touchy- He could endure me pushing, touching and rubbing his arm, but he didn’t very much enjoy it. With how tactile the twins were, I suspected he simply linked the acts with his mischievous brothers, so I made an effort to not do it as much with him. But Harry? Harry very much enjoyed close contact, which was a good thing seeing as I did too. 

He had yet to be the one to start it, but I reckoned growing up without much affection he craved a little too much. A back rub or me circling his shoulders never failed to soften him to me whenever I was being too annoying or smug. 

But, while Ron didn’t mind (and I reckon he kind of liked) that I was fussy over him, Harry didn’t enjoy it. It made him uncomfortable, so I was trying to restrict myself about it and ease him into it. He was ok with me putting fruits and vegetables on his plate or fixing his hair or glasses, but everything else and he’d be squirming. While Ron would let me fuss over him with an amused smile. 

I was ok with the boys taking food from me, but they were both very protective of their plates. Ron got grumpy, but Harry would get extra hostile about it, as Ron had found out. 

Harry appreciated that I reminded him of homework more than once, but Ron would get snippy if I reminded him a second time or tried to convince him to do it with us. He still did it after we were done, he’d ask for help a little, but he didn’t ask to copy it from us, so I stopped trying to make him join us.

My green-eyed friend copied me about it. I liked to do my stuff in one sitting and as soon as we were free, while I was still on a roll, so I could spend the rest of the day free, but Ron preferred to relax after classes and then do his homework late at night.  

Little things we were learning from each other, like how they knew Harry had an easier time convincing me to do something than Ron, though they both could wear me down if they wanted, or how I liked it better when Ron explained things to me. I didn't like rough shoving, I was ok with the gentle and teasing ones, but how they did to each other, where they pushed hard, I hated it. They knew not to rip things from my hands or talk over me, but I had no problem if they interrupted me to speak their mind, just don't fucking talk over me like I'm not saying something. 

Ron would eat everything in his reach that wasn’t vegetables and Harry and I learned to cut him off sometimes or he’d make himself sick. Harry wasn’t a fussy eater, but as of late, he had stopped putting greenies on his plate because he knew I’d push some into it. 

Honestly, knowing each other was also to be said about the Slytherins and the rest of the first years in our house. 

The only one causing problems in our dorm as of late was Hermione (unsurprisingly). Lavender was a neat freak, and she asked us to not leave things in her space or touch her things, but Hermione continuously keeps taking Lavender's lotions and makeup from her desk and putting her books and assignments there, even though she had her own table, which would annoy and upset Lavender to no end, and only made it worse when Hermione wouldn't apologize, just roll her eyes and say that she was putting the table for good use, unlike Lavender. 

Parvati would then take offense for Lavender and whenever she caught Hermione's things on Lavender's desk, she'd leave them tossed on the ground, which would then issue an argument with Hermione because her things are on the floor and fuck- 

Which was not to say the girls were also completely free of making mistakes either, more than once they have taken to shoving their things into my space until I told them to knock it off or I wouldn't return the things, but I'd in fact set them on fire. 

I also made my mistakes, like Lavender I was a little of a neat freak too, and would sometimes move their things when they were on the ground, but they didn't like that I touched their stuff, even if they were on the fucking floor and just- 

We were learning. 

But after I had a talk with the girls, they mostly kept me out of the bickering and stopped invading my space and I promised to not touch their stuff as long as it wasn't in the middle of the room. 

So the only one still causing problems was Hermione when she tried taking over other people's space. 

There were three desks, Parvati and I were happy to share one once we realized the other two had problems with their stuff, and as I mostly used it to write letters seeing as I did most of my homework with the boys in one of the tables of the common room, we didn't argue much. And she was a sweetheart. When I once asked if I could use the table once she was done sewing, she moved to her bed and waved away my concerns. 

Again, a sweetheart.

Lavender was a little overbearing,  a lot like Hermione just on the complete other side of the coin, but she didn't turn her nose at me when I didn't want to gossip or do something she liked, she would push a little and if she noticed the answer would remain the same, she’d simply leave it at that and move to pester Parvati. 

I got along with Neville like- like- water and wine? Ah, really well. He was sweet, not really one to talk much if it wasn't about plants, and he always seemed happy to just stay silent by my side while I read, making me company, or listen to my rambles about charms. 

Dean was also a neat guy, really funny, and we'd have a laugh about my accent or whatever wizarding bullshit we discovered that week, we'd share our favorite movies and songs, and he was always down to play some muggle game others didn't know, while Seamus was- a person. 

I didn't really have anything to say about the boy. He didn't mess with me, tried the first week when he teased the girls and was just- you know, a boy, but my lack of reaction made me boring to him and we didn't have anything to talk about, so we just stayed out of each other's ways. 

The Slytherins were surprisingly more easy to get along with. 

Even the boys thought so. 

Blaise liked to bicker, so did I. He was studious, the three of them were, Theo more than the other two. 

Theo was silent and calm, he didn't rise to bait, no matter how much others tried, unlike Daphne, who was quick to snap and anger, though she cooled down like that. 

It was like we each had our assigned Slytherin. Blaise was mine, Daphne was Harry's and Theo was Ron's. Though I still chatted Daphne's ears out and made quiet company with Theo, and Blaise enjoyed teasing Harry or Daphne with Ron.

But Blaise was unapologetically my Slytherin. He was also a fucking gossip and I loved him for it, which was why I knew I could count on him to do what he did. 

The trio was waiting outside the Great Hall for us, Daphne looked fidgety and Theo kept looking around searchingly while Blaise was very much relaxed against the wall, only quirking a smile when he saw the boys' pissed off faces. 

Daphne and Theo relaxed as soon as they saw us, and the witch moved to press on Harry's other side while Theo was already handing me a sugar quill before giving Harry a chocolate frog and Ron a Sugar Mice. 

"Oooh! What did we do? Why the rewards?" Blaise snorted, pushing away from the wall as the boys happily accepted the gifts. 

"Malfoy talked the whole night about how he got you three in trouble. Something about a duel?" The boys stiffened and I smiled smugly at them, carefully putting my sugar quill away while Daphne huffed. "I told these two you were too smart to fall for such a terrible trap." 

"Well, we wouldn't know with them being bloody Gryffindors, would we?" I laughed when the boys grumbled under their breaths at Daphne's hiss, circling Theo's arm gently and walking with him to the Great Hall, smiling widely at Malfoy when he glared angrily at me for still being there. 

They wouldn't sit with us, so we kept a lazy pace until we had to separate. Ron still had a scowl in place when we sat down while Harry seemed a little ashamed of his previous mood.

"I told you two he was setting us up. Look at his face." 

"What a bloody coward. He knew you could take him!" He looked over his shoulder to glare at Malfoy before huffing and stuffing his face with the bacon as I snickered, putting myself some tea and twitching my nose at the Pumpkin Juice Harry loved. 

Blaise smirked at me from his spot on the Slytherin table and I hid my expression behind my mug, knowing he'd be sharing the latest gossip and whines once we got to Potions. 

"Those still hurting, Starfire?" Twin 2 plopped by my free side as Twin 1 sat beside Ron. 

"Only a little. I feel like Snape will take great pleasure in seeing me struggle today, the twat." Harry choked on his juice, slapping a hand over his mouth even as the mess was already made, the twins howling in laughter as I merely reached for a napkin for the flustered boy, shaking my sleeves free of the juice.

"So you're the one for your year, huh?" Fred, Twin 2, smirked and rested his elbow on the table, chin on his hand as I hummed into my mug. 

"Mhm, on my way to becoming Undesirable number 1. I think it was Harry at first but I just have a way of annoying people." 

"I'll say." Chucking a toast at Ron for his mutter, I blew raspberries at Harry when he laughed at our friend's words. 

"Git! Anyways, he's an arse and I hold a grudge." George raised his brows at that, exchanging looks with his twin by my side and leaning closer, a glint in his eyes when I shrugged.

"Oh? And what do you plan to do with that grudge?" Smiling gently, I reached over and pulled on his sleeves, snickering when he jumped and looked over his shoulder to find the source to the quiet tweet that chirped around him before slowly turning back to narrow his eyes at me, his brother curled in on himself, shoulders shaking with his rare quiet laugh. 

Fred took a big gulp of breath, wiping his eyes of the tears from mirth while I sipped on my tea again, making eye contact with George and watching him slowly tug on his sleeve, a slow manic smile tugging on his lips at the sound.

"You're… evil. I thought I was going mad." 

"I play the long game, thank you for being such a great test subject, now, why don't you try undoing the charm?" 

The twins looked gleeful, and both of them took out their wands. It was a fairly simple charm, I reckon the first you learn when you're getting into charms to annoy or prank others. And I watched with amusement as they repeated the counter charm again and again to no success, looking even more excited the longer they couldn't dispel it. 

Ron seemed to squirm uncomfortably on his spot, looking from my smile to the twins' excitement and putting together what I might get up to with my days. 

"How? " I quirked a smile, shrugging and trying to ignore the shiver that rolled up my spine at their elated expressions. 

"I'll tell you one day." Knocking on the table gently, I turned around to give my attention to my confused and forlorn friends, nodding at Neville when he joined us. 

"We should start placing bets on how many points I could lose to Gryffindor today."

"Shouldn't it be the other way around? Earning points?"

“But Harry, it'll be so much fun! He'll take it either way and I'd get to annoy him on purpose, at least."

"You shouldn't thrive to do it!" The three of us jumped at Hermione's shrill voice, she looked frazzled and poor Neville whined when he dropped his juice on his shirt. 

"Don't you have anything else better to do?" As usual, I ignored Hermione, but Ron couldn't help himself but mutter his piece, more than a little done with the condescending girl. 

Harry frowned at her, shoulders tense until I started to rub between them, mindful of my injured hands and smiling a little when he relaxed, nearly melting on his seat before following my example and ignoring Hermione. 

"I'm talking to you! "

"And for the sake of both of us, I'm ignoring you, Granger." A sip, I looked at the twins thoroughly examining Twin 1's robes, laying it on the table between them and muttering between themselves.

"Why? Because you're so much better than me!?" Oh, she mad. “You think that just because I’m a muggleborn you can beat me? That you’re better?!” 

I paused mid-sip;

I felt a clogging on my chest, a pressure building behind my eyes and a tightening on my shoulders. Harry, with how close to me he was, felt the change in my posture, and I briefly wondered if the ones around me could smell the ozone lingering in the air as I tried to reign in my emotions. 

I’m trying. I am trying. 

The twins stopped their movements, tensing and turning towards me warily as I blankly stared at the table, Ron was spluttering something, angry about Hermione’s assumptions and rightfully upset about it. 

Friends, I had to remind myself, take offense for you. 

She seemed to be ignoring Ron, still glaring at me as I gently put my mug down and tried to shove that nasty feeling- that urge to tear her a new one, down. Pushing it under the non-existent bed, trying to remind myself that she was a child, she’s alone, she had never been academically challenged, that she didn’t know how to deal with it and just didn’t know how to express herself. 

“Star?” 

Unclenching my hand, I tried not to wince at the throbbing where I was digging my fingers, snapping my eyes at him when Harry touched my elbow gently. 

I was trying. 

“You guys finish eating, I’ll be at Potions.” I stood up, not waiting for them to say anything and ignoring the victorious smug look on Granger’s face. 

My stomps were easily followed, and a quick glance over my shoulder let me see a ginger hastily trying to put on his robes and another quirking a brow at my huff and pace. Turning corners, I tried to push back the prickling of tears in my eyes and the angry red rising from my chest at having to keep quiet, because I knew that once I opened my mouth I’d cause some emotional damage. 

“Wait up, Lils.” I would’ve ignored them had they not easily pulled on my shoulders and pushed me in an alcove, blocking my way out as I breathed heavily, mouth pinched and hugging my books against my chest. “Does she do that a lot?” 

“I don’t care.”

“You clearly do.” Glaring at Twin 2, I quickly averted my gaze again when I was met with their serious faces, not a hint of mock or the amusement and mischief that always pulled on their lips and glinted their eyes. 

“I don’t.”

“Right, you’re just crying because you really don’t care.” George finally spoke up, crossing his arms and the tweet sound that followed the movement would’ve been hilarious if a few tears hadn’t finally rolled on my cheeks. 

Clicking his tongue, Fred (Twin 2), wiped them away with his knuckles when I simply glared at the ground.

“I’m not upset by what she said, I’m just- I’m just so frustrated! I- I didn’t do anythin' toeh make 'er treat maeh and tha othar' gals like she daehs! I trieh' being naice and then I jus' trieh keepin out of 'er wey bu' she keeps- She keeps doin tha'!” I stomped one feet on the ground, teeth clenched while the twins raised their brows in surprise. “And I can’t say anythin' or else I’m the mean one makin' fun of the swot muggleborn as if I’m not a swot or muggle raised meself! And I don’ want to be mean, and I know I’ll make 'er cry if I say something and I don’t want to make he cry but at the same time lettin her wolk all ove me is gettin' on my bloody nerves!” 

“Ah.” 

Fuming, I clutched my books harder and tried taking a deep breath, looking up at the stone ceiling, flushing the longer they shifted on their feet and stood in silence, just staring at me. 

“I’ll be honest, Starling, I didn’t understand half of what you just said-'' I snorted, looking back at Fred while he rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at me sheepishly. “Seriously, what bloody language was that?”

“Prick .” George laughed when I kicked his twin’s shin half-heartedly. 

"Oi, you're the one speaking Scottish, I don't know Scottish, it's a whole nother language!" Laughter bubbled on my chest when George slapped his twin upside the head while Fred tried making his case. 

Their bickering gave me enough time to fully calm down, closing my eyes and feeling something unwind from my back at having spilled my frustrations out. A weight lifted from my shoulders when I was finally able to face them again, noticing they were waiting for me to say something else.

"Thank you. I-" They smiled kindly, and George reached over to pat my head gently, smile turning into a smirk at the tweet his robes let out when he moved. 

"You can thank us by telling me how you did it-"

"Hmm, I'm not that thankful." They cackled again, a resolute nod before messing my hair in sync. "I'll tell you next week, I have… something to do first." 

"I am- how did you say when we first met? Shaking in my boots?" George grinned, patting my head more gently before stepping away. "I knew we had chosen the right firstie." 

"Right you are, brother." Narrowing my eyes at them, I picked up on how they were pointedly not addressing each other, but I could play the game, sure. Fred's face turned serious again, and squeezed my shoulder gently, leaning slightly so I couldn't avoid his eyes. "If you ever need to scream at someone again, you know we’re here, right?"

"Right. Well, I have points to lose, and a Professor to make cry, so-" 

Quickly side-stepping their attempts to make my mess of hair even worse, I giggled and skipped away from their amused calls, clutching my books to my chest, feeling better and with my heart slightly hammering at their words. 

The Weasleys  are going to be protected even if I fucking die trying. 

Urgh, why hadn't Harry realized how sweet the twins were!? Now I keep getting sucker-punched by their actions! Fuck!

The classroom was empty besides a couple of Slytherin girls. They eyed me warily, tense with my approach despite being in bigger numbers. 

I nodded and moved to my previous seat, wondering if we'd be with the same people as the previous class. Maybe I could convince Harry to work with me- er, bad idea, he'd target us too easily. 

Maybe Theo? He seemed to know how to prepare the ingredients. 

"Are you ok?" Looking up in surprise at the girls, I noticed their attention on my hands and shrugged, realizing I had been flexing my fingers in thought. 

"A little tender, but I'll manage." I could, it was just annoying as shite. "I'm Lily, but you can call me Star. Moon and Davis, right?"

They eyed me warily again, nodding slowly as I hummed and promptly got back to ignoring them, thumbing my book and reading what potion we'd brew. They seemed uncomfortable with my attention, either way. 

As was the apparent norm, the Slytherins started to fill in before the Gryffindors, Malfoy and his cronies plus his fangirls were baring their teeth at me. My lack of reaction didn't seem to discourage them, but none made an effort to actually say anything to me. 

My Slytherin trio didn't take long to also show up, sitting where they previously had while I closed my book and smiled down at them getting settled.

"You won't believe what I heard at our table." Blaise whispered once I leaned closer, a manic grin on his lips while Daphne huffed with his antics. "So, Malfoy sent a letter to his father last night through one of his house-elves, right?" 

"Lower your voice." Daphne hissed, making him roll his eyes and gather closer to me as I giggled. "Stop enabling him, Star."

"Absolutely not, he's my main source of information, Daph. How am I supposed to know that Bulstroud wet her bed the first day or when Malfoy did something dumb? I need ammunition, don't I?" 

The witch snapped her narrowed eyes at Blaise with my words, sizing him up. 

"How did you find out about Bullstroud?" I tried not to shiver at Blaise's sharp smile, being suddenly reminded that Slytherins were fucking scary. 

"I have my ways." 

Theo didn't seem bothered by the staredown his two friends were having, reaching out for my hand to check the bindings again, making a satisfying noise when it still wouldn't give. I gave him my attention while the other two had their weird power play, smiling when he continued to move my hand around, twisting it trying to find the start of the bandages.

His grip on my wrist was gentle and his hands were cold, it was surprisingly soothing. I was suddenly hit with a wave of affection for the silent gentle boy with too many sweets on his person to be normal. 

Noticing my full attention on him, Theo raised his eyes at me, studying my expression before smiling. 

Uuuuurrrghhhhhh.

He made a sound when I pressed my cheek on his hand holding my wrist, bent over the table and too soft to do anything else. 

"Nobody talk to me, I'm melting." Blaise snorted, seemingly done with comparing prick sizes with Daphne. I made another noise when Theo's other hand gently patted my head, carefully brushing away the more visible knots. 

I am dying. 

"You're killing her, Theo. Honestly, Star, do you ever brush your hair?" Soon another hand joined Theo's efforts. "You're worse than Harry, at least he doesn't have control over it." 

I chortled, pressing my cheek against Theo's cold hand one last time before finally looking back at Blaise. A lazy wave of my wand had my hair in a simple updo, mindful that we'd be brewing something and not very keen on burning my hair in front of Snape, of all people. 

Blaise raised a brow at the move, but said nothing as he leaned closer again. 

"Anyways, Malfoy thought it was a good idea to brag to his father that he got you and Potter in trouble, thinking he'd get praised, right?" I nodded, letting him know that I was following. "Wrong. His dad all but called him an idiot for getting on the wrong side of the McKinnon Clan Head and the savior of the Wizarding world." 

"What? " I mean, I get not wanting his son to be at odds with Harry. 

The Wizarding world's luck was that Harry didn't truly understand the political power he had (and would continue to have if I had anything to say about it, no getting fucking slandered, thank you very fucking much). If Harry decided to one day get an interview and go on about how bad the Malfoys were, I doubt Lucius would keep his seats of power, besides the fact they'd be ostracized, of course. 

But to care about being at odds with me? 

I was the daughter of a squib who lived in an apartment with more books than space, it wasn't long until I discovered that we had any sort of money and that we were a Clan and not a House. 

"Why would he care?" They looked at me, like, really looked at me. 

Daphne's face was pinched, like it had that one day Harry asked what the Wizengamot was and what she meant that he had a seat on it. 

"When you said you didn't know what it meant…" 

I pursed my lips at Daphne's choking whisper, looking over my shoulder at the other Slytherins observing us. I knew they couldn't hear us, or otherwise there would've been sparks flying around with Blaise gossiping about them to a Gryffindor. 

"What's the difference between a Clan and a House?"

Theo reached for my wrist again, but Blaise and Daphne just… stared.

It wasn't funny like when we first talked, when we didn't know Neville's family dealt with herbal exportation, or when I said I didn't know any other professions in the Wizarding World that weren't Healer, Professor or Ministry worker. 

This had a feeling of whenever Harry learned something important from his family, how they'd stare at him in mild anger because how dare no one tell Harry about it?

"I think we're due some lessons, Lily." I stood in attention at the use of my name. 

Besides the twins' rare use of 'Lils', everyone else called me by my nickname, and sure, sometimes the trio would address me by 'McKinnon' when we were bantering, but someone had yet to call me by my given name, and having Daphne use it looking too serious had a tense knot forming on my shoulders.

With an hesitant nod, we all waited in silence for the Gryffindors to trickle in and for Snape to make his appearance. 

Not even his annoying drawl or Hermione's glare had me rising to bait. 

Theo worked in silence with me, and Snape's snipes about me finally being silent only earned him an unimpressed and flat look, which lost Gryffindor a point because why not.

Hermione glared at me as if I had done something and I took great pleasure in seeing her lose two points for not paying attention to her own brewing. Her horrified face was the only thing that lifted my spirits a little. 

The whole class Blaise and Daphne were muttering quietly, and I was sure they were making a list about something. 

They were my friends, and I didn't remember anything in book canon that linked them to being Death Eaters or having parents that were DE. The only thing I remember was that Blaise would (or would've ) ended up becoming Draco's friend, and Daphne his sister-in-law. That's it.

I tried to steel myself. 

They're my friends. I might not trust them with my life, but I trust them to tell me what made them so serious.

As was the norm, Slytherin got points for my potion while I was ignored. 

I feel like I should say that I wasn't a prodigy at potion making, I really wasn't. Not like how Draco was (and the kid really was good at it, I didn't see him check the book once.), but I knew how to follow instructions and look at the details. 

I didn't see whatever it was that Harry or Snape saw, so really, it didn't really piss me off to see him disregard my efforts. Potions was just a thing I did. 

It did piss me off how he targeted me for no apparent reason, though. He seemed to have decided I was a better target than Harry, which was a little worrying but if it kept Harry's eye shine to the subject, then whatever.

Snape didn't even bully Neville! Sure he'd sneer and snap at him, but he did it with everyone else so… yeah. Harry got mostly ignored, which I was noticing made him want to try even harder. 

Poor Ron looked like he was about to rip his hair out trying to keep up with our friend.

I'll admit to be slightly more unnerved that Snape was looking at Harry more thoughtfully than with disdain, and that I should really think harder about his hatred of me. 

What the hell has my aunt done to the man?

The rest of the classes seem to drag, even Herbology, which I usually enjoyed with all of Sprout's good teaching and the soothing motions of caring for the greenies didn't lift my spirits. 

When we were finally free, the boys silently followed me to the library, picking up on my serious mood and acting accordingly if not a little wary. 

Steeling a deep breath, I sat calmly in front of Daphne and her opened notebook full of empty checkmark boxes. 

"You might want to take some notes, Star."

Ah, shite.

Chapter Text

Blaise for once didn’t seem to have a funny comment to me, deciding only to follow Daphne’s request to keep watch for anyone eavesdropping and if that wasn’t enough to have me on edge, Theo wasn’t there. 

My little teddy cute son of a bitch with cold soothing hands and sweets wasn’t around. 

“What did your mother tell you about your clan?” 

Ron was using the time and Blaise’s silent company to make his History of Magic assignment, seeing as the boy was the only one besides me and Hermione to care about the class, while Harry gave up the pretense of doing homework to fully turn to Daphne and I. 

“Not much. I didn’t even know it was a clan before you guys told me.” My quiet admission made my cheeks burn, even if she had her pureblood slytherin mask on, expression blank. “I knew we were an old family, and I know Vold- you-know-who attacked mum’s family home in 81 a little before my second birthday, but that’s it.” 

Harry’s hand had found mine under the table, squeezing it gently when Daphne finally let out a strangled breath. 

“Anything else?”

“Um… I know a little about our family magic?” 

“Right. I need to tell you the difference between a House and a Clan first, then a story? It kind of involves you too, Harry.” When Harry and I nodded, she shared a look with Blaise before lowering her voice again. “All we know we picked from our parents, you know? Our families, the Zabinis and the Greengrasses, we’re neutral ground, or we try to be.” 

Ah. So that’s why Theo isn’t here. 

That’s… Something to deal with after. 

I never really- Well, I never really thought about their positions on the whole blood supremacy thing. Just because they weren’t saying stuff to us, didn’t mean they didn’t believe it. 

“So, a House is basically- er, a family. You can have side branches, sure, but they’re almost always only one family. The Potters, the Greengrasses, the Weasleys. They’re families old enough to be considered houses. Clans, they’re bigger.” 

“A Clan can be a whole community, if it’s big enough. They have Houses, Families, sworn loyalty to them.” What in the fuck?

“What? ” She nodded at my hiss, looking around to reassure herself nobody heard me before she shrugged. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that there are families,” Blaise put one hand in the air, then started raising it as if categorizing things higher. “Old Houses, Noble Houses, and then Clans.” 

Ron raised his brows, a tick of annoyment on his jaw before Blaise shrugged at my baffled face.

“It’s bigger in the political sense, or when we were at war. You see, your Clan is old, right? I said I’d study about it and get back to you, well-” Daphne pushed one of the thick tomes she had at the table in our direction, the writing seemed to be in a more medieval style, adorned in swirls and vines. 

I recognized the McKinnon Crest as soon as my eyes ran on the art, the wild boar, the castle, the cross and the ship. 

“Your clan, unlike most noble houses, can actually prove nobility! They can trace ancestry up to Alpin and the first king of Scotland- Ah, I’m getting sidetracked.” She cleared her throat, making me snort at her excitement, even though I was feeling a wave of dread rising up my spine. “We’ll go over your family history another time. Anyways, McKinnons? Big. They played a huge part in helping the Magical British Community to exist, even from Scotland. During the Witch Trials and the British Civil Wars, they fought the muggles so we could hide and form our society, right? So in thanks, a lot of families pledged loyalty and their magic to your Clan, besides the ones from Scotland who wanted to help with Britain.” 

“Right, but, again, what does that mean?”

“It means that if the Head of Clan calls, they answer. And they put their magic in the pledges, so it’s not like they can say ‘no’ without having some sort of consequence. It’s old magic.” 

The dread had crawled up my chest, and I looked down at the list of family names, now understanding what they meant. There were… a few. 

A lot. 

Though most seemed to have died out, if the swirling silver crosses were anything to go by. A few I recognized, mostly surprised by them, plenty of Mac’s and Mc’s, a few names I was pretty sure were not on the light side. And I think I found out why Theo wasn’t there. 

Pushing the book back to Daphne, I ignored Harry’s annoyed sound at having his reading interrupted, bowing my head so she’d continue her explanation.

“So, since all the pledges were made when they were at war, the Clan can call for arms. For aid. This is where it kind of involves you, Harry.” The boy stopped his grumbling, returning his full attention to our friend even as Ron slowed his copying, seemingly interested in what she was saying. “The war got better before it got worse. The thing is, Grindelwald never really got to our shores, and we haven’t had a war since the Wars of the Three Kingdoms, even then it was mostly muggle conflict. So all these families just… forgot that they had pledged allegiance and loyalty, right?” Oh boy.

Blaise finally snorted at my expression, sending me a knowing look while I took a deep breath.

“So imagine some families' surprise when they’re being called to war.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache forming the longer Daphne spoke.

“Right, but some of those weren’t exactly on the side my aunt died fighting for.” 

The Notts, for instance. 

Daphne rolled her shoulders back, squirming uncomfortably a little. 

“Yeah. Remember when I said it got better before it got worse?” Harry’s hand found mine again, probably drawing the same conclusion as me. “The McKinnons called in a lot of support. It wasn’t all willing, but it was support nonetheless. The numbers were tipping, some of the marked families couldn’t act because old magic was getting a hold of them- And well… You-” 

Blaise sighed, squeezing Daphne’s shoulder when she halted her words, clearly not wanting to say them out loud. 

“They got to the conclusion. You don’t have to swear loyalty to a Clan that doesn’t exist.”  

And there it was. 

I don’t know who had a tighter hold, me or Harry.

Even Ron stopped writing to fully turn towards me, looking awkward but still reaching behind Harry to put his hand on my shoulder like Blaise did with Daphne. 

“But the Clan didn’t end, did it?” Harry’s quiet but fierce voice cut through the sad mood, and I felt myself straighten at the strength in it. Looking down at him, I caught a glimpse of the man he’d turn out to be, who’d lead a war. 

His eyes were glinting, fierce and protective, and him not having any baby fat like the rest of us allowed him to clench his jaw stubbornly. His magic prickled my skin, I tasted the ozone on the roof of my mouth.

For the first time I was actually hit with just how much I loved him. 

I loved the others too, of course. Even the Slytherins who I didn’t trust completely, but trusted enough, but Harry- Harry was different. 

I grew up with him, in the other world. First with the movies, I don’t even remember being surprised by the plot twist of Prisoner of Azkaban. Because the movies were just always there when I was a child, I watched them before I could even understand what I was watching. And I might not remember every single detail of the books, but I remember Harry. 

And now I had him holding my hand to support me, challenging them to say that I had lost. 

Slowly turning to the Slytherins again, I smiled reassuringly at Daphne when she looked at me pained. 

“It didn’t, but a two year old can’t demand loyalty, can she?” I sighed, trying to reign in my temper about having to find out about this- fuck, not only why our family was targeted, but just- our Family- Clan history! 

It feels- I bit my tongue, trying to direct my mind to anything else that wasn’t how apparently most of the magical world knows about my family’s history while I hadn’t even known we were a clan. 

Was this how Harry felt? So much shit hidden from him, important things, parts of his identity, of his family. It was different, of course. He didn’t have anyone to tell him those things. 

I did. 

I didn’t know if I should feel worse or not.

“No she couldn’t.” Daphne muttered back, gently closing the book I had pushed back at her. It was old, peeling and cracked, but I felt whatever magic had it self-updating. “Again, it got worse. Dad wrote that everyone thought the Clan had been completely gone…  You- Well, most of us war babies grew up hearing about the McKinnons. About the show of old magic and old debts and to be wary of them.” She shrugged, eyes flitting from me to Harry. “Without the McKinnons tipping the scale, the light was losing. It was bad … Then Harry happened.” 

Harry flexed his fingers around mine, and I pressed myself on his side, both seeking support and offering. He slowly relaxed, slumping against me while the other three watched. 

In that moment I swore I felt something tightening around my heart, hooking me to  Harry. We all stood in silence for some time, Ron and Blaise continued their studying and Daphne watched Harry and I.

I wondered if this is what Sirius felt about James. If he also knew without doubt that he’d put his life on the line for his Potter.

Taking a resolute deep breath, I slowly straightened up, ungluing from Harry to stare back at our friend. 

“Tell me more. What does it mean to me?”

Her smile was sharp.

★★★

As Madam Pomfrey promised, the bandages unraveled Saturday under Theo’s careful watch. He twisted his lips in disappointment that they burned and disappeared once they were all out, but contented himself with gently running his cold fingers on the healed scars. They weren’t big, and I was sure that in a few weeks they would completely disappear, but Theo seemed amazed by them nonetheless. 

“Do ya want to be a healer, Theo?” He tilted his head a little, shooting a glance at me before shrugging. “You’ve got soothing hands, if you do decide you’d want to, I’m sure you’ll do great.” 

Theo flushed, a tiny smile on his lips while he looked at me through his fluffy bangs, squeezing my hands a little before settling back on the grass with his book. 

It was the first time we found ourselves alone. It was surprisingly hard to find time to be alone.

Ron and Harry were off doing something, Blaise didn’t want to be out, and Daphne was in the library studying more about anything on Clans or the Potter that she could get her hands on. 

I had a feeling that people didn’t rely so much on her, but she seemed very happy that Harry and I did. 

There wasn’t a need to fill the silence; Theo was happy sitting with his thick encyclopedia of mythical beasts while I laid with my head on his leg. I had taken a few books on divination, but the day was nice and I was feeling a tad lazy when his cold fingers started to gently thread my hair. 

I nearly purred at it, sighing contentedly even if he did it slightly clumsy. It was soothing nonetheless. 

While we lazed, I took my time to think about what I had written mum. 

Or better yet, what I didn’t.

I told her that I got hurt, but that it wasn’t serious, I asked her about Harry being able to touch the ring, but others couldn’t (we tested, it didn’t burn Ron, but it did zap him lightly enough to startle), I asked her to send some stuff I was going to need to mess with Snape and a few people, hell, I even told her about him. But I hadn’t been able to bring up why she was leaving me in the dark about all these important things. It felt wrong to ask it in a letter, so I didn’t. 

I wanted to. So much. But I didn’t. 

Was it right of her to do so? Why did she do it? If I had to guess (and I was), it was the same as knowing I’m a witch and deciding not to tell me. Maybe she felt like it was just a bigger wedge between us? Hell, maybe she doesn’t even know? 

Theo pressed his hand on my forehead, making me open my eyes to meet his curious one. I shook my head, reaching blindly to one of the books while he nodded and carried on reading his own.

Flicking my wand, I levitated the book to hover over my face, winking cheekily at Theo when he made a surprised noise. 

That charm had been perhaps the easiest one I had ever learned. Granted, I hadn't learned many charms yet, but I did make a big dent through the first year charms and tried my hands at the ones I remembered from the books. Maybe it was because it was the first one I tried once I got home after buying my wand, or maybe it was because of how famous it was for old me. But I had it down on my first try months before. I couldn’t do it wandless yet, but then again, I couldn’t do anything wandless yet. 

I might’ve been able to make some things wobble, but as Transfiguration, it had a lot of visualization, only mixed with intent. So it was slow going, but if I could at least have my wand back on me after being disarmed, I’d be happy. 

Of course, some defensive spells wandless might be great, but right now I was happy with my progress and needs. 

The levitation charm was also the only one I could do wordlessly, so kudos.

Lazily, I thumbed through the pages, not knowing what I was searching for besides ‘foreknowledge’. I had skimmed through them a little at the library, taking the ones that cited it. Hey, it wasn’t stupid. I did know things and I had a theory I needed to research and prepare for. 

When I didn’t understand most of what I read, I groaned before rolling to lay belly down next to Theo, who spared me a single glance before finally laying down too, holding his book up while I plucked mine from the air and prepared to actually study. 

I had to learn about the basics first. 

First, divination had actual magic behind it. I didn’t know if I was surprised or not, seeing as Prophecies were real. But the art of it? Very much real, just a lot less scientific than Arithmancy or Runes. It was a lot of interpretation, and only a few were really attuned to it, though with a guide and patience, most could work it. 

A few herbs even actually helped open the ‘inner eye’, I had yet to understand what that was, but I digress.

Ron, for instance. His predictions were correct, by the end of the day. I don’t remember the verbatim for what he read on Harry’s tea leaves, but I distinctly remember “You’ll suffer, but you’ll be happy”, and if that isn’t what happened- It might’ve been called foreshadowing, but I remember something about them predicting stuff without meaning to- So, yeah, I do believe in it. 

It was a tad boring, to be honest. Maybe it was the writer, but I had to really dig into it to get over the whole mysticism of it. Under it all, it was magic in its rawest form. Divination was dated back to the oracles, older even, but properly acknowledge with the use of the Oracles, and the Art started going with desuse with how much- I don’t want to say dark art, but with how much… er, sacrifice it took to have more accurate and pointed visions and predictions. 

So nowadays it was mostly an Art for those with better interpretation and open mind. Though I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that it should dictate your life, like how Dumbledore and Voldemort did.

And interpretation was a big thing, again. 

The prophecy could’ve been fit to Neville, but Voldemort did his own interpretation and made it about Harry. It’s the whole Oedipus prophecy situation. His father believed without sway that the prophecy he received about Oedipus would happen and sent him to die, and in doing so, created the circumstances of the prophecy. 

A Self-fulfilling prophecy. 

It was the same with Voldemort. 

Had he just… ignored it, the son of a bitch might have still been corporeal. 

Stupid bitches. 

Anyways. 

I wasn’t there to read about prophecies, so. 

I had to cut my studies short when Theo tapped my shoulder and motioned to the castle, feeling the hunger hit. 

We walked back in silence, as per usual, and I used the time to think about what I had learned as the basis of Divination (at least to the first author). 

It was old magic, called an Ancient Art, not more in use the way it was before. A lot of interpretation with the tools used. Magic people had an easier time with it than muggles because just as there are wizards and witches more attuned to the Art than others, magical people as a basis were more attuned than muggles. 

There were tea leaves, beads, pendulums, tarot cards, runes and a bunch of other stuff. 

I didn’t completely understand how they worked, other than like a wand facilitates our use of magic, those tools did the same for divination. From what I understood, it was a magic of its own, hence why not just anyone could spout prophecies. 

An itch formed in the back of my throat at the thought of all the information I’d have to go through to get to what I actually wanted to know: what was my knowledge? And the Hat’s comment of “one of you” had me thinking I might’ve not been the only reincarnated soul out here. 

I might not even have memories of my past (or future, if you want to get technical) life, they might just be a way of- of magic or whatever the fuck of giving me all that knowledge. 

Those questions, and a few others, were what led me to carry around a bunch of weird books in my messenger bag. 

Thank Morgana for featherlight charms. 

Seeing as we were having a late lunch and the only people on the Gryffindor table were Seamus and Dean, I followed Theo to the Slytherin table, smiling reassuringly when he shot me a surprised look. 

None of our friends were around, so I settled on pressing against my quiet friend’s side under the judgy stares and sneers from his own house, though none said anything. A quick and uninterested glance at the High Table let me know that the eyes drilling into us were from Dumbledore and Snape. 

I tried not to let it bother me much, it’s not like I was doing anything wrong, and I was counting on needing eye contact for them to see inside my head. There was a reason why I only looked between Snape’s eyebrows or at his nose, besides unnerving the shit out of him, of course.

We ate in silence, and while my friend read while eating, I moved to observe the Slytherins. None I could recognize besides the hulking scowling boy I imagined was Marcus Flint, if his quidditch shirt with a big C for “captain” in the back was anything to go by. 

A few other boys were scattered around him, a blonde boy made eye contact with me, narrowing his eyes and baring his teeth in a sneer. 

That move was getting old. 

Dismissing him without any reaction, I continued to observe the rest of them. Unlike Gryffindor, where there were small or large groups that didn’t exactly interact with each other, the Slytherins seemed to make an effort to present a united front. Much like Hufflepuff.

It was the one thing Blaise wouldn’t blab about to me, how Slytherin worked. 

Sure, he’d give me dirt or tell me the stupid stuff going on, but he was very tight lipped about conflicts or weak points in the House, not that I asked in depth. 

Theo had homework to complete, and I had a castle to explore. 

To be honest, I really wanted to use the rare chance of being alone to study the Room of Requirement. I was saving having to acknowledge the Horcrux when the Diary was destroyed the next year and when the wraith of said soul shard wasn't eyeing us from the back of a professor's head ( if he even was under the turban already, I don't remember if he always had Voldemort at the back of the head or if it just happened later on). But the rest of the room was free reign. The problem was finding the right place. 

I was on the seventh floor, but where the fuck was a weird painting? Something about trolls. 

Honestly, I might’ve spent 30 minutes or two hours walking up and down the whole seventh floor until I finally caught sight of the damn frame. It was the most ridiculous thing ever, with a wizard in the middle of a circle of dancing trolls with tutus. 

Pursing my lips to not laugh, I looked at the opposite wall. There weren’t any markings, and I couldn’t sense any type of magic around, but trusting my memory, I walked up and down the corridor, thinking very hard. 

I need a place to find things. 

I need a place to find things. 

I need a place to find things. 

A smile broke on my face at the door forming, it stood tall and it was slightly ominous, but with a quick look around, I stepped inside. 

It was a mess and God I was excited. 

Tightening my messenger bag across my chest, I set out to snoop. 

It was filled with everything. Jewels, full trunks, old and new, books, clothes, furniture, there were even wands around.  

I pointedly didn’t acknowledge the itching and urge to look up at the piles, knowing exactly what was calling out, and I tried not to think how much it felt like Harry, or at least the piece in him. 

Besides, I was more interested in snooping around the trunks, amazed by the old clothes and uniforms. Most seemed from upper years, maybe students who after done with Hogwarts, decided to leave their stuff. 

The skirts used to be longer, ending on the floor instead of over the knee, though the older girls used them shorter. The shirts weren’t white button up, they used to be more robe-like, plainer and thicker, the fabric scratchier. 

Of course, we didn’t really have any regulations on how to wear our uniforms, plenty of people customized theirs, but most just used the standard one. The only ones in my year that had customized uniforms were Malfoy, Blaise (because it’s Blaise ), Boot, Bones, and the Patil twins. 

The only thing that we couldn’t change was the ties. 

Most trunks left behind were from pant-users, very few feminine clothing, but I did nick a soft green sweater. It was a tad too big, but the fabric. Urgh, so soft. 

The books I found were mostly school books, though I’m pretty sure a few were dark magic. I made sure to toe them away, too scared of getting cursed by unknown magic where nobody would’ve been able to find me. 

I also avoided the shiny accessories, the necklaces and the rings were too grand for me to have any use, either way and I was wary of any piece of jewelry left behind on purpose.

Maybe once I learned how to check for curses I’d come back and swap things to sell them, but I was done for the day after a chest rattled ominously when I got close, picking an interesting transfiguration book full of notes on my way out. 

Now that was interesting.

★★★

Sunday night had me getting ready to finally put my plan to use. I had spent the whole day checking and rechecking my charmed threads, testing the rune I had carved into a rock I found around the black lake. I had the scotch tape I bribed off the twins, and the sewing kit Parvati let me borrow.

The funny thing about wizards, is that they have a magical alternative for most things, but they usually leave a trace. So going mostly muggle was the way to get Snape. I just knew it. 

I waited until Hermione stopped moving in bed, she was a quiet sleeper, didn't move much once she was out. 

Then, with light steps, making sure I couldn't hear anyone in the common room, I darted out. 

I didn't bother to cast Lumos, running quickly to the Great Hall as that would be the most dangerous one. 

I had to duck away a few times to avoid a Hufflepuff prefect, and a couple of Ravenclaws also out of bed past curfew.

Peeves nearly caught me, and it was only sheer luck that Madam Nor-r-ra caught his attention. It worked out for the best, as he chased her away, screaming in glee at the cat's hisses. 

The door was unlocked and I didn't wait to check for my luck, I ran to the High Table and ducked under Snape's chair, breath heavy and heart thundering as I waited to see if anyone had followed me or if I was about to be busted. 

When five minutes went by without as much as a step outside the hall, I smiled winningly and flopped on my back to look under his chair, searching for the rock and the tape inside my trusty messenger bag. 

The next few minutes I felt slightly like Cameron Diaz in Charlie's Angels, setting up the runes and trying not to get caught or jostle the chair to tip him off. 

Once the job was done and I was sure the rune was secure, I raised to my feet and quietly repeated the charm he tried every morning. (It took me a while to discover it, seeing as he simply flicked his wand in quick movements, but after days of research, I had recognized it.) 

The charm didn't find the rock with the runes in it, seeing as it wasn't glued by magic, but by our old and trusty scotch tape.

My next stop was the laundry room. 

I only bumped into the Bloody Baron, but he was too jaded to care about a firstie out of bed or near the dungeons, he merely looked at me and carried on his haunting. I doubt it even registered to him what he saw. 

The elves had shown me where it was and how to get inside, and had unknowingly told me that Snape washes his robes every day, and wears them fresh. They’re delivered in the morning, so the clothes are crisp and warm, and they don’t work after midnight. 

The laundry room was near the kitchens, and if a student wanted to get inside they had to follow the pattern of a tapestry with one finger while pulling on the corner of it. Once you finished the pattern, yank the other side of the tapestry and let go and a door would appear. Of course, elves had shortcuts, but they were elves, powerful and scary when they wanted to be.

I was large, divided into so many sectors it was a little disorientating. 

It was separated a little like this: Houses, then by year, then by gender, then by dormitory if there was more than one. So, divided four, then into 7, 2s and how many other dormitories. 

A good thing I didn’t need to make any fucking calculation to find my victim. The professors had their own sector, and only one wore all black long robes. 

With a mischievous grin, I set to work. 

My heart was thundering once I was finally back in bed, safe and sound and surprisingly without getting caught. 

I felt elated. 

Fuck. Fuck. 

I had to smother my face on a pillow to quieten my giggles. 

Being honest, I did not sleep. Not even a nap. The morning could not come any faster, and I gave up at about 4 in the morning, whisking the Divination book and casting a weak Lumos to not disturb the girls too much. 

I got about two hours of reading until I heard Hermione getting up. 

Still didn’t get what I was searching for, but I did learn that there are a whole bunch of different Seers. 

There are Seers who See the past, not necessarily their own, and most of Past Seers can activate their gift at will, seeing as - according to the author -, they could do little to no disruption of the linear future and what the Fates had written- Scary, by the way, the idea of Fate . Anyways, that’s more common, and in Ancient time they would’ve been judges where a crime could not be proved. That, obviously, fell out of use because of cases where people either lied about their visions, or just weren’t Seers. 

Now it’s more a party trick than something big. 

There are prophetic Seers, read: Trelawney. They don’t have bigger abilities, and most don’t even know they are, seeing as they can’t remember what they spout. They’re still more attuned to the Ancient Arts than others, but can’t force it out, and they don’t see the future. A prophecy is not the future. 

There were those who saw glimpses of the future, those were rarer, because the future is always changing. Sure, it works linearly, according to the author and most who study the Art, the Fates have it written- or better yet, woven, but your choices still change the outcomes. 

There were a few others, but none that fit what I knew. 

I didn’t have any abilities, no prophetic dreams, no visions, and I think mum or my friends would’ve noticed if I had been spitting out prophecies. 

Trying to seem inconspicuous, I moved as I normally would, and tried not to barge up the boys’ dormitories to make them go faster. It was sheer luck that the twins were also up once we were setting out, something about needing time to do their homework. 

I could feel a grin trying to pull on my lips when we got to the Great Hall and most professors had yet to arrive. 

Say what you will about the man, but Snape was consistent. 

The Great Hall was open by six, at seven breakfast was served and at nine classes started. 

He always arrived at eight, ate until eight thirty, then he left to either sulk elsewhere or prepare for his classes. I did not miss that with that schedule he had minimal interaction with the other Professors. 

By the time he showed up, the Great Hall was at full peak, and by the grace of the Gods, it was right at the moment of silence where most people were actually eating and not chatting. 

Snape went through his normal and fast procedures, checking his plate, cutlery and cup, and I held my breath when he waved his wand around his chair, biting my lip to stop an excited chirp when he put his wand away, not betraying anything if he found something wrong. 

Clutching the seat under me, I watched gleefully as a loud ‘QUACK’ rang through the air when he sat down, silence cutting through the air and everyone snapping their attention at a frozen Snape, seeing as most professors were turned to him in confusion. 

I slapped my hand on my mouth when the smallest of movements released loud and crazy duck sounds, when he jumped from his seat, pulling his wand out and snapping his cloak, the most delightful of sounds reverberated through the Hall.

A bray. 

A donkey- An arse sound. 

That did it for the bunch of teenagers that broke in panicked howls of laughter. 

Glad that my own would be muffled, I curled over the table, slamming my fists on the wood and crying laughing at his red cheeks and snarl when he waved his wand, thinking he had dispelled the charm only to snap his cloak again and have the sound ring out again, being followed by the flurry of ‘quacks’. 

When I looked over to the Slytherins, they seemed a mix of appalled and pissed off that their head of house had been at the end of a prank. All but one. 

Daphne was gaping at me, and her expression only made me laugh harder, wobbling my brows when her mouth opened even more at the confirmation of who had done it. 

She wasn’t the only one gaping at me, of course. 

A set of ginger twins were also in tears, looking at me in a mix of awe and fear. 

“H-How?!” A shark-like grin was my only reply, not only because Snape’s eyes were burning at the three of us, as if he knew one of us was to blame, which- I had no idea why he thought I would do anything, but the twins I understood. 

Ron and Harry were both curled over the table, hiding their laughs while Hermione was glaring at us angrily, Percy was trying to quieten the table down but even the other Prefects were losing it when Snape’s stomps out kept making brays and quacks.

Oh boy, what a great start of the week.

Chapter Text

I should've probably been a tad more considerate of whoever had classes with Snape after my tiny bit of vengeance, and perhaps I should've felt bad for the man for what he had to go through in front of a bunch of teenagers- I knew getting laughed at sucked, but at the same time…

I just… didn't… care.

Phew. 

Yeah…

Anyways, eh- I was about eighty-seven percent sure that he knew I did it. 

How? 

No clue, because besides the twins and Daph, no one looked at me, and Daphne would rather pull out her own teeth than admit that she knew I was going to do something to someone and still let me, and the twins wouldn't rattle on me out of sheer principle. 

Thing is? I'm pretty sure the other professors also suspected it. Most of them would just look at me warily, but professor Flitwick was, as I was quickly discovering, down to see me torment others with clever uses of Charms.

"Ah, Miss McKinnon! A moment, if you will?" The boys stopped with me, but when I looked at the Professor and saw that it didn't seem anything serious, I patted Harry's shoulder. 

"Do not put me by Granger's side." With a snicker, a nod, and a quick glance at Flitwick, Harry dragged a giggling Ron out with him while I approached the amused-looking Professor. "Is there something wrong, Professor?"

"Oh, no, no. You see, I have a colleague who's very attached to his robes," oh shite. "And recently it has been making these odd sounds, and my colleague cannot stop talking about it. Unfortunately, I have not been able to un-do the Charm." He smiled, eyes glittering maliciously and I couldn't tell if he was elated that Snape was so bothered, or if he was annoyed that the other professor wouldn't shut up about it. 

"Oh? I don't understand what you're asking, sir." 

Flitwick stared at me long enough that I was almost shifting the weight from one foot to another, nearly breaking eye contact like the beta bitch that I was, until he - honest to God - giggled.

My mouth clicked loudly shut once I realized I had been gaping at him, blinking in surprise until he wiped his tears of mirth. 

"Ah, I apologize, Miss McKinnon. I should've been clearer, if you were to un-do the Charm, what would you do?" 

I pursed my lips, studying the happy professor and wondering if he'd rattle on me. I was hopefully counting on him considering me one of his favorite students. 

"Well… if I was to… do something like you're describing… I'd… find a way to look deeper within the threads."  

Flitwick guffawed again, clapping and giggling while I was trying my damn best to not smile.

"Of course. And if you had to take a guess about why it triggered when it did?" 

"Hmmm, I'd say that revealing spells don't find taped runes." 

"Magnificent!" I couldn't hold back my smile when he looked up at me proudly, a shine on his eyes that had me blushing. This was Flitwick. The man is a goddamn legend and he's praising me, ok?! "Take 20 points for Gryffindor, Miss McKinnon." 

It was my turn to cackle when he looked at me conspiratorially, rubbing his hands together before giving a resolute nod. 

Did I just get points for fucking with a professor?!

"For what, professor?" 

"For staying after class, of course. What else could it be?"

His smile was sharp, but his eyes were full of mirth and I wondered if Snape would've reacted like that to Fred and George with their amazing potions, if he was just a little less bitter. 

"Thank you, sir!" 

With one last chirp, I skipped to my next class, giggling the whole time, so happy that I barely paid any mind to Peeves chanting something while he followed above me. 

He must've gotten bored with my lack of reaction, because when I glanced up before entering Quirrell's class, he wasn't there anymore.

I scowled at Harry when he saved me the very seat I told him not to. 

At least he had the decency of looking apologetic.

"What did he want?" I ignored Hermione's glare at Harry while I sat down, ignoring Quirrell’s stuttering greeting to me before he started the register, knowing I had gotten there just in time. 

"Just to ask me some stuff. Guess what? Gryffindor is 20 points richer." Hermione made a sound, having clearly been eavesdropping even as I whispered. We glanced at her quickly before Ron beamed at me and raised his hand for a high-five. "Now I get to annoy Snape enough to lose- Present - to lose them." 

They snickered while I had a feeling Hermione was gearing up for a rant by my side, it was only the fact that we were in class that she didn't burst out into one. 

Small graces, I guess.

The walk to the Great Hall was done between laughs and plans about how to best lose the 20 points I had won, even as Granger stomped ahead. We caught up to her outside the hall, eyes glaring at the point counts. The glare, of course, moved to me once we passed, but I was getting very good at ignoring her, even if I felt like I was about to burst with all the words clogging my chest. 

After lunch and homework, Ron dragged us outside so he could play chess with Theo, muttering something about being the only challenging player until now. 

The silent boy was alone when we arrived, and I didn't lose any time to lay on the grass with my head on his legs even as he startled at our sudden appearance. 

"What're you reading?" Harry nudged my side, sitting close enough to watch the other two have their silent game while I picked up the transfiguration book I nicked from the Hoard™, as I was calling it in my head.

"Dunno. Something about transfiguration." Ron made a disgusted sound that had me snickering while he complained. 

"We just left class and you're studying already?" 

"No, it just looked interesting. I don't have anything else to do!"

"You still haven't played for us." Harry reminded, raising a brow at me when I huffed annoyedly. 

"Granger gave me trouble for playing in our dorm." Even though she had just arrived and I hadn't interrupted anything of hers.  

It was basically a mantra at this point to just remind myself to keep quiet around her. Honestly, I'd be glad if we could co-exist in the same friend group. It was a little sad, seeing as she had been one of my favorite characters, but I think my fanon memories might've distorted what I thought she might be, that if I offered friendship she'd be glad about it, or that she'd like to have another smart girl as a study buddy, but she burnt every olive branch I've extended and I’d keep remembering that the reason she didn’t like Harry with Snape’s Potions book, wasn’t because of the dangerous spells, but because it made Harry better than her at class.

She couldn’t muster why people weren’t as studious as her, but at the same time she hated when people were. Hermione didn’t like to be academically challenged.

Again, disheartening. 

"And I'm not going all the way to the dormitories and back just to play for you guys." 

"So you'll read?"  

"Yeah! I can teach you how to do it too, if you want?" Harry snickered at Ron's grumble while I smirked at the book, humming quietly when Theo's hand rested on my forehead after he made his move. 

The book was interesting, it didn’t seem like it had anything that should make someone hide it, but I was still at the start, so I’d save my opinion for later. I tried not to think about mum’s lack of response to my letters, maybe I had been too dry on my last one? Or maybe she was just busy? She probably lost her bracelet and that was why she hadn’t sent any messages to my ring, of course.

Right. 

I twisted my ring with my thumb twice, stopping myself from completing the last one to send her a message. That was stupid. God it hadn’t even been that long! Barely a week, it was fine.

Urgh. 

"What do you think it's on the third floor?" My eyes snapped at Ron, who was too focused on the game and shouting pieces to see my sharp gaze on him. "Fred and George said there's a troll."

"They're always saying there are trolls." Ron snorted, glancing at me as I finally sat back up, scooting closer to Harry and resting against his shoulder as he also adjusted to press his against mine more comfortably. "I don't know. Maybe there's a puppy or something." 

"A puppy?"  

I shrugged at Harry's disbelieving voice, making a noise when I noticed the fork Ron was setting up for Theo. He needed to move his bishop, better force Ron to take it now than let the boy make his trap. Theo would lose, if it happened.

"A really cute one, I reckon." Fighting my grin at their snickering, I kept my eyes on the game, deeply entrenched on how Ron had set up a trap for the trap. Ingenious. "Besides, I bet it's actually to trap troublemakers."

"How so?"

"Why else would Dumbledore tell a bunch of kids and teenagers not to go somewhere? That's like dangling food in front of Ron and telling him not to eat it-"

"Hey!"

"-so maybe it's just to write us down? To pay close attention to those that can't follow orders?" 

I was pulling that out of my arse, but shite, I needed something to keep them away from the corridor. 

Thankfully, my crazy theories seemed to leave them thoughtful, it'd have to do it for now. Hopefully, it would quell a little of their curiosity. 

Theo side-eyed me from under his fluffy bangs, a single raised eyebrow when I tried to smile innocently at him. 

It was a bitch trying to lie to the Slytherins. It was a good thing they never called me out on it, though; Theo always seemed unimpressed when he heard me lie, Blaise mostly looked amused, like he was watching a puppy bite his hand thinking it was mauling him, and Daphne had a deadpan annoyed look, utterly done and without an ounce of patience.

They might not call me out on it, but they sure as hell made sure I knew I had been caught. 

What was hiding in the third floor corridor was quickly forgotten to give room for Ron to talk about Snape and his treatment of me, as well as about the other professors and the classes. 

Theo, as usual, responded by either shrugging, nodding, shaking his head, or making so-and-so waving. 

The evening ended with Ron and Harry dragging me back to the Great Hall for dinner as I finally got to the part of why the book had been hidden. 

Oh and how it made my little fan heart leap, it went into human transfiguration. And you know what that means? 

That's right, it means that next year this girl is raiding some greenhouses and taking some mandrake leaves for some animagus transformation (transfiguration?)!

It was on our sleepy way to Astronomy that I decided that I should make a list of all the things I either needed to study, research, learn and try. 

Pressed on Harry's side, as usual, and trying to wake myself for the class, I made a mental note of what I'd be jotting down as soon as I could get my hands on my notebook.

STUDY/LEARN:

1. Defensive Charms (ready for second year material? Might look into fourth year stuff?);
2. PATRONUS CHARM (not blessed with Harry's protagonist protection, probably can't learn in a year, want to avoid ma boi getting targeted);
3. Offensive spells;
4. Fiendfire
5. Animagus? (Question mark?? Might be cool? Give an advantage? Might be really cool?);
6. Runes (before third year, need to find a way to protect Harry from the Dursleys - 5 from research);
7. How to duel;
8. Privacy charms;
9. Real Occlumency;
10. French and Bulgarian (for obvious reasons);

RESEARCH: 

1. Divination branches (am I seer? Is this universe the same as mine, just with magic?);
2. Soul magic (reincarnation);
3. Transfiguration and Why I Suck at It;
4. Does the timeline stay the same no matter how much I change it?
5. Can runes be used to make someone invisible/not be bothered/forgotten about;
6. Clan Head stuff;
7. Politics (?)
8. Lily Potter's house wards;
9. Does Harry have anything else other than the Cottage in Godric's Hollow?

TRY:

1. fuck with Snape again;
2. Put itching powder on Quirrell's turban;
3. Learn the names of the house-elves;
4. Befriend Granger;
5. Warding my stuff (just for funsies);
6. Convince Harry to spend the hols with me and mum;
7. Get Ron and Neville new wands;
8. Steal the Diary before Ginny writes on it;
9. More pranks (made my heart beat faster very much enjoyed it, try to keep it harmless)
10. Socialize Harry more? More support?
11. Get through most of the Hoard;

Right. I really needed to jolt all of that down.

I stifled a yawn once we all dropped down on our pillows, rubbing my eyes and trying not to glare at Lavender for keeping me up when I had wanted to nap before the class. Jumping slightly when Professor Sinistra clapped once, raising an unamused brow at our tired faces when we turned towards her. 

"I see some of you still haven't adhered to the nap rule." There was some grunting around, not that I really paid attention, trying to stay awake and all. "It's a good thing tonight you'll start mapping the stars-"

That time I heard the loud grunts. 

★★★

Thursday had us all a little weary, even though I was excited at the prospect of flying later, what with how I had to save Nev from falling and ending up in the hospital wing during the first flying lesson. It wasn't just the tiring lesson a few hours before, the day was slightly gray and even with being used to the Scottish weather, I still mourned the temperature turning cold.

Besides, I had set myself up for the stupid task of having cake for Hermione's birthday later that day.

In my defense it wasn't so bad when I asked the elves, and I didn't really think , but hey, who knows, maybe this is what makes her stop breathing down my neck and trying to bait me into exploding on her. 

Hopefully.

Neville smiled kindly at me, pushing the pumpkin juice jar away from my reach and exchanging it for the tea as I took a seat by his side. 

“Thanks, Nev.” His eyes twinkled when I patted his hand before I rested my head on his shoulder, stifling a yawn and blinking slowly at the table while I lazily put my breakfast together, sliding a few berries on Harry’s plate in front of me and humming appreciatively when Ron absentmindedly handed me the honey without taking a break from scarfing down his food.

“Morning, Star!” 

I blinked at Lavender, grumbling something under my breath that had her giggling when I started eating my breakfast with eyes closed, making sounds when I was asked questions, and slightly excited for History of Magic (or as was commonly known, nap time). 

Not even the sounds picking up around me had me opening my eyes. I was pretty sure I had fallen asleep biting my toast with jam and resting my head on Neville, and that someone by my other side had stopped me from falling back. 

I startled awake at the sound of something dropping in front of me, some plates - including mine - getting knocked either to the floor or around, ignoring Finnegan and Thomas’ snickers at my reaction to finish biting into the toast and trying to understand what I was seeing. 

There was a long and thin package in Harry's hands, and even without opening and with my bleary eyes, I could tell that it was a broomstick. The whisper of a memory from a movie, a chopped and quick scene drifted behind my eyelids while Harry scrambled for the letter on top of the package, I tamped it down, waving it away as if it was made of smoke and blinked faster, trying to clear my thoughts as I straightened. 

Ron was leaning over Harry’s shoulder, trying to read the note with him as I eyed the wrapped broomstick, a stab of suspicion itching the back of my throat. 

Who paid for it?

Did McGonagall take it out of her own pocket as a gift for the Boy-Who-Lived? Because Harry certainly continues using the broom outside of school. Did the money come from Harry’s vaults? If so, there were going to be problems. 

If it came from the school’s funding, then who the fucking hell approved to have the most expensive broom there is on the market (and it is expensive, I caught sight of it when doing my shopping and I nearly balked at it), and why the bloody hell was it wasted on a broom when they could’ve used all the money for people who needed it for their education?

You know, like Ron with his wand. 

Hell, maybe even fucking afford for children who should not be returning home to their abusive guardians to be accommodated at Hogwarts. 

I felt bitter. 

Harry looked gleeful before he tried to hide his expression, handing Ron the note and making the boy moan enviously and I made grabby motions for the paper, confirming my suspicion of what was under the parcel. 

DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.

It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand,

but I  don’t want everybody knowing you’ve got a

broomstick or they’ll all want one.

Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch

pitch at seven o’clock for your first training session. 

 

Professor M. McGonagall

Fucking McGonagall. 

I shot a dark look at the High Table, quickly backing my eyes away and trying to reign in my annoyance when I crossed eyes with Dumbledore. This is so going to fuck Harry’s study schedule.

Handing the letter back to Harry, I quickly finished my half-eaten breakfast at their eager urges for me to hurry up!

Neville squeaked in surprise when I pulled him to accompany us, but the boys didn’t bat an eye at it, by now used to having one of us drag the shy boy with us since he still doesn’t believe we want him around. 

Maybe we need another Slytherin to make his? I’m sure they’d be most protective of the sweet boy pudgy boy. 

I almost regretted dragging the boy with us when Malfoy and shit for brains intercepted us. 

God, this kid is annoying. 

My hand clamped down on his wrist when he tried taking the package from Harry, smirking at his surprised ‘eek’ before I - weakly - pushed him a step back. 

“It’s too early for this, Malfoy. Move.” 

Ron and Harry puffed up by my sides in answer to Crabbe and Goyle cracking their fists. Malfoy’s face was red, looking up at me in anger before squinting his stormy gray eyes at the package Harry had clutched closer to his chest once he realized it had been almost taken from him.

“That’s a broomstick,” His pointy face pinched in jealousy and spite as he flicked his eyes at me when I stepped in front of Harry once Draco had tried stepping closer again. “You’ll be for it this time, Potter, first-years aren’t allowed them.”

“It’s not any old broomstick! It’s a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you’ve got at home, Malfoy? A Comet Two Sixty?” I bit back a groan at Ron’s gloating, nothing good came out of baiting Malfoy. I couldn’t see them, keeping my gaze locked on Draco and my other hand on a squirming Neville, but I could nearly feel Ron’s smug grin to Harry. “Comets look flashy, but they’re not in the same league as the Nimbus.”

“What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn’t afford half the handle-” nope. Nuh-uh.

“Were you raised in a bloody barn?” Draco’s mouth clicked shut at my snarl, and once again his face reddened and he spluttered when I looked down my nose at him. “Was your mother so ashamed of having you as a son that she gave up on you before teaching you some manners?”  

There was some stilled silence as he blinked up at me stunned and as Ron made some choking sounds behind me, Neville squeaked and Malfoy stared. My eyes snapped at Professor Flitwick appearing next to a still stunned Malfoy, and I had a slight feeling that he was this close of shaking in excitement. 

“Not arguing, I hope?” From his tight squeak and the mirth shining on his eyes I knew exactly that he heard what was said, especially when he smiled sharply. 

“Potter’s been sent a broomstick, Professor.” I rolled my eyes at Draco’s words before snorting at the horror on his face when the short professor beamed at Harry, that hidden mischievous glint shining on his eyes.

“Yes, yes, that’s right! Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?” 

“A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir,” Harry’s answer was choked out, like he was trying really hard not to laugh, and I loudly slapped my hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter when he spoke again. “And it’s really thanks to Malfoy here that I’ve got it.”

Dragging Neville with us, I finally allowed myself to laugh as the boys snickered and discussed the truth of what Harry had just said. Even Nev was giggling by my side, following me as I ignored Hermione’s attempt at guilt-tripping the boys for breaking the rules, I even ignored her baiting me, it went one ear out of the other, didn’t even register the words as I walked up the stairs. 

We had to wait for Harry to leave the package in their room under the reminder that we’d be late if he opened it then, besides, he’d have a chance to ride it later at his practice. 

The classes were a hazy blur, I slept through all of History of Magic with Neville by my side poking me when it was time to go, seeing as the boys were too excited about the broom to steer me around, Neville took the job by gently holding my wrist and getting me to walk. 

By the time we had lunch and one last class, I was finally awake enough to remember my question from breakfast.

“I want to ask Professor McGonagall something, you can go on.” The three boys shrugged and made their way outside, either already going to the training grounds or back to the dorm to change for the flying lessons. Said Professor raised a brow at me when I waited for everyone to trickle out, eyeing the way Granger scowled at me on her way out. 

“Was there something you needed, Miss McKinnon?” She asked dryly, her accent so like mine that I was reminded me of the names from the families that pledged loyalty to my Clan. The McGonagall family was there. 

Was that why she didn’t like me? 

Perhaps she didn’t like the power imbalance, and I’d understand her being wary of a child with too much power on her hands. I too would be pissed if I was the Head of House and might be forced by magic to cater to the whims of a child. 

“I’ve got a question, actually, ma’am.” Plenty, actually, but I’d rather scratch my eyes out than ask her about Transfiguration. “Harry’s broom… Who bought it?” 

Silence. 

McGonagall’s lips thinned as she looked at me with something I couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t anger, but maybe a little annoyed and wary? 

“I don’t understand your question, Miss McKinnon. What is it that you hope to achieve with it?” My brow rose at her biting tone, that was a little… hostile. 

Alright, that’s a little… unexpected. 

And very much unwelcomed.

I felt my temper rising at it. 

Fucking incompetent adults with too much power on their stupid fucking hands.

“I hope to achieve knowing that Harry’s money isn’t being used without his knowledge or consent.” 

Her brows shot up, cheeks reddening slightly while I jutted my chin stubbornly and challenged her to answer me, still feeling the burning in my chest at the uncalled hostility. 

What was it with people wanting to walk over me and treat me like a walking talking doormat? 

“I assure you, Miss McKinnon, that Mr. Potter’s broom was a gift from me.”  

SEE? WAS IT SO FUCKING HARD TO SAY THAT INSTEAD OF IMPLYING I WANTED TO GET SOMETHING OUT OF IT?!

“Thank you for telling me, Professor.” 

I bit back, a clogging of frustration in the back of my throat at my constant treatment, hoisting my bag higher on my shoulder and stomping out lest I say something that would really get me in trouble.

For the rest of the day I was in a foul mood, flying took a little of the edge from it, but with Madam Hooch blowing her whistle repeatedly and threatening to not let me fly anymore if I continued to be so aggressive and fast about it, my mood continued dampening. 

Not even seeing Harry’s awed face at his broom had me feeling any better, the sight of it only a reminder of how I had been treated earlier. I understood that I couldn’t be liked by everyone but- but, I had hardly done anything to earn the instant dislike. 

Even Hagrid would be a little wary of me sometimes until he caught himself, and I’d be the one who left with more rock cakes because he felt guilty. I was doing fine ignoring it, Snape was the only one who actively acted on his dislike of me, after all, but being confronted with it by my Head of House left me feeling bitter. 

Which was probably a bad combination to have with trying to socialize with Granger. 

I won’t go into detail about what happened, but let’s just say that one of us ended up storming out to cry and, surprisingly, it wasn’t her. 

Needless to say, it was a bad day. A bad week, without mum writing back, with having my efforts being ignored, with the nagging feeling that I should know why they acted the way they did about me, and with my to do list screaming at me that I’d never have time to do any of the things I put down, even if we were barely a month in. 

If the twins were surprised by me invading their room before they went to bed, they were great at hiding it, and Lee and Matthew didn’t bat an eye at a crying firstie on their dorm searching for their roommates, so I had to believe that they were used to it or just too desensitized to odd things happening with the twins. 

I hadn’t paid attention to who circled my shoulder and let me cry on his side after I told them that Hermione had all but slapped the small cake from my hands and that now because of me Lavender and Parvati were angry with her, and how the professors were acting around me, about mum’s lack of contact, how I had so much to do and there wouldn’t be time-

It was a mess.

Lee and Matthew were suspiciously busy with their things, and Fred (scar above his right brow) was patting my head, humming lowly and the vibrations on his chest through my cheek had me sniffling while George was sitting on my other side, holding my hand and waiting for me to be done spilling my guts out. 

There were a few moments of silence as I tried to stop the tears from spilling, pushing my face against Fred’s side as he moved from patting my head to rubbing my back soothingly. I barely noticed that Matthew had crouched in front of me and was offering me a chocolate frog with the uncomfortable smile of a teenager dealing with a crying little girl. 

Unsurprisingly that the twins knew what to do, Ginny always seemed closer to them than the others, anyways, but still a nice thing. 

“Thank you.” I hated how small my voice was. 

I hated that this was all because of how other people treated me when I had done nothing to earn it. 

A part of me wanted to. 

Earn the treatment, that is. Act how they were reacting to, as if I had been mistreating Granger, or using whatever fuckery of old magic I had over McGonagall, be a bully and pantsy Snape in front of the class as he was treating me like. 

Maybe fuck around and start my villain arc, who knows. 

Biting into the chocolate, I pushed my face against Fred’s side again, beyond embarrassed that I just dropped in before they were going to bed to just cry on them. 

“Better?” His warm hand patted my back again until I nodded, still hiding myself and finishing the chocolate. 

“I don’t know why they treat you the way you do, Lils. And I’d say that you don’t deserve it, but you already know it, don’t you?” Another nod and George hummed by my side. “Is this about how you can’t react?”

Wow they’re just hitting nail after nail, huh. 

“You can.” Fred patted my back again. 

“No, I can’t.” Finally pushing away and rubbing my cheeks free of the tears, I noticed that Matthew and Lee that both gone to bed and closed their curtains, giving us an illusion of privacy. 

The twins had their serious faces again, brows set and eyes sharp as they waited for me to explain. 

“I can’t because- McGonagall is McGonagall, you know? And Granger- she’s just… alone. She’s alone and lashing out and if I prank her or if I’m mean to her it’ll just make it worse and I don’t want to make it worse.” 

“You’ll still have to set her straight one way or another, Star. Just because she’s feeling bad, it still isn’t an excuse to treat you the way she has. Your feelings are no less important than hers.” 

But she’s a protagonist. 

I’m just… me. I had been taking the spot she was destined to, I had been warming her seat, and what would happen later if I unleashed everything on her? Then what?

I had no ties to the story that I myself hadn’t created by befriending Harry. 

I wasn’t supposed to exist. 

So who was I to hurt Hermione? To fight back? 

“Right.” Smiling tightly, I squeezed their hands before raising to my feet and wiping away the rest of my tears, feeling the anger and shame rising for getting worked up over- over a kid not wanting to celebrate her birthday with me. 

I felt pathetic. 

Fuck. Fuck. 

I needed to get my shit together, the thought that Snape would catch on my weakness and pick me apart didn’t do anything but remind me that most adults should just shrivel and die already. 

Halting, I looked down at the hand holding my wrist, raising a brow at Fred as he looked down at me with all his seriousness, blue eyes sharp and narrowed. 

“We mean it, Star.” Pursing my lips, I nodded once again, grunting in surprise when he pulled me into a proper hug, resting his chin on top of my head and swaying us a little, and I allowed it to soothe me. Weird thought, but I missed mum. “Talk to us again if you need, alright, Starflower?” 

Starflower. 

I liked that. 

“Alright… Thank you, Freddy.” He squeezed me in surprise, but said nothing even as George snickered behind him. 

"Anytime, Star."

The next day I didn’t bother to mediate between them, I was still prickly about Hermione flat out telling me she didn’t want anything from me the night before, and so if the girls wanted to tear into her for taking people’s space, be my fucking guest. 

“Er, Star?”

“Hm?” 

“Why did your mum send me a letter?” I halted my movements, jelly dripping into my plate as I slowly looked to the side to see Harry bemusedly looking at the still closed letter. 

“Maybe it’s to tell you to keep your friend out of trouble-”

“Mind your own fucking business, Granger, and stop putting yourself where you’re not wanted.” I spat, finally sneering at her, ignoring the way she paled and flinched, I wasn’t in the fucking mood for her snide comments, not that day and not about my mother. Fuck. 

Taking a deep breath, I turned back around to Harry, who was fidgeting on his spot and looking at me worriedly and warily, almost afraid. I winced slightly, knowing that he was afraid of my reaction before I relaxed and shrugged, continuing to spread jelly on my toast, smiling a tad too tightly, but smiling nonetheless. 

“Dunno, Harry. Maybe she just wants to get to know you? I speak about you guys a lot, after all.” 

“You… do?” I softened at the way he looked at his letter in wonder, eyes huge and shining behind his glasses as he peered at me again. My chest felt tight, and my next smile was more real before I nudged him gently and knocked my head with the top of his weakly. 

“Of course I do, Harry.” The boy smiled down at his letter and I gave him his privacy, though I was dying to know why mum had sent him a letter but not to me. It… stung a little. I tried to remember what I had last written, was it because I told her I had lost the ring? Was she mad because of it?

Ron was trying to read Harry’s letter from the other side of the table when Harry chirped that she had also sent something to him, while Neville quietly observed me. I shot the shy boy a reassuring smile before hiding my face behind my cup, and we still had clan and House training with Daphne later that day… yikes.

“So… What did she want?” 

I couldn’t help myself, alright? We hadn’t even reached the dungeons yet, but I was curious. 

“Do you want to… have it?” I shook my head. I couldn’t do that to him when he seemed so happy after reading it, the way he gently wiped away any crinkles and carefully put it between his books. He still reached for it when we sat down, and I almost pushed back before he glared at me. “Just read it.” 

I eyed the letter warily before doing as told while Harry turned to Neville to ask about the last Herbology assignment. 

Mum’s pretty handwriting greeted me and I couldn’t help but smile at it. 

Hello, Harry!

I feel as if I should introduce myself first, so… Hello, I’m Leanna McKinnon, Lillium’s mother, as she hopefully spoke about me before (or we will be having words). I’m a librarian and I like reading. I know, surprising, yes?

Well, Star has been mentioning you and your other friends so much it only felt right to send you a letter introducing myself as I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you plenty. 

Firstly, congratulations on making the team so young! It is an incredible feat and something to be very proud of, indeed. But do not feel scared to tell your professors if the training is getting too much and in the way of your studying. 

Star has told me a lot about you and Ron, but perhaps you could tell me a little about yourselves?

What are your favorite hobbies? Favorite colors and subjects? 

Ronald, thank you for pushing Star to relax. I know she says she loves reading and studying, and she does, but my daughter also has a very big problem of never relaxing. 

I am beyond thrilled Star has found friends like you to take care of her when I can’t. 

Please, I am bored and would be delighted if you tattled on Star to me from time to time about all the mischief she’s getting up to. I promise she won’t get in trouble, but please amuse a lonely lady! 

Leanna McKinnon

“Huh.” I blinked my tears away and slid the letter back at Harry, who smiled knowingly and stored his letter again before Snape arrived and took it from him, placing it between his books again.

That was innocent enough, but I still felt like someone punched me in the chest. Now Ron’s red face and determined eyes were explained. 

Twisting my ring around thrice, I sent a single question to her, and I didn’t know if I wanted to know the answer. 

Why are you ignoring me?

Here is our Dumbass McKinnon, as kindly named by Apple, that's her name now pls only refer to Dumbass McKinnon, the bimbo, by it:

Now without the bad shadow work, lmao:

Chapter Text

“Wait, they’ll what?” Daphne raised her eyes from the notes she was taking, one blond brow rising as Ron snickered, and Harry followed my lead of being pleasantly surprised. 

“They’ll take your name.” 

“But… I’m a girl?” To say the purebloods of the table balked was being nice, Ron was looking at me like he couldn’t believe what just came out of my mouth and the Slytherins looked a mix of appalled and amused. Leave it to the Slytherins to somehow better my mood after Snape’s class, while still tilting my worldview upside down. 

“You- What did you think would happen!? That you’d marry and let the Clan die?” Blaise wheezed, bent over the table and muffling his choked words on his arms. At least Harry understood my awe. “No- you- Out of everyone at the table, you’re the one that wouldn’t have to take anyone’s name, swot.” 

“But- How?” 

“Like me.” Daphne shrugged, finally shaking herself out of her shock and pushing her notes away, and Harry and I knew that we should drop our note-taking to pay attention.  

These lessons were morphing to them talking about important things that they learned when they were younger while everyone helped each other with their homework. Blaise helped Ron with History of Magic, Harry pushed his notes of Potions to who needed, Theo with Transfiguration, me with Charms and Astronomy, Daphne with Theory of Magic and DADA, and Ron with whatever was left, if we needed. 

“Ron, did your parents tell you why most purebloods dislike your family?” Said boy stopped his copying to tilt his head in thought before scrunching his face and shrugging.

“Besides us being blood traitors, and dad not wanting to take his seat back in the Wizengamot, not really.” 

My fellow blond nodded thoughtfully, pursing her lips a little before looking between us, not so secretly satisfied with teaching us.

“It’s also because the Weasleys are maybe one of the families that are actually blessed instead of cursed.” Ron’s brows raised to his hairline, and we exchanged curious glances before looking back at her. “You’ll find the most pureblooded families have some kind of blood curse, it’s why purebloods are usually single children. There are a few known ones, the Greengrass is that every other generation, it’ll only be girls, hence, me and my little sister.”

“The Malfoys are cursed to only have one child, just one heir, no spares.” Blaise added, and I nodded slowly, remembering something about it from the Cursed Child, not that I actually finished it. “So are the Notts and a few others.” Theo nodded at that, but didn’t meet my eye. 

“The Carrows come in magical twins, and when one dies, the other follows, and they’re dumb as they are crazy.” 

“The Blacks have their madness-”

“-The Zabinis only have one male heir and they’re usually infertile-”

“-Parkinson, only girls-”

“-Potter, mostly single children-”

“-Prewetts, magical twins again-”

“-Bulstrode, only girls-”

“-Crouch, single children-”

“-Flint-”

“Okay! We got it!” Blaise smirked at my hiss as I tried to blink away the haze of watching Daphne and him spout off their crazy family knowledge. “So most families have things with infertility and or single heirs or girls, alright- But what does that have to do with the Weasleys?”

“They’re curse free.” Daphne also smirked at our dazed expressions. “Their curse is only that by name, it’s more of a blessing, really. I don’t remember the story, but they were blessed with fertility. No matter what, the name carries on.” 

“Huh.” Was Ron’s intelligent response, face thoughtful as Blaise smiled at him. 

“Either way, I just needed it as an example.” Daph waved away the building talk about to happen between Blaise and Ron. “With so many chances of not having male heirs, or having them and not being to carry on the name, or just having one child, the Wizarding community doesn’t care anymore about that schmuck on girls taking the name of others.”

“My mother was born a Zabini, and even if I don’t take someone’s name and I’m the oldest, my sister will be head of the House.” Blaise shrugged, not at all bothered by it as he settled back onto his chair, looking like an asshole prince who just told everyone he has no responsibilities. “Unless she wants to take someone else’s name, then it goes to our youngest.” 

"You never told us you had little sisters, you twat!" I accused, throwing my quill his way, smiling at Theo's snicker even as Blaise dodged my attack. "When are they coming to Hogwarts?” 

“They're not. Camilla will go to Beauxbatons and mum is deciding between Durmstrong or Academia Imperial to Valentina.” He shrugged, a small smirk curling on his lip when I raised my brows. “Divide and conquer, this way we all gather our own allies.” 

“Right.” Shaking my head, I turned back to Daphne, waiting for the rest of the lesson. “And how does that rule work?”

“It’s not a rule, more like a… guidebook. You take the name of the one with a bigger social standing, so you wouldn’t take anyone’s name from this table. I assume you’d like to carry on the McKinnon name?” She raised a brow, smiling softly when I nodded resolutely. 

“But what if, like, you married Harry?” The boy by my side squeaked, and I almost snorted at his cheeks getting darker, snickering when he sank on his seat at Daphne’s shark-like grin. “Would he take your name or…”

“Nope, I’d take his and Astoria would have to carry on with the Greengrasses. It’s not even just social standing, but also the understanding that the Greengrasses have someone else to carry the name while the Potters only have Harry.” 

“Not everyone follows it, and it’s more of a common sense thing than anything else. Keeps the family name alive.” Blaise tapped his knuckles on the table and shrugged again. “It also depends a lot on how the families and houses are structured. The Zabinis are matriarchal due to the male heirs being infertile, less of a headache. So are the Bulstrodes and Parkinsons.”

“And if the heir is a single child and can’t have children?”

“Blood adoption.” Both of them said in sync, not batting an eye and I had to wonder just how many pureblood families were pureblooded only in name, and how they found ways to cling to it.

“It’s… surprising .” At their blank looks, I shrugged, picking up my quill again and thinking it over. “I just thought- You know, with the whole threat of getting disowned I assumed it would be a big thing to let someone else other than a male heir keep the name.” 

“Well, there is a difference between taking someone else’s name by marriage and being disowned, hag.” Making a face at Blaise’s wry tone, I flipped him off, lips twitching in a smile at his affronted face before Ron cleared his throat.

“So… The first goblin war?” We all turned to look at Ron and his more than a little red face. 

So cute. 

Later that day, I found myself tapping my wand against my lip and looking down at my list, face scrunched as I tried to decide what I should start with. 

The Patronus didn’t seem so important now, but I was no Harry and I doubted I’d take only a few months to master it, even if it was a Charm. And all the others were mostly study and too complicated or long term, like offensive spells- That’s not so cut out, I’d need to research which ones and then, I’d train. 

Sighing out, I raised to my feet after stuffing the list back into my bag, looking around the Room of Requirement and humming at the dummy that materialized. 

Maybe I should just go through the ones I remembered then I’d search about them? 

Putting my hair up while kicking my bag near the door, I took another breath and rolled my shoulders back, taking position. 

“Stupefy!” My mouth twisted at the red light lighting up on the dummy’s shoulder, who spun a little and returned to face me. 

My aim was off. 

That was a thing, huh? 

Grumbling, I tried again and again and again, until I was successfully hitting its chest, smiling at the green light even if my hair was sticking to my temples with the sweat. It still wasn’t perfect, but I was getting more green lights than reds, so it was a win. 

“Hm… Levis- Levicorpus? Levicorpus!” The dummy trembled, but remained on the ground, as if something was missing and it probably was, my bet was on the wand movement. “D, D, D… Diffindo… Depulso… Deprimo…” My nose twitched, a smile pulling on my lips at the other dummies materializing without my prompting. “Thanks, I won’t try those too much.” 

D for destruction, it seems. I thought wryly, taking a step back and aiming again. Well, if it explodes I can at least try my luck on Protego. 

A good two hours later I was laying back on the floor, panting as if I had been running around, sweating like a pig and smiling like crazy despite the fact that I indeed had to try my luck on the protective charm against all the splinters and pieces flying my way and that a trip to Madam Pomfrey was very much needed for all my scrapes, cuts and bruises. 

It still didn’t feel like I did enough in terms of scraping defensive and offensive spells. Even with the room’s help of dropping books plucked from the Hoard, it didn’t feel enough. 

Which was hilarious considering Harry’s own repertoire of spells by the end of the books - that I remembered - basically consisted of the Patronus Charm, the Disarming Charm, Protego, and Stupefy besides the other basic ones. It was, again, safe to say that I didn’t have Harry’s protagonist's armor of being able to survive with such short resources. 

Though it was saying something that the boy usually ended victorious despite that. It either meant that I had greatly overestimated the supposedly ‘powerful’ dark side, or that I was just being needless judgy and an overachiever.

Hey, who was to say that Harry just had some crazy good luck when encountering enemies too? Maybe it’s a counterbalance, with how many times he ran into danger, it’d be the universe’s way of apologizing by making said dangers weak ass bitches. 

Let us not forget that despite having trained for almost a year, those were still fifth years, with no real dueling experience, who went toe to toe with the supposedly bests of the bests of Voldemort, who had lasted enough in a war against the magical police force until their leader got fucked over by a baby…

It’s stupidly hilarious to think about it, actually. How pathetic to get thwarted by a bunch of teenagers.

Sure, they were just out of Azkaban, but c’mon. 

I rolled my shoulders, lifting my wand without sitting up and trying to conjure any happy memory and pinching my lips at the panging hurt on my chest at the idea of my mum. Right, so… That is not going to work. 

Scrunching my face, I searched for any other happy memory that mum wasn’t involved in, as hard as it’d be. 

Thirty minutes later I had a terrible headache and felt like I was going to throw up if I as much as cast a Lumos, glaring cross-eyed at the ceiling with having only managed to get a few pitiful tendrils of… brightness? It was surprising, but it wasn’t light. It shone, sure, but it seemed like- Like that disturbance in the air around a flame, like heat waves? But it wasn’t hot?

Welp, if anything at least my aim would get better with these visits.

★★★

I didn’t really have an enemy. In fact, I didn’t even hate anyone at school. 

Hermione, despite the animosity, I still held out hopes for and was usually only annoyed by her overbearing personality, but I didn’t hate her. 

I didn’t care about Draco enough to consider him an enemy or to hate him, he was just there. To be honest, I didn’t even dislike him. Sure, he was a bully and an arse, but I didn’t hate him. He felt a little like an annoying mosquito that you just couldn’t slap away, always appearing in your line of sight once in a while to taunt you with its existence, but that you didn’t care enough to put some effort into killing. If he wasn’t constantly targeting Harry, I wouldn’t have noticed him. 

Shit, not even Snape or McGonagall. Sure, I had no amount of respect for either of them- but it wasn’t… it didn’t feel personal. It was merely my normal reaction to incompetent adults in charge of young lives, or to people with power that abused it and directly or indirectly affected children. 

I didn’t hate them. Snape was disgusting and I certainly disliked him and his whole existence, but besides the part he had in the building anger and frustration I felt about how I was treated, Snape didn’t really cross my mind that much seeing as I only had to deal with him for half of a morning, he wasn’t a constant presence as- say, McGonagall who I had more classes with. 

All in all, besides feeling mildly annoyed - amusedly so -, I didn’t think I had an enemy or someone I hated at Hogwarts. 

Until I met Adrian Pulcey. 

There was just… something about that Slytherin that grated. Of course, it might’ve also been because the first time we actually met - besides that one time he bared his teeth at me when I had sat with Theo at the Slytherin table -, he shoulder checked me, tripping me to the ground and then sneering at me, like the little fucker he was.

“Watch it, McKinnon. It’s enough to have you leeching on our Slytherins, I don’t have to deal with a squib whore’s filthy daughter-” And of course, it might’ve also been that I got my first detention for exchanging blows with him in the middle of the corridor, but again, the boy just grated. 

I’ll admit that I hadn’t even thought about hexing him to hell and back despite how I’d been practicing offensive spells that week, my first reaction was to just jump to my feet and throw myself at him for daring calling my mother a squib whore. 

I hadn’t even seen someone turning the corner, screeching about getting a professor, it made sense one would be around since I was on Hufflepuff and Slytherin territory, having just left the kitchen after talking the elves into putting a disgusting amount of pepper on the twin’s chalices the next morning, I just… pounced. 

My face burned and my ears rang and I idly heard someone gasp around me before I tackled Pulcey to the floor, much to his surprise if his undignified squeak was saying anything, and just… went to town? 

It wasn’t badass, that’s for sure. But it was gratifying. After the third punch and second slap, he seemed to come to his senses and finally realize that a) he was bigger than me, b) I was a twelve year old awkwardly scrawny kid while he was a 14 - probably 15 - year old quidditch player, and c) I would continue beating the shit out of him if he did not stop me. 

He got in a few punches and hair pullings himself as we rolled around kicking, screaming, spitting curses, scratching, and punching before we both flew into different directions and got pinned to the ground by a devastatingly strong force.

“What is the meaning of this!?” I was still struggling against the invisible force to go back to pouncing on that fucking twat to register that a professor had just caught me fighting and that Sprout was scary when angry. “Miss McKinnon, we do not resort to violence-”

“He called my mother a-!” My snarl was cut off as I continued screaming in silence, not caring that the professor had taken my voice. 

“Yes, I quite heard it.” Pulcey blanched slightly, his bruises already purpling - much to my satisfaction - and he seemed ready to piss himself at the Professor’s stern glare. “Be assured that he will be dealt with accordingly, and so will you.” 

With a scowl, I bared my teeth at Adrian even as Sprout sighed tiredly and finally let us go, pinning us with a stern gaze that did not affect me with my lack of care for authority figures. 

“Starting with, 20 points from Slytherin for appalling language and for fighting, and 25 points from Gryffindor for starting a fight.” I huffed, not slightly bothered by losing five points in total to the 20 I had gotten us from Flitwick. Those points were mine to spend and if anyone gave me shit for it, we’d be having a problem. “Follow me.” 

Exchanging glares with the Slytherin, I sullenly wiped the blood from my nose and tried not to cringe at the pain around my face and ribs, moving to pick upu my bag and glaring down at my stained sleeve. 

Well, Draco is already Harry’s arch-nemesis, I guess I found my own. 

I stamped down the childish urge to trip the boy as we both followed behind a tense Sprout, contenting myself to sneer back at him whenever he glared my way. 

Fucker. 

Promptly ignoring the wide-eyed stares and the whispers, I took notice of his flushing cheeks and didn’t know whether I should feel offended that he was embarrassed for getting caught by a teacher fighting a first-year girl, or vindictive because of it. 

“What, embarrassed to get your arse kicked by the daughter of a squib wh-”

“Miss McKinnon.” Was my only warning to shut the hell up as we reached a faintly amused gargoyle. I bit my tongue in order to continue glaring at undesirable number 2 as the stone being stepped aside at the Professor’s request, and despite (probably) not being a real living thing, it looked waaaayy too amused at the sight of us for me not to make a face at it. 

It was only as I was walking up the spiral stairs that it finally dawned on me why Pulcey seemed on the verge of bolting or tearing up. 

Holy shit, I was brought to the principal’s office. 

Not as hilarious when you realize that said principal was actually Headmaster Dumbledore, a scary powerful motherfucker with a scary powerful wand and scary powerful legilimens. 

With arms crossed defensively in front of my chest, I kept my gaze up as Dumbledore watched us in slight disappointment while Sprout relaid what she walked on. I tried not to snort at her appalled wording of me tackling a hulking boy to the floor before proceeding to go nuts on him, it wouldn’t do me any good if I actually got in trouble for it. Well, real trouble. 

“I see… Lemon drops?” I stilled, letting my face blank and holding my breath to not burst into a laugh, and slowly took my eyes off the tall ceiling to the old wizard offering a bowl of candy. 

“Yes, please.” Happy that I hadn’t squeaked, I accepted the candy with no small amount of humor while Pulcey squirmed on his chair and shook his head politely. “Thank you, sir.” 

Dumbledore seemed amused when I stuffed my pockets full of candy, leaving about half of it and I had the vague impression that Sprout suddenly looked very tired. 

“What’s going to happen, sir?” Adrian asked in a surprisingly level voice, not wavering despite his clear effort to not squirm. I didn’t bother hiding my eye roll as I popped one of the sweets in my mouth, loudly crackling the paper when he opened his stupid mouth. “I was attacked after all-”

“Pussy-”

“Miss McKinnon!” I pursed my lips, but sent an apologetic glance to the only other adult from the school (besides Flitwick) that I liked, cringing slightly at her disappointed face and fuming glare. 

“He is…” 

My quiet mutter seemed to be heard by the big boss himself if the twitch in his beard was any indication, but he remained impassive while I adjusted on my seat again, sending one last glare at the sniveling Slytherin sitting beside me.

“Ah, Miss McKinnon, I understand that Mr. Pulcey’s words were less than savory, but you must know that Hogwarts does not tolerate such a reaction.” Blah Blah Blah “Tell me, was there a reason for you to react in such a manner?”

I had a feeling that petulantly saying “Because I ain’t no bitch” wouldn’t exactly work to keep me out of (more) trouble. 

“I’m a firm believer that the answer to prejudice is a strong reaction.” Forcing my face to smile innocently, I squinted my eyes with my fake smile before turning to cock my head to the side and look at Pulcey, who seemed more on edge than before with my eyes on him. “I am sure Mr. Pulcey will think twice about calling my mother- or anyone else’s really, a squib whore, won't he?” 

The room stilled, and I felt stupidly proud of the way he paled even further. The boy was looking awfully clammy underneath his bruises and the bits of dried blood. 

I bared my teeth in a mock smile, ducking my chin slightly and leaning closer. 

“Won't he?” 

All in all the adventure ended with two weeks' worth of detention for us, though Dumbledore seemed smart enough to keep us separate. I’d be taking my detentions with Sprout while the blonde asshole would have his balls shined by Snape in thanks for getting me in trouble, I was sure. 

Fuck Adrian Pulcey.

“Follow me, Miss McKinnon.” 

Sullenly doing as told, I slung behind Sprout and did my best to pretend I hadn’t just been in a fight, despite my bruising jaw, knuckles, and the dried blood I had badly wiped away from my nose. At one point even the twins had come barreling with the masses to watch me trail behind the professor, eyes wide and mouths gaping. 

The image had me snorting, and I watched the people none too discreetly start the gossip mill. 

Fun. 

A few more minutes and I found myself sitting in a stupidly cozy office, drinking hot chocolate and eating the most delicious biscuits I’ve ever had, not that I paid any real attention to it with both Flitwick and Sprout looking at me like disappointed parents. 

It was a low blow to bring Flitwick into this, but it wasn’t like the rest of the school wasn’t aware that the only two professors I held any real respect for were the ones sitting across from me, the only other adult I had no problem with was Madam Pomfrey for the chewing she did on Hooch and her no-nonsense attitude. 

“I am very disappointed in you, young lady.” I shit you not, if I was a dog I would’ve flattened my ears and rolled over to show my belly with Flitwick’s words. My stomach soured as I sunk into my comfortable chair, noticing the Helga Hufflepuff painting looking mildly amused at the scene before she left her frame. “I expected better of you than swinging fists like a heathen.” 

Oof. 

“I’m sorry- I just… I didn’t think.”  

And wasn’t that something after almost two weeks of daily training? 

Had I been someone else I would’ve wondered why that had been my first reaction when I preferred to ignore taunts aimed at me. It usually felt insanely more satisfying to tear at someone’s emotions than at their faces, but I just… It didn’t matter. 

“Clearly.” I flinched at Sprout’s dry tone, taking a sip and not saying anything else, letting their dressing down continue. “I am not saying you are not allowed to feel anger, but you are not allowed to get caught in your reaction.” I stilled, slowly lifting my eyes and trying to read them, but besides Flitwick’s usual glint, neither of them betrayed anything. 

“I… see.” Was I understanding this wrong? Probably, there’s no way that Sprout- Sprout was telling me not to get caught, was she? 

No… She wouldn’t, right? 

Right!?

After a quick trip to Madam Pomfrey where I received yet another scolding, walking into the common room bruised and bandaged, to be greeted by cheers and congratulations was a little dizzying. 

I was still trying to understand why so many people were patting my back and why the older students were pushing me around proudly when I was snatched from the fuss up into two shoulders, shrieking and clutching two redheads in surprise.

“Give it up for McKinnon! She who beat the crap out of Slytherin’s best chaser!” Oh. 

Arses. 

My face felt hot when they finally let me down with all my squirming at the hoots and claps, getting grumpier by the second that me getting into a fight with a boy twice my size was earning me claps. 

Sure, it did wonders for my ego, but if I had been someone else, would they be alienated by the positive response for getting into a fistfight? 

“We knew you had some fire in you, but damn, Star.” 

“Oh, bugger off.” The twins snickered at my growl as I shook them off, stomping to my corner where my friends were waiting with eager expressions. Harry halted his letter-writing when Ron jumped from his seat at the sight of me, a peek at his it let me know that he was writing mum, as he had been doing for the past weeks.

I could hardly get mad that she still hadn’t answered me when Harry made starry eyes at every letter he received.

“Did you really get into a fight!?” I looked from my bandaged knuckles to the boy, one brow raised until he snickered and shrugged. “Fred and George were the ones that told us, I didn’t know if they were lying.” 

“Fair.” Harry slid to the side, letting me slump on the seat tiredly. “Got detention with Sprout every day for two weeks.” 

“It could’ve been worse.” We all turned to Neville, who had his nose on a Herbology book. His eyes flitted to me and I was sure he was hiding a cheeky smile. “It could’ve been two weeks with Snape.”

★★★

“Gloves on, Miss McKinnon.” Dropping my bag under the bench, I sent Neville a confused look. The hell was he doing there? Sprout smiled at my face, patting Neville’s shoulder when the boy ducked his chin and flushed. “Mr. Longbottom here helps me prepare the lessons for the next day, you’ll do the same.”

“That’s nice… Do the lessons change every year, Professor?”

“It depends. You’ll see something different than the current second years did, next year.” Ah, there we are. I was wondering why I hadn’t found any mandrakes when I was sneaking around the greenhouses for worms to put on Fred’s shoes in response to the red hair I was sporting. “With smaller years we can afford to have more hands-on classes. I’m sure next year there’ll be even fewer firsties. Now, watch how Neville does it. I’ll be taking care of the carnivores, if you have any questions, just shout.” 

All in all, it wasn’t so bad for a detention. Neville was quiet and a little embarrassed, but relaxed and confident nonetheless. 

“You’re really good at this, Nev.” He flushed, but he really was. Like… magically so. My eyes traced how the plants we were setting up for the third years were curling and happily settling in their pots after Neville patted the dirt, some even moving to reach for him for one last scratch. “Like, really good.”

“Oh- Thanks, Star.” 

“Hn.” I looked from my plants to his, wondering if I was doing something wrong or if it was just his green thumbs. “Nev… Are you doing wandless magic?” 

“What- N-no?” 

He was. 

“You are! Look!” Neville looked down at the plant he overmagicked at the startle, making a noise and gently coaxing it to uncoil. Giving it my full attention, I could feel the buzzing of his magic - whatever it was - as the plant slowly returned to its normal state, shuddering and reaching for the boy’s fingers once it was done. 

My friend merely shrugged, and I nearly slapped my forehead for forgetting that poor Neville also didn’t have his own wand, having been so deep in my sulk and thoughts of how to approach McGonagall to ask about how Ron could get a new wand. 

“Say, Nev… I forgot to ask, but what did Ollivander say when you bought your wand?” Cocking my head to the side, I pretended I hadn’t noticed his flushing face while I repotted, glancing at his own work and trying to mimic him. 

“I… I didn’t buy a new wand. Gran had me use dad’s wand. So- So I can be a little more like him.” I swear- fucking adults.

“Oh, Nev… I’m sure your dad was a great man, but you don’t have to be like him.” My heart throbbed at the sweet boy shrinking on himself, blinking away his tears as I moved around the bench to press my cheek on the side of his head. It was telling how much these wizarding kids craved affection when he pushed his head back gently, putting more pressure. “You’re amazing on your own, you don’t have to be anyone else.” 

“I- I know I’m- I’m not good at magic like-”

“Shush.” His sniffle had me melting as I knocked our heads gently. “I think it’s because of your dad’s wand, Neville.”

If Sprout noticed me quietly explaining about wands and their loyalties the same I did to Ron, she made no move to stop us for taking a break on our work, though I had a feeling she saw how upset Neville was. 

Neville was at least giving it a thought by the time Sprout returned to see if we were done and to free us. I stopped at the sink, washing my hands slowly and watching the professor check our work while my gentle friend waited for me, still deep in thought about what I told him.

“Um, go ahead, Nev. I want to ask Professor Sprout something, if you don’t mind.” He startled a little, stopping his nodding to bite his cheek a little. 

“I- I’ll just wait for you outside, so you don’t have to come back alone.” 

Gods. 

I love this boy. 

Sprout was already waiting for me to approach her when Neville posted himself outside. It was darkening a little, already, with Winter slowly creeping up on us and the days getting shorter. 

“Professor Sprout- um… Cedric Diggory said that- that if we- well, if we ever needed to talk you’d… listen… to us?” My face felt hot at her softening gaze, but I kept my head high as she guided us to a bench to sit down. 

“Is this about why you reacted so strongly to Mr. Pulcey? You’re usually much more… regal about such taunts.” 

“Oh- Well, I actually… I had a question and I’d ask Professor McGonagall, but- But she doesn’t really like me and I didn’t want to ask and then mess things up if-”

“Miss McKinnon, take a deep breath.” Sprout chuckled, patting my hand gently as I held my breath. It was just… nerve-wracking to not know if you can trust your professors. The idea of asking something important to McGonagall had me breaking into hives, because how can I trust her to tell me the truth? “You can ask me anything and I’ll do my best to answer it. And when you’re ready to talk about why you reacted the way you did, my greenhouse will always be open.”

I let my breath go. 

Chapter Text

PREVIOUSLY:

Star learned that she gets to keep her name if she marries someone; Our MC also started using the Room of Requirement; Got herself an enemy and into a fistfight, earning two weeks of detention with Sprout, and started asking for help from an Adult™. 

The next weeks were spent in a haze if I was honest with myself, and I had very little time to spend with my Slytherins even though Blaise always seemed to be squirming to tell whatever gossip was going on in Slytherin because of me. 

I’ve heard plenty. 

Very little was true and most were hilarious. 

I particularly liked the ones where Pulcey cried and pissed himself in fear, and it brought me great joy to fake-lunge at older Slytherins who liked to get mouthy and stupid Ravenclaws that sided with the boy, their flinches never failed to make Ron snicker. 

You tackle a boy twice your size once and suddenly it’s like you’re an unhinged animal.

Either way, I wasn’t too phased by how people were treating me. It wasn’t all that bad- actually, it wasn’t really even a little bad. Most people found it hilarious, and it’s not like brawling on the corridors was rare. Do you really think that with a bunch of children living and studying together 24/7, there wouldn't be fights breaking up once in a while? 

Pluh-ese! Oliver Wood of all people was the one to pat my back and tell me that I just started the brawlings sooner than expected, seeing as once Quidditch season started, so did the fighting. 

It only stirred others up because I was a firstie and initiated a fight with a third-year quidditch player. 

Again, it passed in a haze. 

I’d squeeze in some training session after my detention and then would spend the rest of the night slumped against Harry, who was equally tired from his own quidditch training, or I’d bicker with Ron between doing our homework and poking Harry until he did his. 

Neville was my angel with his soothing companion during detention, and more than once the boy saved me from the slimy death grips of the plants. Later on, he’d help me with Herbology assignments as I was quickly finding out that I did not have a green thumb with the lessons progressing.

There were no changes with the Patronus and deep down I knew I’d only start having some improvement when I came face to face with mum (hopefully during the Christmas hols), and I already had plans to sneak out if she dared saying that I couldn’t go home with a bunch of redheads and a green-eyed little brother. Howlers be damned. 

The twins were even starting to hint at showing me the damn map! I’m sure they’d agree to sneak away through Hogsmead with us if I asked nicely.

Granted, they had only made one comment or another. A joking “she really is up to no good” here and a “do you have your mischief managed?” there, but still!

It was without saying that Snape was going hard on docking points from me with all the pranks going around between the three of us, he seemed to understand the pattern that mine were usually muggle based with a few charm tweakings with how many times Pulcey turned up to be at the end of a prank, though he was suspiciously silent when Quirrell was the one with rashes and coloured teeth. 

I tried to keep it respectful and less target-y, unless we’re talking about Pulcey, of course. He can choke. 

Not that I was done targeting the twins either. They seemed to find some kind of thrill in making my hair different colors and textures, and I was even thinking of writing a damn paper about magic showing on goddamn hair with how much my mood changed depending on how my hair looked. 

By far, the worst had been the limpy pale blue. It had me weirdly lethargic and I swear my magic just didn’t make embarrassing noises out of my wand out of sheer stubbornness. 

There was definitely a pattern of me constantly being able to take them by surprise with muggle ways while they landed heavily on magic, not like I wasn’t weaving Charms into my pranks as well.

What else… Ah, yes. 

Hermione. 

Something happened. I had no idea what, but something did. 

She just… wasn’t around? 

The girl had taken to ignoring the boys ever since Harry received his broom, and soon after, she did the same to me. Not that I was complaining, but I was surprised by the lack of nagging about the points I lost, or about the tussle I got with another student, even about me playing my guitar in our dorm. 

She had been suspiciously quiet, only glaring from a distance, or sending me these long looks that I had no way of interpreting. Hell, maybe I was imagining it, with how tired I had been the past weeks, maybe she did nag me and I simply didn’t notice. 

To be completely honest, I didn’t care. 

It might’ve been stupid or selfish of me, but with how tired, frustrated and emotionally ready to snap at anyone outside my friends that so much as breathed wrong in my direction, I just didn’t care. 

I couldn’t. 

A part of me (a big part) knew that I was this close to doing something else I’d regret, and with Halloween so close I didn’t want to try my luck on being the one to push Hermione on the troll’s way. Mum hadn’t answered my message through the ring, and I had yet to receive any letter other than the one I got chastising me for getting in a fight. 

It left a bitter taste on my tongue seeing Harry receive his letters, how Ron was sure to have a paragraph for himself on them while there wasn’t a single greeting for me. I hated the feeling that clawed at my chest, that itched the back of my throat and made me want to tear through something. An unknown sharp coldness that I had to constantly keep in check lest I gave in to the urges to add in the cruelty in my pranks, or be nasty in my spellwork or bickering with the twins or Blaise, or (Morgana forbid) actually goad Granger. 

Funnily enough, it was Harry that always managed to keep it at bay. 

A gentle elbow on my ribs, a knock of his head on my shoulder, a raised brow my way, a quiet question about how I was, his presence- 

It was all enough to remind me that there wasn’t a reason for me to give in to the stupid urges to be cruel, to be a snotty little bastard. 

I was more than a little curious about what it was. A kind of recklessness I never noticed, or a weird tug I had no idea where it came from. It nagged on the back of my brain, but I chose to ignore it in turn of pretending it wasn’t there, out of embarrassment. Because who the hell did I think I was?! Some Jekyll and Hyde shite? Not here, not in this universe.

It’s also not like I could be mad at them for it when they were so clearly blooming under some healthy adult attention. Harry more than Ron, who was still a little embarrassed about getting in contact with mum, but seemed to enjoy the praises nonetheless. But Harry? Seeing him tear through the packages or happily write about his studies and practice was enough for me not to demand him to write a paragraph for me. 

At least it was all good material to hide behind the shaky walls of the bastardized Occlumency, shoving the feeling and ideas in the corners of my mind. 

Fun fact? 

When in the books Snape said that Occlumency was a dying obscure branch of magic? He meant it.

All that schmuff about the Slytherins knowing Occlumency since infancy, and that's why they were good at politicking and keeping a straight face? It was bullshit. 

I asked Daph - the one who would either bluntly tell me that they couldn’t tell me, or would just teach me if she knew -, and her response was a very clear “what the fuck are you talking about?” 

In other words of course. The girl was too proud to ever swear like a mere commoner.

It seemed they knew what Legilimency was, but Occlumency? Nope.

Not even Blaise, who was the epitome of what I considered “Slytherin”, didn’t really know what it was beside the basic understanding that it was the opposite of Legilliments. 

All of it prompted a long search around the Library only for me to realize why Hermione hadn’t been able to help Harry when he was training under Snivellus. There was shit on the mind magic. 

Nada. 

Absolutely nothing.

It was around that time that I remembered that Snape had said it was an obscure branch of magic and that of course, it wouldn't have any books about it in the damn library. 

So off to The Hoard™ I went. 

I felt a little like I was cheating, finding all the answers I needed in that little pocket of knowledge when the normal way failed me. But beggars can’t be choosers and I mostly stuck to my gut instinct to not mess with some of the books. 

Sure, the room would drop the ones I needed in front of me, and I knew that Legillimens and Occlumency weren’t inherently evil, but the reason it was an obscure branch of magic was that it tethered uncomfortably close with what originated the Imperius curse. 

Mind magic was dangerous, and I didn’t dare even open the ones with too bold titles about dominating minds, or cracking and manipulating them. Not yet, at least. 

Perhaps later, when things got worse, I might revisit them just to know what I’d be dealing with, but in a 12 year old body and a who-knows-how-old mind, the idea of reading such oily material had my stomach churning uncomfortably. 

The reading was dry and shady, no matter how much the authors tried to avoid talking about how it was bordering on dark magic, and on paper, it seemed easy enough, right? 

There were a few ways to build up a solid protection. There was the hardest one, that was basically just don’t think. No thoughts, head empty- clear your mind, always have it cleared and you’ll know when someone is trying to push an idea or trying to know what’s in your head. But who can live like that? Honestly. 

There were a few others, meditation, mostly, compartmentalization, etc. But I was going for the easiest, because baby steps, that’s why. 

It was a little meditation and a lot of imagination. I felt a little like I had read it from ‘Occlumency for dummies’, but it was the only one that felt… right? That worked? 

Still shitty, and it led me down a rabbit hole of piecing together why I had so much trouble with Transfiguration. 

Fucking-

Visualization. 

It was slow work, and it seemed like by the end of the day, after I spent hours thinking as if things were getting put in boxes behind a wall, that I had thought nothing at all, and everything crashed down and spilled, and I panicked with the rush of emotions before taking a deep breath and trying to put it back behind the wall. 

But it was like I couldn’t finish visualizing whatever I wanted as protection. 

I was supposed to imagine it constantly, but not force it. Just… think that there was something protecting my thoughts and memories. 

It got easier! Sure! Like, I had been able to go two whole days instinctively doing it before remembering I was doing it and then losing grip of the walls. 

Like blinking! You do it naturally, but as soon as you remember you should be doing it? Oof.

At least I was getting a very cool façade in my quiet time. 

With Halloween approaching that week, on a heavy class day nonetheless, I kept my wits to myself, chancing any look at Hermione to make sure that despite her self-imposed silent treatment, she wasn’t having any negative interactions with Ron. Not that it’d take long for something to happen with how tight her shoulders were by the start of the week. 

Seeing her stressed out was stressing me out. Honestly, the unhealthy amount of tea and hot chocolate I was drinking had me constantly carrying one of the kitchen’s ugly mugs. 

And complaining about it being ugly all the while, but that was Ron and Harry’s problem.

“Miss McKinnon, if you’d stay for a moment.” I schooled my expression at the Scottish accent, only gently knocking my shoulder with Nev, who had made me company that class, when he made to stay behind before I lightly pushed him in Ron’s direction. 

The redhead nodded at me and gripped both boys’ robes, pulling them out with him as I made my way to the professor, thinking over what I had done that day. 

Other than putting itching powder on Snape’s dragon-hide gloves, nothing much; and I didn’t think he used it yet. 

“Yes, professor?” 

Her face was pinched, lips pressed together tightly as I stared up at her with a raised brow waitingly. Her eyes swiped over me warily, taking in my face, the tightness of my shoulders and my defensive posture before clearing her throat silently. 

“I’ve heard you asked Professor Sprout a few questions if Hogwarts has allowances for students who cannot afford their own materials, and for her help on the matter.” I waited for her to continue silently, raising my other brow at the stretched silence. 

“Yes, I have.” It ended up sounding a little like a question, and I could feel my own irritation rising at the signs that she was getting frustrated. “Ron hasn’t been able to perform well in classes because of his wand, it’s half-broken and from one of his older brothers. It’s dangerous and-”

“Yes, Yes.” She interrupted me sharply, and I felt my eye twitch as my temper rose, pressing my tongue against the front of my teeth and making me breathe slowly to not snap at her. “What I would like to know, is why you did not come with your questions to me, seeing as I am your Head of House.” 

The silence stretched on again, but it was better than the scoff or the sharp laughter I wanted to release. 

Was she fucking serious? Nah, did she really ask me that? 

I pursed my lips to hide the fact that I wanted to laugh at her stern face, looking her up and down quickly to take in and buy me some more time. How should I go about this?

“The truth?” At her sharp nod, I hummed quietly, licking my dry lips and shrugging. “I know you don’t like me, and I don’t trust you to either answer me truthfully, to see that it’s an important matter, or put as much effort as I know Professor Sprout did.” 

She spluttered and looked like I had just slapped her across the face, but I didn’t back down, looking into her eyes unflinchingly even as the color rose from her cheeks.

“I thought you would’ve been hostile or impatient to my questions, as you were when I questioned where Harry got his broom.” Another shrug, though I noted with some amusement that she flinched at my jab. “I didn’t want your aversion to me to get in the way of helping my friend.” 

“I would never-!”

“Yes, but I don’t know that, do I?” I cut her off snidely, pressing my tongue to my teeth again to stop myself from saying something else when she puffed up like a bird. “I apologize,” Morgana, why did it sound like she was ripping out my teeth? “But not for my reasoning.” My chin lifted stubbornly, and I refused to back down when she glared. 

“I would’ve never gotten in the way of helping one of my students, Miss McKinnon.” 

Right, if you say so. 

“Is there anything else you wanted to ask me, ma’am?” 

Her lips twisted again, eyes narrowing down at me. 

“What makes you believe I have any- any aversion to you?” My ‘are you fucking serious? ’ face didn’t seem to amuse her as she flushed angrily again. “Well?”

“Professor, not once have you praised or commented on my spellwork despite the times I’ve perfected a transfiguration before Granger,” I raised a finger when she opened her mouth to interrupt me, lips twitching at her indignant face with the gesture. “And I am twelve, not stupid. You are not the only professor to dislike me or be wary of me, though you and Professor Snape are the ones who show it most. Now, whether that is because I look like my Aunt Marlene and she was real piece of work,” 

Her breath hitched as I was speaking, and she froze, blinking down at me in surprise, but I ignored it in turn of looking at her knowingly. 

“Or because I am a McKinnon and your family had pledged loyalty to mine and you think I’ll somehow use the power to- to do whatever, I do not know. But I do know that you’ve shown you do not care for me, and so, I don’t trust you to have my best interests in mind or that you’d care to help me… Besides, I didn't think you'd have the time, seeing as we didn’t get any introduction from you when we were sorted.” 

Again, she looked like I slapped her across the face, and pissed on her mother’s grave before spitting at her shoes. 

McGonagall surprised me by slowly sitting down, looking at me strangely and in silence instead of screaming or docking points for calling her out. She looked at my face intently, as if studying me while I waited for the explosion that never came. 

“I… see.” 

I was going to be late for DADA, not that I cared much about the class, but still. 

“Anything else, Professor?” She studied me quietly again, shaking her head softly and making me nod. “If that’s all…”

“It is, run along, now, Miss McKinnon.” With a jerky nod, I hurried out, sprinting to my next class to avoid any professors or prefects that could give me detention for being out of class. 

Well, at least now she knows that I know she doesn't like me. 

Quirrell looked at me waitingly when I entered the class, making me grimace at him in a faux-apology.

"I'm sorry, Professor." I blinked dumbly at him, as if I didn't cuss him out in my head constantly and probably loudly enough that he knew how much he disgusted me. "Professor McGonagall kept me a little after class."

"I-I s-s-se-ee." He also sent me a fake smile, and I felt my stomach churning at the sight of it, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck rising at the sharp coldness in his eyes. "I-I f-f-fear I st-t-till n-n-need to g-give y-you d-d-detent-tion, M-Miss-s M-M-M-Mc-c-Kin-non." 

Oh shite. 

Neville, the delight that he was, saved me a seat behind our two friends and smiled sympathetically at my scowl about having detention just when I was done with the two weeks of dealing with dirt under my nails. 

Though I'll admit that the scowl was just a mask to hide the fear of having to be alone with him in detention.

Maybe I could break my arm the day of detention and escape by staying overnight at the Hospital Wing. 

Or not. 

Breaking an arm sounds a little too extreme.

I'd settle for breaking a hand.

★★★

A week later and with no mention of the detention I was supposed to take with Quirrell and I was feeling hopeful that he might’ve forgotten about it, since, you know- He’s busy… plotting… with his… Blood Nazi master… stuck.. In the back of his head…

You know… The usual. 

But it was to my great disappointment (and panic) that I received a note the day before Halloween that I’d be serving detention with him the next day… On Halloween.

Now, I didn’t consider myself a coward, but the thought of being alone in the same room as an angry and plotting Voldemort had me shaking so hard I had to stick my hands under my legs before the boys noticed them. 

Glancing at the High Table, I tried sticking the fear into a box in the back of my mind without much success and quickly took my eyes away from the professors, seeing Snape narrow his eyes at me in suspicion before I reached for my cup of tea. 

I was screwed. 

“You ok, Starflower?” I jumped at Fred’s voice, blinking up at him as he sat by my side, his twin settling across from him and already busying himself with talking to Lee. “You’re looking peaky.” 

Gently slapping away the hand he pressed on my forehead, I sent him a tight smile as he snickered after showing him the note. 

“Just a few weeks ago I was done with my two weeks of detention and now this.” He snickered again, making me roll my eyes and pout behind my mug with him laughing at my plight. “And I don’t like Quirrell.”

“You don’t like any of the Professors.” Ron chimed in from George’s side, rolling his eyes as Harry and I snorted in sync. 

“Not true, I like Flitwick and Sprout… And I like Professor Sinistra a little. Quirrell has his own category of dislike from me. But yeah, the rest can absolutely choke-” A loud cough interrupts me and I look at Neville as he picked on his breakfast, looking pointedly at his food and with his face red. 

A throat clearing behind me had my body locking in panic, eyes wide at Ron, who mirrored me before looking down at his plate and shoveling food into his mouth without care, hiding his flushing face from view as Fred turned his head away from us to press his mouth on his shoulder while Harry shared panicked wide eyes with me. 

He's the only real one. Oh God  

When I slowly looked over my shoulder, I watched McGonagall raise a thin brow at me, sternly looking down her nose at me as I gulped. 

“Miss McKinnon, I’d like to see you in my office after classes.” 

“Y-Yes, Professor.” She stared at me for a few more seconds before nodding sharply and briskly walking to the High Table while I slumped against Harry. "She's going to kill me. It was good while it lasted."

Fred was cackling by my right as Harry patted my arm mockingly; Ron was snickering while Nev was sending me a pitying and nervous smile. 

"I'll keep your notes and tell your mum where to find the body."

"Write me a nice eulogy, Harry."

"Um-hum, the best. I'll ask Granger to check the spelling and if she wants to add anything."

I gasped dramatically under our group's laugh, pressing a hand against my heart and moving to slump against Fred now, looking at Harry's amused face in faux-betrayal while Fred nearly had me in a chokehold, too busy laughing with his brothers and Lee, who had been watching us since McGonagall made her exit.

"But Harry, it's my funeral! You're supposed to say nice things about the dead! You know what-? Nev, you're in charge of writing my eulogy now."

He smiled at me, eyes twinkling with mirth before nodding deeply as if he was doing me a favor.

"Orright', I'll see if the hat can sing it."

"See, Harry James? Nev gets it! " 

"Oi! Why can't I do it?"

I sneered at Ron mockingly, squinting my eyes at him and looking down from my nose in a perfect Malfoy imitation while Fred loosed his grip on me, letting me twist around freely but still keeping me somewhat tucked under his arm.

"Do you even know how to write, Westheby?" 

Harry couldn't handle it as he curled over the table to laugh and the surrounding laughter filled me with joy, even with the looming threats the next day brought. 

Ron cussed me out again, and I had to dodge a muffin mid-laugh, chest warm as I snickered at his fake shudder. 

"Bloody hell, you looked just like him."

"Better him than Pulcey."

Harry tugged on my braid a little, almost hesitantly as if testing his boundaries with how much he could get away. 

It was known by us that while my love language was touching, the way to annoy me was to physically hurt me. 

Roughhousing was a no with me, but they had been slowly finding ways to annoy me that didn't get me actually upset. 

By they I mean the Weasleys. 

Ron found out that he could get away lightly slapping my arms and shoulder, though I'm sure he was close to just smacking me upside the head after seeing Daphne do it once and only receiving an annoyed glare from me; Fred discovered flicking me was the easiest way to have me annoyed and snappish, but they seemed to find moody-me funny, so… yeah. 

George was my favorite, he was the gentle one of the three, and the biggest he did was poke my sensitive sides, which only really had me paying attention, but I digress. 

Harry tugging my hair granted him a glare and a gentle nudge. 

"Don't say that, anyone is better than Malfoy."

"The two of them do look alike, don't they?" Lee chimed in, tilting his head to the side and squinting to look at me as I made a face with his words. 

“Bloody inbred purebloods, I bet we share some blood too,” I grunted, smirking while Ron made gagging noises and Harry snickered. “What are you gagging at? Mine is a mystery, you on the other hand…” 

“Whu?!” 

George laughed at that while Fred smirked and leaned closer from over the table to whisper to his younger brother. 

“Did you forget grandma Cedrella was a Black?” We laughed at the way Ron paled and dramatically dropped his fork. 

“Yeah, and that tosser’s mom was born a Black too. So technically, Ronald, you’re cousins.” 

I never saw Ron as disgusted and affronted as when I pointed that out, and it didn’t take long for one of the prefects to tell us to pipe down with the noise, not that it mattered much with how we were already leaving for class, and it was only Granger’s angrily stomping ahead after glaring our way that let us know who had made the complaint. 

Ron exchanged disgruntled looks with Harry while Neville sent me a tight smile; I didn’t really know his relationship with Hermione, nor did I really remember if they were supposed to be closer and my presence had Nev latching to me instead of the girl, but even I could see that she was getting on everyone’s nerve. 

Heck, even the professors were getting peeved with her not letting others answer in class, cutting in before raising her hand, or with her monstrous essays where she’d go over the assigned lengths, as Snape had tactfully pointed out in front of the whole class, especially when someone would ask a question to a professor and she’d answer it in that condescending tone that mocked you for not knowing about it. 

Don’t even get me started on Pavarti and Lavender. 

Every night it was like toeing into a warzone instead of my room, and it was starting to wear the Prefects down with how much the girl had them butting in to solve shit. 

Funnily enough, the four of us were the only ones to ignore her and therefore avoid confrontations, even if I could see how she was just itching to have a row with Ron or me. 

More with me than with the redhead, but the point stays the same. 

I grunted at the two heavy arms dropping on me; Fred rounded my shoulders and George rested his arm over my head, making a mock of the height difference the same way I did with Harry.

“Still haven’t talked to her, hm?” George hummed, peering down at me with a raised brow that had me feeling surprisingly ashamed. 

“I will, I’m just… waiting.” 

“For…?” His twin drawled from my other side and I shrugged meekly, feeling the sudden urge to skip ahead and avoid their judging eyes. 

“I have a bad feeling for Halloween, alright? I just don’t want to set her off.” 

They shared glanced over my head and I tried to put a lid on the actual shame of how it sounded like to them; I wasn’t afraid of Hermione, but it’s not like I could come out and say why I was waiting for the troll to fuck off before finally going at it with her. 

“Orright’, if you say so.” I made a face at their synced patronizing voices, ribbing them hard and finally skipping ahead to press my side against Neville, who jumped a little at the contact before realizing who it was and smiling up at me. 

Classes were the usual, and besides McGonagall reminding me to find her in her office after classes, it went without a hitch if not a little lighter than usual with Halloween the next day. The professors didn’t assign any homework, and Sprout even used the class to show us the cool dangerous plants instead of having us re-pot Dittany, which was a pain to care for- I had killed enough of them during my detentions to know that despite all the dirt I gathered under my nails, I was no closer of being as good as Neville at Herbology as I was to making friends with Granger. 

Neville and Ron were asked to stay behind by Sprout, hopefully about the wand situations, and Harry decided to wait for them while I had to make my way to McGonagall’s office, dreading every step as I wondered what it was about. 

It probably dawned on her that I insulted her the whole time she interrogated me and now she’d be assigning me more detention. 

Honestly, I used to be an honor student, what happened?! 

I paused in front of her door, biting my cheek and trying to remember if I’d actually done something or if she had heard me expressing my contempt towards the staff and was about to tear me a new one. 

Gathering my Gryffindor guts, I knocked twice sharply, waiting for permission before finally stepping inside. 

McGonagall seemed to have just arrived too and was busying herself with going over whatever was piling her desk; it was filled with- well, everything. 

There were chalices, assignments, buttons, rats, cages, boxes, piles and piles of paper and I was sure the only reason they weren’t toppling over was because of some charm, there were needles and beetles and basically every single item that she used in class. 

For some reason I expected different for her office, having been to Sprout and Flitwick’s. Both also had traces of the class they taught, of course; Sprout was filled with Hufflepuff stuff and plants besides the delicious chocolate chip cookies and comfortable seats while Flitwick was cleaner, in a cool blue and silver instead of bronze like his house colors, and it was one of my favorite places to be, full of pretty and neat charms that Flitwick would delight in teaching me after I was done pretending to ask questions about the class. 

I imagined Snivellus’ office would have the same feeling if I stepped into it. 

It was uncomfortable and cluttered, it didn’t seem to be made in mind that the kids under her care would search for her here and I wasn’t surprised that no-one really came here to vent to McGonagall. I had barely sat on the simple wooden chair and I already wanted to leave. 

Waiting in silence for her to be done with whatever she was doing had me slightly peeved and feeling slighted, she barely acknowledged me arriving and I could feel my scowl setting deeper and deeper the longer the sounds of her quill scratching the paper filled the silence. 

It might’ve been 10 or 5 minutes until she was done, and in terms of keeping someone waiting in front of you, it was pretty bad. 

I wasn’t even offered cookies! And I know she had them! 

Man, fuck McGonagall. 

I didn’t return her tight smile when she finally looked my way, keeping my scowl and closed off posture; arms crossed over my chest and slumped on the uncomfortable chair with an unimpressed face. 

There were another few seconds of tense silence as I waited for her to speak first, watching with sharp eyes the way her eye twitched and her thin lips quivered, opening and closing slightly as if she didn’t know how to start. 

“I’ll be brief, Miss McKinnon.” McGonagall finally spoke, straightening up and crossing her fingers over the table. “I asked you here because I owe you an apology.” 

There was silence as my brows shot up. 

Did I hear that right?

She cleared her throat again, unwavering in her stubbornness of keeping eye contact with me as I finally rightened my posture on the uncomfortable chair. 

“I- I have let the judgment I have of a past student you- you look remarkably alike, to cloud my judgment of you. I apologize for the treatment you’ve received from me, all your actions up until now have been in the best interest of others and I- I failed to recognize it. For that I am sorry.” 

I nodded slowly, studying her flustered face. 

“Alright…” 

“I… I also think you’d be glad to know that I have organized with Professor Sprout to have Weasley and Longbottom pick their new wands this weekend as we already have their guardians’ approval.” She finally looked away, moving to fuss over the stack of papers in a dignified manner as I nodded once more, smiling when McGonagall made eye contact again, even if it was a tad too tight. 

“Thank you, Professor.” McGonagall nodded, clearing her throat reaching for something amidst her mess of a table and extending it to me. 

“Cookies?” 

Now we’re talking.

The boys were already chittering happily on our uncomfortable couch when I arrived still munching on the cookies. Sprout’s were better, but a cookie was a cookie. 

Or a biscuit, I suppose. 

Ron and Neville had bright grins on their faces when I plopped by Neville’s side, waiting for one of them to speak as I raised my brows questioningly. 

“Professor Sprout is taking us for our wands this weekend!” Neville whisper yelled, nearly bouncing on his spot and leaning into me as I smiled, cheeks puffed with the dry biscuit and raising my thumbs happily. 

“Can you believe it?” Ron looked like he was on cloud nine, a happy flush on his cheeks and ears, looking every bit of his 11 years as he should. “Sprout said it took her so long to tell us because Nev’s grams and mum needed a little talking to.” 

“So that means I won’t have to take anyone with me if that thing explodes?” Ron glared at me in a mock of Blaise’s cold sneer, reaching over Neville to yank my hair while Harry laughed and I hissed in pain amidst snickering. “Oi! I’m joking! Bloody hell, trying to make me bald, are you?” 

I reached over Neville the same way, pushing his head away and he grumbled, slapping my hand away as the boy between us ducked his head and raised his arms to defend himself as my redhead friend and I exchanged half-hearted slaps. 

“McKinnon! Ron! No fighting!” 

We snickered at Percy calling for us from one of the nearby tables, exchanging grins when he huffed and pointedly returned to whatever he was writing, muttering under his breath and shaking his head when we finally eased away from each other. 

The four of us spent the afternoon relaxing in a surprising turn of events as the Professors had eased on the assignments in face of Halloween, though at some point I had nodded off against Neville to compensate for Astronomy the night before. 

It was a good idea, after all, who knew if I’d get the sleep that night!

Dinner woke me up with the twins pranking Percy causing myself and quite a few Gryffindors around to spend the rest of the feast warily poking the plates and waiting for explosions after the ordeal, much to their sadistic delight. 

I wondered if Gryffindor had been so low on points in Canon or if that was my work by egging the Twins on. Though I made up for my lost points with Flitwick.

It didn’t take long for the girls to sleep, as I found out that the best days to escape Granger’s notice at night were Tuesdays after Astronomy, or Wednesdays, as she was too tired from not napping at Binns’ class to try to stay up to catch me in the act. 

It was probably a little after midnight when I hauled my trusty messenger bag over my shoulder and snuck out of the dorm, wand in hand and checking for sounds in the dormitories or the older students loitering around. 

Percy was usually one of them as he was probably running thin with his O.W.L.s. 

Honest to Morgana, I was considering slipping him some sleeping potion one of these days. 

“Star?”

I froze at the quiet call for me, glancing over my shoulder warily before sighing in relief at the sight of Harry looking at me in confusion, curled out of view in front of the fireplace. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” Harry sent me an unimpressed look, raising his brows in disbelief and making me purse my lips at his quiet call out. “Shutup.”

I smiled at his snort, quietly approaching him after sending a wistful look at the entrance, pushing him to the side a little to squirm in the chair with him and cover us with the throw blanket on the chair opposite of his. My green-eyed friend allowed me to do so without much fuss, adjusting to give me space before huddling closer to me and resting his head on my bony shoulder as I pressed my cheek on top of his hair. 

We sat in silence, only the crackles of the dying flames filling the air as I waited for him to open up on why he was awake. I had an idea of why, of course. 

Unlike OG Harry, my Harry James was much more knowing about what Halloween meant to him and to the Wizarding World, and the picture he was clutching might be another clue. 

He finally moved, resting the picture on his knee to let me see his parents. 

Mum had gone through Aunt Marlene’s things that she managed to salvage from her apartment and from Fairview, nevermind that she suddenly decided to face one of her fears and step into the Manor she grew up again even after I asked if I’d ever get to see it, but she did, and with it came the unsurprising discovery that Aunt Marlene had been Harry’s Godmother. 

Mum found a bunch of pictures of Harry with his parents when they were in hiding, and there were even some of him and Marlene, he was almost a newborn in those and they were both sweet and silly; it was mostly Aunt Marlene rocking Harry in her arms and crying, or of Harry inside her leather jacket with her big glasses on his tiny face, laughing at whoever was taking the picture while she smiled down at him. 

Harry had been heartbroken when he found out his Godmother had died merely a few months before his parents, but we all knew the reason for him tearing up had been over the pictures of him and his parents. 

The one he was holding was his favorite, as far as I could tell. 

It was the only Christmas he spent with them; James and Lily were both holding Harry between them, swaying gently in their heavily decorated living room. James had reindeer antlers and Lily was wearing a Santa beanie while they had dressed Harry as a little elf. He was laughing, clutching their sweaters, and snuggling into their warmth while his parents basked in each other’s company, lovingly exchanging gazes before Lily dropped a kiss on Harry’s covered head. 

The writing in the back was long and by then we all knew it was James who wrote it, his handwriting was cleaner and fancier, in cursive and he tended to ramble when naming the pictures. 

Harry turned the picture to read James’ words again, and I smiled sadly at it. 

Harry’s first Christmas, 1980. 

Lils dressed him as a lying elf, she says it’s Santa’s helper, who’s this Santa bloke and why would Harry need to help him? He’s a babe, he can’t help anyone! Maybe they’re house elves and muggles don’t know better. 

She told me Santa isn’t real just now and I’m glad, I would’ve hexed him had he come through our chamney!  

We Lily spent the day baking gingerbread cookies with Harry and I helping getting in the way and eating half of them without her looking. In our defense, they were very yummy, as Harry eloquentely expressed when he shoved three in his mouth despite not having proper teeth to chew them. 

It was a good day, a bit quieter without the boys here, but Harry and Lily are enough. 

Our family is enough, even though we missed you and the boys, Lene. 

Merry Christmas!

 

His fingers trailed the ending words, following the fancy loop James had on his ‘F’ on the word ‘ family ’ before turning the picture back around. 

“I never liked Halloween.” He murmured, eyes focused on the moving picture as I hummed quietly. “Back at the Dursleys it was just another day for Dudley to show all the candy I couldn’t have, and Aunt Petunia was always meaner… I thought… I thought this year I’d get to- to eat a lot of candy and… and just enjoy a day free of the Dursleys… But Daph told me how people are going to act and talk to me tomorrow.” 

They were going to thank him. 

We all knew; we’ve been redirecting people when they tried to do it that week, Daph and I were the most successful ones in doing so, either hexing or walking away with Harry. He hadn’t understood at first, but it didn’t take long for him to realize why people were trying to thank him in the corridors and between classes. Harry’s face when it dawned on him… God, it broke my heart. 

“You can take a sick day,” I whispered back, pressing my cheek harder on his head and sighing when he slowly shook it. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Harry James.” 

“I know.” We spent a few more minutes in silence, just looking at the picture even as the fireplace finally went out, leaving us with only the moonlight to light the Common Room. “What were you going to do?” 

“Halloween prank.” Harry backed away slightly at my slow words, quirking an amused smile as I shrugged embarrassedly. “The twins are a few ahead of me, if this one works out I’ll even out the score.” 

He looked at me in contemplation, and I narrowed my eyes when he pursed his lips in thought, nodding sharply and sending me a resolute look. 

“I’ll help you.” 

“Eh?” 

Almost half an hour later and Harry was trailing after me after exhausting me with his arguments and pulling the puppy eyes, grinning wildly and looking around every five seconds, thrilled about being out so late at night but still nervous about getting caught. 

“So what’s the-”

“Sh!” Harry scowled at me but kept silent as we snuck past the entrance into the Great Hall. 

He gasped quietly, looking up in wonder and making me smile softly; the ceiling was charmed to show the stars and the moon closer than we’d be able to see if we went outside, and after curfew, the charmed candles snuffed themselves out. 

It was breathtaking. I had only noticed on my second time trying to prank the professors, not as jittery about being out of bed as I had been when I pranked Snape. 

“Wow.” 

“I know… C’mon, let’s start with the Slytherin table.” The boy still had his eyes glued to the ceiling, but dutifully followed me before finally dropping under the table when I tugged his shirt. 

“What are we doing, again?” 

He sat by my side, squinting at the light from my wand hitting his face as I opened my messager bag to take out the stack of paper and hand him a few, seeing his curious face as I smirked. 

“We’re gluing this under the table. They’re charmed to activate with certain words, I don’t know how to make it have a bigger radius than three meters, so we have to put a bunch of them under the tables.” 

“...And what does it activate?” I shrugged, my grin deepening when he looked at the paper in suspicion. 

“It’s nothing bad, really harmless and it’ll only last two days at most.” 

“Thank God, the week of dung smell the twins pulled off was traumatizing.” Snorting, I shook my head and took one of the papers for myself to demonstrate what to do.

“Flitwick told me to search the sticking charm, it’s pretty simple and there’s not really any wand movement. Watch,” I put the piece of paper on the underside of the table, touching my wand to the paper and dragging over the corners of it while muttering the incantation. “Tenax Lentum.” There was a faint suction noise as the paper easily stuck to the table, no crinkles or chance to take it out immediately in sight. “There. Give it a little space between another paper and go to town.” 

“Flitwick helped you?” 

“He likes to see how I can use charms.” I shrugged with a cheeky grin, patting Harry’s shoulder as he huffed a laugh and shook his head in disbelief. “Start on this side that I’ll work on the other and we meet in the middle.” 

“Yeah, yeah… What’s the spell again?” 

“Harry.” 

Over two hours and a half later and we were done, with Harry grinning like mad despite looking tired and I had to thank him for his help or else I’d only finish it by the time people were waking up. 

I was so happy having Harry helping and bantering with me that I only noticed the damned cat a little too late. 

Usually, I was more alert to someone doing rounds or of the ghosts, but Harry’s presence had me busy snickering and just genuinely enjoying the work done, wondering if that was how the twins felt sharing jokes and ribbings. 

Definitely better than being alone, having someone to share your mischief with.

He stumbled on my back when I froze in panic at Madam Nor-r-ra’s glaring eyes on me, and I swore she fucking smirked at seeing us. It didn’t take long for her to yowl loudly in alarm, making Harry and I look at each other in panic, but it seemed that we were on the same page as we reached for each other’s hands and fucking bolted. 

We didn’t see where we were going, we just moved in the opposite direction of the loud limping stomps from Filch, who was dangerously fast despite his age. I ended up having to throw a shield at the cat when she tried swiping - viciously, I might add - at our ankles to stop us, leaving her spittling and hissing behind as we got out the stairs. 

For all the times I snuck out after curfew without cheating (read: having the Map or the invisibility cloak), only trusting my gut and senses, I had yet to get chased or caught like that, so you can hardly blame me for falling for the Plot Trap. 

Besides, the door was unlocked. 

Harry had pushed me in, promptly turning to press his ear on the door as I froze staring at the absolute monster of a three headed dog. 

I had successfully avoided Harry and Ron finding out about Fluffy, I don’t remember what I changed, how it was supposed to play out with the boys and Hermione stumbling on the dog, but I had. 

It was suspicious how Harry would learn about the dog right on the deadline to see Snape get hurt. 

I didn’t like what it implied.

I didn’t move, afraid to make any sudden movements and cause it to sic on us. The nose from the head in the middle twitched as it caught our scent, and I felt my blood run cold at the other heads also noticing something was wrong. 

The Cerberus wasn’t- Fuck, no Gryffindor guts could save me from the fear running through my veins at it; Fluffly, unlike in the movies, looked vicious. The teeth were huge and sharp, the eyes were mad and it looked mean, already frothing at the mouth.

“I think we lost him.” Harry sighed quietly, and I slowly clutched his shirt, ready to yank him out of the way if needed when Fluffy started to lift their heads up, sniffing at the air before three pairs of eyes snapped our way, lips pulling back to show their teeth and starting to growl so lowly that I felt the room shaking. “Wha-” 

He breathed sharply at the sight of the dog, but I didn’t take my eyes off it to see Harry’s expression, slowly stepping back and blindly searching for the door handle behind me. 

It stood up, growl raising in volume and making me quicken my movement before Harry couldn’t help stumbling back quickly and making it bark like mad, which made both of us scream in fright. I finally moved without care about not aggravating it, seeing as the deed was done, and shoved the door open, pulling Harry with me when it lunged at us. 

“Close it close it close it close it CLOSE IT!” I shrieked, pushing my weight against the door with Harry’s help when one of the heads tried snapping their teeth at us even though we were out, I’m sure the sound of their teeth clicking near our heads would forever haunt me. 

We fell against the door when it finally rattled close and I hissed the locking charm at it, hearing the loud clicking sound of the bolt before holding Harry by my side and dragging him away from the shaking door. 

“What the fu-” His voice cut off into a wheeze when I pulled him by his hand to the stairs, knowing that the commotion had certainly caught someone’s attention and wanting to put as much distance between us and the fucking dog as I could. 

I didn’t stop dragging him until I was waking up the Fat Lady, hissing the password and barely holding myself from flipping her off when she started to complain about us waking her up. 

Harry basically toppled over when I threw him in, legs finally giving out as I dropped to my knees while he turned over to stare up the ceiling in shock. 

“Star…” I made a noise from the back of my throat, huffing out breaths and clutching my sweater, trying to slow my heartbeat before I passed out. “Do- Do all your nightly excursions go this way?” 

There was a moment of silence before a giggle built up my throat when my eyes found his, and soon I was bent over, my forehead pressed on his stomach while trying to smother my cackles and Harry had his hands pressed over his face, shaking in laughter. 

“N-no, it’s just you and your amazing Potter luck.” 

“Ah-h.” We spent a few more moments trying to control our noises before inevitably making eye contact and starting over again. Finally calming down, Harry sat up as I dropped back, my knees bruising from the kneeling position and bothering me. The boy shook his head, finally seeming to understand that we were in actual danger. “This school is crazy .”

“You tell me, Harry James.” 

“Why d’you reckon they’re keeping that thing here?” His eyes were electric, like he couldn’t wait for another adrenaline rush and I internally groaned at it. 

I didn’t remember how he reacted to it originally; from the books, Harry seemed mostly tired and done with getting dragged to the plot, though his strong moral compass didn’t allow him to sit idly if something wrong was happening. 

But I don’t remember him being an adrenaline junkie aside from his flying. 

“Maybe it’s guarding something.” He tilted his head at my words before nodding slowly as if trying to make sense of my words. 

“You know… Did I ever tell you about the package Hagrid took from Gringotts?” I tried remembering if he had before I agreed and admitted to knowing something I wasn’t told. 

“Hm, yeah, I think so? Didn’t you interrogate poor wee Hagrid about the break-in at Gringotts?” His face darkened in a fluster as I snickered, smirking when he huffed annoyedly but nodded haltingly. 

“D’you reckon it has to do with whatever the dog is guarding?” I shrugged, looking at him warily as I stood up, patting my jeans free of dust before extending my hand and helping him up. 

“Probably. Why does it matter, though?” 

“It doesn’t, but aren’t you even a little bit curious about what it is?” 

“Not really, no.” I snorted at his judging eyes, glancing at the clock above the fireplace and seeing that it was way past four. “Look, whatever it is they have that demon keeping safe, I only care about not coming anywhere close to it again. Don‘t you remember how we almost lost our bloody heads just now?” 

Harry rolled his eyes sassily and my lips twitched in a smile, infinitely endeared by his blooming personality as he learned to up his cheek with Blaise, Daphne, and me verbally abusing everyone. 

“Yes, I quite remember you screaming your knickers off, thank you-” I wheezed at that, muffling my laugh in my hand as he sighed morosely. “And I didn’t say anything about going back to it, just… you know…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Harry James.” 

He smiled at me, eyes glinting in fondness. 

“What’s with the Harry James?” 

“It suits you.” I shrugged, peering at him in hesitation before relaxing at his grin widening. 

“I like it.” 

Warmth bloomed on my chest at his beaming smile, and once again I was knocked over with the knowledge of how far I’d go to protect Harry. 

“Good, because I wasn’t going to stop calling you that, anyways.” 

“So thoughtful.”

“Mhm, always and forever for you, Harry James.” 

The words followed quiet snickers as we settled in front of the dead fire, exchanging quips under our breaths and knocking shoulders as we watched the sunrise. 

Looking down at Harry’s smile, I couldn’t help mirroring him as I knew he’d be fine. 

He had us, after all.

Chapter Text

“Should we go up?” Harry asked and I glanced at him, making a noise when he yawned. 

“Maybe. I think everyone’s just about to wake up, anyway.” 

There was a mischievously happy twinkle in Harry’s eyes when he grinned at me, looking weirdly giddy at the prospect of what waited for the students and making me snicker.

“It’s so exciting!” He whispered, and my smile turned soft at his childlike glee. It was rare seeing him like that, as he had been the first weeks of class when faced with all the magic he was now part of. 

It was gratifying to see Harry loosening up in other way that wasn’t anger; to see how well he diverged from what he would’ve been, and to watch him- well, happy . 

“We should get ready, Percy usually wakes up at these ungodly hours.” 

We shared a grin before moving, and I raised a brow at him when he tugged on my sleeve at change of stairs, stopping and looking down at his embarrassed face. 

“Thank you,” for distracting me. For sitting with me. For making me laugh. For including me. Was left unsaid, but I heard it nonetheless.

I watched him shuffle on his feet, averting his eyes from mine before I nodded once, smirking and nudging his shoulder lightly. 

“Always and Forever, Harry James.”

He beamed at me so brightly that it hurt to see, and I tactfully didn’t comment on how wet his eyes looked from behind his glasses. 

“Right, always and forever.” 

I watched him run up his stairs, shaking my head before finally moving to my dorm, seeing that the girls were still asleep when I got inside, their curtains closed and snoring softly. 

Taking the chance to have first bath, I quietly moved around, careful around Lavender as she was the easiest to wake up and had more than once glared at me through her curtains for waking her up in the middle of the night. 

With November right on the corner, the days had started cooling, and I had to keep muttering warming charms on myself to make up for the fact that I was growing taller, or that someone was shrinking my clothes the same way I had been doing to Pucey, but the only people who’d put the time and effort would never do it. 

Fred and George had no qualms about pranking, but they seem to draw the line on damaging other’s belongings, and I do too, with exception of Adrian Pucey, because he can - again - choke. 

By the time I was dressed, Parvati had already woken up and was waiting for her turn on the showers as I dried my hair and tried not to think about how cold the dungeons would get from then on.

“Morning, Parvati.” She quirked a sleepy smile at me, moving to get ready for the day after waving a response. Hermione was stirring when I stepped out to move to the Common Room and wait for the boys, thinking what was the plan for the day. 

Though I was loathe to think of all the shit that’d happen later and had done a great job at finding things to keep my mind busy, I knew I’d have to face the music one way or another. 

First thing, Quirrell. 

Now, he didn’t give detention. Ever. 

Sure, he might’ve docked points once or twice, but I never heard of anyone getting detention with him, either because it didn’t fit his “no backbone snivelling” persona, or because he couldn’t be bothered wasting time when he had his master whispering on his ear. 

So what the hell did it mean that he waited so long to serve me detention on the day of his first attempt to take the stone? 

Better yet, how does he hope to use me in it? 

Is it to actually get inside, or does he hope to place me in the Troll’s way? If so, why? 

I could understand him trying to assassinate Harry, but me? Was it because I was close to the boy, or- Or was it because I was a McKinnon? 

Did… Did he want to finish the job?

A cold shiver ran up my spine at the thought, a pressure behind my eyes as it dawned on me that me being alive might throw a wrench in his future plans and he knew. 

It was public knowledge who killed my aunt and grandparents. I hadn’t understood at first, but Voldemort himself, Travers, and a few other Death Eaters wiped them out. 

After Daphne explained the political and magical hold the McKinnons had on a few of the Death Eaters, it made sense why Voldemort killed them in person. So maybe- maybe he wanted to finish the job.

It wasn’t like how I imagined all those years ago after mum had whispered me the tale of what had happened to the Wizarding world, where I saw myself as this grey agent no one saw changing things, working behind the curtains. 

An unnamed character in the books. 

No, he knew of the threat I could be in the future, and that was a sobering thought.

And to think I had been disrespecting Quirrell as if it wouldn’t have consequences. 

So what would I do about the detention? 

Do I just… not show up and hope that he didn’t try killing me another time? Do I go knowing that it was dangerous, but that I wouldn’t get caught blindsided? 

I didn’t know if I’d be able to fight off whatever he’d do to me. Despite the many defensive and offensive spells I had been learning, I doubted I’d be able to make enough damage on a man who saw war and was probably getting his ideas from such a mastermind of the likes of Voldemort, fuck, he might even be possessed. 

Maybe I’d be able to surprise him enough to get away, but defeating him? A joke. 

And what about the troll? 

I was confident Snape would still stop Quirrell, but what was it that made it work? Was it that Quirrell himself was weaker than Snape, or was it that they had to attend to the Trio when they got in the troll’s way? 

I had already decided to take Hermione out of its way. 

I wasn’t God, there’s no reason for me to knowingly let her be in danger just to- to… what? Have some sort of control over what happens? Make friends? No, I’d help her with that after the troll incident had passed. 

The detention was a huge fucking rock in my way. 

Now, what would I do about it? 

Do I ignore it? Climb it? Smash it to pieces? Hope I don’t get crushed by it?

“What has our firstie so deep in thoughts?” I was startled at the push on my head, looking crossed-eyed to the finger George had used to bring me back to reality before swatting it away. 

“What mischief have you caused, Starflower?” 

A smile threatened to break on my lips at Fred’s gleeful question and the way his eyes were twinkling, much like Blaise’s did whenever I had some piece of gossip to tell him. 

“Oh, you’ll know .” They exchanged excited looks while I tried to calm down from my previous thoughts, glad for their interruption even if I should carry on planning. 

We bickered for a little while, and Lee joined them into making me company while I waited for the three boys, waving at Lavender and Parvati when they walked out hand in hand, chittering and echoing their greetings before moving out the Common Room. 

“I still don’t know how Lee gets away with it while you two bampots keep getting detention.” Said boy laughed loudly at that and with the twins’ put out face, making me snicker when they huffed annoyed breaths. 

“We don’t know how, either.” 

“Sometimes it’s not even our fault!”

Lee smirked at that, shrugging smugly and leaning back as if on a throne. 

“You boys need to learn the art of being underestimated.” We all laughed at that, and I accepted Harry’s hand to stand up once they finally approached with a sleepy Ron. 

Neville smiled, greeting me quietly and falling on my right side once we moved out, leaving the older boys to wait for their other friends. Harry kept throwing excited glances at me from over his shoulder that had Ron narrowing his eyes at us in suspicion. 

“What did you two do?” 

“What? What’re you talking about-” “ We didn’t do nothin- ” 

Neville snorted, shaking his head when I smirked and pressed against his side, nudging him teasingly when Ron turned to Harry, who’d clearly crack first. 

“What did she make you do, Harry? Tell me, mate. I promise I’ll help you.”

“Oi!” They snickered at my protest, but luckily Ron kept us busy making jibes at me, doing a great work of distracting Harry when he noticed how he got tense whenever someone crossed our path. 

The boy pouted when we finally got into the Great Hall, looking around in disappointment while I snorted. 

We moved to our usual seat in the middle of the table where Lavender and Parvati already occupied their spots nearby; Harry, like always, sat by my left while Neville sat across from him with Ron by his side. 

“Is it just me or can you guys smell something pumpky, too?” Neville mused with a grin, making us snort when he pushed three plates of pumpkin pie away so we could pull our usual food closer, though Ron did snatch a slice despite Neville trying to slap his hand away gently. “That’s too sweet for breakfast.”

“No, it isn’t-”

“Slob.” Harry coughed, making Ron frown jokingly at him and Neville smile. 

“That’s too much sugar, Ron.” 

The boy scowled at me, pointedly eating his pie amidst the boys’ snickers and my disapproval. 

“I won’t listen to the girl who bribed my brothers into buying half of Honeydukes!” He spoke through the food, and I snorted when Lavender and Parvati twisted their noses at him while Harry made disgusted noises. 

“That’s different! I won’t eat them in the morning!” Ron rolled his eyes and made mocking faces, earning him a piece of toast thrown his way. “Oi, pass me the- Thanks, mate.” Harry nodded at my words, moving the teapot my way while I passed him the - gag -, pumpkin juice, glancing at my clock and grinning. Just a few more minutes. 

It was a good choice to wait to activate it. 

The Hall was already fuller than normal, everyone chittering excitedly at the new breakfast food and the decor. Some carved pumpkins were already floating above, and I could see some skeletons moving around, as if arranging themselves for a show later on. 

I nudged Harry when the twins and their friends finally arrived, and he raised his brows curiously when I smirked, taking a sip from my tea and checking if all of the Professors had arrived before clearing my throat once Fred finally sat by my right. 

“Happy Halloween, by the way.” The effect was immediate, as soon as the words left my mouth, the were various ‘poofs’ as every single person sitting down or close to any table received a costume. Outraged squawks and laughter filled the room as I snickered at the sight of Ron blinking dazedly, reaching up to the pirate hat and impressive beard he was sporting. 

The twins were gaping at each other, each dressed as matching princesses, though George’s dress and makeup was pink while Fred’s was blue, it didn’t take long for them to cackle loudly, looking around as I patted the top of my head, discovering some type of animal ear, a quick check on what covered my nose and I figured out I was a bunny, looking down at my ridiculous costume and grinning widely at Harry, who was wheezing over the table. 

He was dressed as a pumpkin, with an eye-sore orange puffing onesie and green hair, slamming the table to try to stop the sobbing. 

The laughter only got louder when the attention was brought to the High Table. 

Snape was valiantly trying to take off the Batman mask without much success, face red under it and with his cape snapping dramatically every time he moved. 

McGonagall had her lips pressed together, which looked a little hilarious from under the cat face paint, and she was already sending us a glare that promised hell while Flitwick seemed amazed, grinning like mad while brandishing his tiny sword, feeling for his glorious armour. 

Sprout also seemed pleased with her flower costume, counting the petals around her face in humour. 

But the best of all was Dumbledore, who seemed mighty happy with his fairy costume, patting his beard full of glitter and waving the prop magical wand in interest, showing Madam Pomfrey how it left trails of glitter when he waved it. The wings fluttered behind him, and his robes were a pretty pink colour, full of purple glitter and swirling designs. 

There were many variations. 

Knights, zombies, bandits, pirates, fairies, mummies, muggle witches, animals, plants, nurses, doctors, clowns, explorers, cops, rock stars, hippies, heroes, princesses, angels, devils, Frankstains, vampires, monsters, any type of cheesy muggle costume I could think of. 

Perhaps the best part was that whoever got in late and saw the chaos ended up getting hoped in by saying the magical words, and everyone knew who wished a Happy Halloween by the desperate cries of ‘ NO! ’, which was a nice warning that everyone was getting another piece of costume added to themselves.

The Slytherin table was in an uproar, desperately clawing at themselves trying to rid of the pieces, which only made the Ravenclaws near them laugh. 

Fred and George were looking at me like I hung the moon while I ate between laughs at our Slytherin friends, waving at Blaise when he sent me an amused look from his table, looking very regal in his king attire, even with the vampire cape he received from the last round of some Slytherin wishing them a Happy Halloween. 

Harry high-fived me under the table when he finally saw how Draco was dressed in a mix of frog and clown, red in the face and scowling at his breakfast. 

I made sure none of the costumes weren’t in any way revealing, all long-sleeved and either long dresses or pants, so I wasn’t too worried about making people uncomfortable with showing skin. If the costume changed that. 

I myself could feel my uniform under the jumper, and some students would later spread the word that they disappeared when they entered the loos, only to appear again as soon as their business was done. 

The same could be said about the dormitories.

“Wicked!” The twins laughed, proudly showing their sparkling tiaras to their friends. 

By the end of breakfast, I was sporting a pirate beard under the bunny nose and teeth, blue fairy wings, a prop sword on my waist and a cop hat between the bunny ears. 

The Gryffindor table was the one with most mismatched costumes, seeing as the twins and others kept saying the trigger words to see how many times they could change everyone’s costumes. 

Most students seemed to take it in good humour, seeing as everyone was affected by it; Only a few were walking around costume free and mighty confused by the school population all dressed up oddly. 

It got even better at Flitwick’s class as he was making happy use of his prop sword to point at us, twirling it in a way that showed he had some kind of training with the weapon, which was mindblowing. 

He was in such good humour that he let us pick our partners for class instead of assigning it to us like he usually did.

They all seemed excited to try the levitation spell, and I quickly hauled Ron as my partner, like usual, seeing as he had the hardest time during Charms with his used wand, but maybe the fact that he’d be getting a new one that weekend had him more cheer than usual. 

Harry paired up with Neville on our side, both looking quite thrilled with the prospect of making something fly. 

“Now, don’t forget that nice wrist movement we’ve been practicing!” Professor Flitwick squeaked, using the sword as an example instead of his wand. “Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic word properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said ‘s’ instead of ‘f’ and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.’ 

I snickered at that, grinning when Flitwick winked at me before I turned to help Ron, who was already eagerly waiting for instructions. 

“Alright, you remember, just saying the spell and making the movement doesn’t do much, you have to want it to fly. Have to believe it will.” Ron nodded, clearing his throat and making the movement slowly like I usually corrected him to do, seeing as he liked to move fast. I smirked at him saying the spell wrong, pleased to say the movie line even if no one else would understand. “It’s Levi- o -sa, not Levio- saaa.” 

The boy huffed and sent me a dirty look when Harry snorted, but rolled his eyes and corrected his pronunciation. 

I was still pleasantly surprised at the Slytherins’ influence on him, humble enough to know that his cooling down reactions were Daphne’s work as they were both of the same tempers, and the other girl had gotten too pissed at his reactions to let him carry on how he was. 

Ridiculously easy to anger, much like Harry, though Blaise was trying to work that on him without much success. Ron seemed smug that he had bested Harry on something, and it never failed to annoy the boy when Blaise pointed out that Ron would survive Slytherin, but he wouldn’t. 

It was hilarious. 

Especially when he’d go on a rant how it was a lie because the hat almost placed him with the snakes. It never failed to make the Slytherins laugh. 

“Good job, Mister Weasley! Try making the flick harder, if you’d please.” Flitwick praised from his spot, making the boy flush a pleased red before doing as told, smiling widely at the feather rising.

It was still a bit wonky, but it was floating nonetheless. 

The other two were also doing progress with my help, and I patted my partner on the shoulder proudly mid helping Neville, who only seemed able to make his feather shiver and raise a few inches before losing the hold on the spell. 

“Good, good!” He clapped, nodding at Ron’s smile before raising a brow at me amusedly. “And you, Miss McKinnon?”

“Oh, Professor, you know me.” My friends snorted at my faux-cocky tone, even the girls giggled at my dismissive wave when Flitwick grinned, eyes glinting. 

“Very well, if you’d show us.” 

“But of course, my lord!” I made a show of clearing my throat, rightening my bunny ears and sticking my nose in the air, hearing people laugh. “Wingardium Leviosa.” The feather rose smoothly, hovering steadily when he laughed joyously. “Tis’ too easy, sire!” 

“Show off.” Ron coughed, making me rib him while the other boys snickered at it; 

Flitwick smiled sharply, that glint in his eyes that showed me just how pleased he was with my work. “Of course it is. Perhaps you and I should sit down one of these days to discuss moving up your material, hm? Or maybe a few extra lessons.” 

I shrugged, though there was an exciting tightness in my chest with it. I liked the other classes, of course- But I had gotten the first-year material years ago, and Charms was just… so nice to work with. It made my magic sing.

Transfiguration was getting progressively more challenging, but I didn’t enjoy it as much as Ron did, even if his wand didn’t want to work with him, or Potions, Harry’s baby. 

Maybe it had something to do with how my wand worked better for Charms, or it came with just how much my personality fit what it needed for the course. 

Hell, it might just be because I fucking adored Professor Flitwick! 

Either way, learning more charmwork would be much welcomed.

“I’d like that, Professor.” He nodded and I returned to helping Neville, smiling when - perhaps for the first time -, the boy looked determined rather than embarrassed at not getting something as fast as us and I knew it was the result of getting his own wand that weekend. 

It was easy to ignore Granger’s glares from behind us, probably heard Flitwick and wasn’t happy about it. It was also easy to keep the boys’ attention away from her, and stopping Ron from calling her a- What was it again? A nightmare? 

The rest of the class was spent with me masking how tense I was and happily showing the boys how I could lift things heavier than a feather, telling them how I had first started with books and had nearly shot a quill through the roof when I tried with it after.

I kept a close watch on everyone as we left with Ravenclaw, smiling at Padma when she shyly stepped closer and started asking if I was able to use the spell on heavier things.

She was identical to her twin, but they were both completely different when it came to their personalities and interests. Not that I expected anything different, but I had gotten used to the Weasley twins hiding their differences that it was a little surprising not seeing Padma automatically round my arm how Parvati always did whenever she felt like I spent too much time with the boys and needed some girl talk. 

Neville and Ron had Harry between them and were successfully blocking Michael Corner and his friends from approaching Harry, who was doing his best to pretend he didn’t see their attention on him. 

Lavender and Parvati also slowed down so nobody could be in front of the boys, much to my surprise, but they weren’t half as oblivious as they presented and I had a feeling that Parvati had a little crush on Harry. Not that he’d notice, of course. 

But oh well. 

Hufflepuff was worse than Ravenclaw about it, and I made note to thank Susan Bones for keeping a tight leash on Ernie Macmillan as I would have hexed him if his pompous ass had been able to get past her and Hannah Abbott, and that was a no-no. 

It was an unspoken rule that you don’t mess with the Puff firsties if you want to survive Hogwarts. 

Their whole house was bloody protective of them, it was kind of scary, to be honest. 

Seamus and Dean didn’t seem to understand why we were closing rank, but had decided to follow the rest of us and walk closer than usual. Even Hermione was trailing close. 

It helped keep an eye on her, and the boys were using the opportunity to talk about quidditch. Apparently, Seamus was more of a Ballycastle Bats than a Chudley Cannons, but then again, only Ron was a Chudley Cannons. 

“Honestly, Ron. They haven’t won in ages!” 

“You’re just a Ballycastle because they’re Irish!” He hissed back, making Dean and Harry snicker while the girls rolled their eyes in front of us. 

“No, you little shite , I’m a Ballycastle because they’re good.” Seamus mocked back and we laughed at Ron glaring at him. 

“You’re like Star, she says she’s a Curupiras but when I talk about the Montrose Magpies-”

“Open your fat mouth and I’m telling Wood!” Ron wisely clicked his mouth shut, much to the Gryffs’ amusement. My fellow Scot was just as protective as I was of our Scottish team, one of three of the British and Irish League and the best of it. “And don’t you know they’re the team with the most wins from our league? What do you have to talk about the Magpies? Don’t get bloody gallus, ye?” 

“Oi!” 

I made a childish face at him but smiled when he rolled his eyes and pushed me inside the Greenhouse. 

“What does it even mean? Speak English, woman!” 

“Oh, stuff it, Ronald-”

Last class of the day, then we had some time before the feast. I was supposed to have detention with Quirrell before it, so I would be definitely missing it if he went through with his Troll plan. 

A fucking shame because I saw Flitwick charming bats on the walls and had helped him enchant the pumpkins during lunch break, and I even managed to sneak a few turnips between them, and I wanted to see how it’d look all lit up. 

There was still time before the detention seeing as we didn’t have many classes on the afternoon block on Thursdays. 

“Ron, does your family do Samhain rituals?” He tilted his head at that, looking slightly uncomfortable by Harry and I’s curious attention on him. 

Neville also looked interested, but as usual, he was paying more attention to the sample of whatever plant Sprout handed for him to study after class. 

“Not really? Not that I remember… We carved pumpkins, though.” 

I nodded, smiling and turning to look at Neville, who promptly shook his head. 

“Wanna go find our trio? They might do something too.” Neville looked a tad nervous about that, as he always did when it involved the Slytherins. Something I didn’t really understand, seeing that Blaise rather liked talking about Herbology with the boy just as much as he liked seeing him squirm. 

He muttered something about putting his plant away, but the two boys shrugged and followed me out after waving Neville goodbye. 

“One day he’ll be able to face Daphne. I believe in him. One day.” Ron muttered, earning a laugh from us while we walked outside, where our trio lazed about in a forced move from Theo for his friends to take some bloody sun. 

“Can you blame him? Daph is terrifying.” 

Harry snorted, nodding deeply, “Cheers, mate.” We knocked shoulders, and I took the time to check on him, seeing that he was still wary under the costume, but not as tense and angry as he had been the night before. 

Though he looked tired. Harry did stay up all night doing magic with me, after all, so it was to be expected. 

My friend looked up at me, smiling thankfully and reaching to squeeze my hand before I knocked shoulders with him one last time in order to approach the trio. 

“Oi, you lot!” Daph and Blaise turned first, and I assumed Theo was too busy reading to first react but looked over his shoulder briefly before returning to whatever he was doing. “I’ve got detention before the feast and I don’t doubt I’ll miss it-”

Blaise snorted, smirking up at me and squinting up from the afternoon sun hitting his eyes. “Only you, McKinnon.” 

“Anyways, I won’t have time to do my Samhain ritual-”

“You do rituals?” Daphne interrupted sharply, all of the Slytherins had their surprised faces turned to me, and so did my boys, and I blinked in confusion at it, frowning and shrugging. 

“Not like how you lot do, I bet.”

“Didn’t you grow up muggle?” 

I shrugged again at Blaise’s suspicious glare, looking at Ron when he shifted awkwardly on his feet. 

“Yeah? It’s not- It’s more of a Scots thing than a witch thing… Though mum used to say that we’d do differently if she was one.” They kept silent, waiting for me to go into detail and making me sigh. “I was going to ask if you guys wanted to join me or if you’ll have your own rituals. I’ll just carve a turnip to carry around and leave some food at the door.” 

“...Turnips?” Came Harry’s question.

“They used to grow bigger in Scotland, I think. Or maybe it was easier to find one than a pumpkin, it’s to ward off evil spirits- anyways… wanna come?” 

They exchanged looks before shaking their heads. 

“We’ll have our own circle later… You three can join us… if- if you want… It’ll be after the feast.” Daphne asked hesitantly, looking nervous between the three of us and I beamed. 

“Really? You don’t mind?” 

I blinked at how their postures instantly relaxed, not having noticed just how wound up they had gotten. 

“Er… It’s not… bad is it?” 

“Not… really? Uhm, but only really purebloods practice the old rituals.” Ron answered for the Slytherins, shrugging at Harry’s question before nodding at them. “I don’t know much ‘bout it, mum and dad never really cared for it, but if you don’t mind teaching us…” 

The Slytherins looked pleasantly surprised by it, and I know I didn’t imagine how Blaise gave him his full smile, the one he couldn’t hide when we made him laugh. 

“We’ll meet at the entrance after the Feast, then?” 

Our eyes flitted between them, and I could feel Harry standing tall at their hopeful looks. It was so… unusual.  

As much as Theo was quiet and sweet, and as much as Daphne had a Gryffindor temper, they were Slytherins to boot. Seeing them so unsure, as they had been at the start of our friendship, where Blaise would be a tad more scathing than he really was just to see how far he could push, where Theo wouldn’t sit by our side, only across from us so we’d always be within his sights, how Daphne would keep an icy cool façade, never emoting or showing her true feelings- Well, it was a little heartbreaking. 

Did they think we’d shun them? 

I mean, doing the old rites wasn’t normal, sure, but pretty much every pureblood or half-blood had their own for Samhain. 

Heck, only on our way I had seen Hannah Abbott collecting rocks with a few older Puffs!

Had we given the impression that we wouldn’t be ok with their beliefs?

“Of course, we’ll be here.” Harry’s voice was sure, not giving them any space to doubt that we wanted to be part of something important for them. “We’ll walk out together.”

“Yeah, I’ll try to finish detention fast so you don’t have to wait for me.” 

I felt a stab in my chest at their smiles, a tad shy but happy in a way we’d only see when our Gryffindor honest tendencies caught them by surprise.

Like when Ron had been red with anger when he heard about some upper-years from Ravenclaw talking about Blaise, or whenever we put into words how much we appreciate Daphne teaching us stuff- Hell, Theo gets like that even when we seek him out for company! 

Perhaps I… Maybe, I haven’t been paying them the right amount of attention. 

Certainly not since I began challenging the twins with pranks. 

“Well, if you want to find us, we’ll be by Hagrid’s hut.” 

I ignored their twisted noses, well aware that despite their secret friendly and protective nature, they were still at their cores, a bunch of fucking snobs.

The three of us huddled close on our way to the half-giant, the cold was starting to turn biting, and soon I’d need to break out the Winter cloaks even through the feeling that they might need a lengthening charm with how I was starting to grow taller. 

There was a respectful hush on the field, even through the excited and cheerful groups carving pumpkins, it felt like every group had a bubble around them, like they were the only ones doing their rites, no matter how silly or simple it was.

Hagrid smiled at the sight of us, waving cheerfully and pointing at a few Pumpkins by his huge feet. 

“Hullo’, yer three! Came for sum’ carvin’, didn’t yer?” I beamed back, dragging Harry by his hand the rest of the way while he squawked in surprise and pulled Ron with him by clutching his pirate beard.

“Afternoon, Hagrid! Happy Halloween!” The man smiled down at us kindly, reaching over to pat my shoulder in response, and I had to bend my knees not to break them with his heavy hand. “Do you have turnips, Hagrid?” 

He tilted his huge head to the side consideringly before brightening and nodding excitedly. 

“That I do, lass! A few of yer Scots ask me for one- give me a second, will yer?” The half-giant waved away my appreciative words, smiling at the boys as I felt myself getting excited and a tad nostalgic about the wait. 

“Did you do it with your mum, Star?” Harry asked, watching Ron struggle to roll his pumpkin to one spot with mirth while I snickered at it. 

“Yeah. We’d carve a few and put them by our door with candles, and the best ones mum would sew into a string for us to wear…” I thumbed my ring, unbelievably longing for the woman on the other side of the connection but too upset with the radio silence to reach out again. “We dressed up, of course! It’s to protect us from evil spirits and the Sìth- they’re- mum used to say they were fairies and elves, uh nature spirits… bad ones… And we put on costumes to hide from them…” 

I smiled wistfully at Harry, whose eyes had that touch of longing again, and I didn’t think twice before resting on his side, looking over the hills again while he muttered a quiet “what else?” 

“We’d eat lamb roast with Mrs. Vass and we’d all bake nut bread with her and Mr. Dupret would send up some shortbread if we made Cottage Pie for him… We’d leave a bit of everything by our door for the spirits. Some years when we heard there’d be a bonfire we’d go into town for the festivals to hear the tales of Tam o’Shanter and Sawney Bean-” 

I smirked, already thinking of the boys’ faces when I told them the latter. 

“There’d be apple dunking and other games… Then we’d go home… and, and after midnight we’d blow out the candles from the carved turnips… We’d say goodbye to Aunt Marlene and my grandparents… tell them that we hoped they enjoyed the food, the drinks, and the music. We’d tell the Sídhe that we hoped they also had their share, but that they should go back.” 

By that point Hagrid had already handed us two turnips with a gentle smile, surprisingly respectful of my talk with Harry as we moved closer to Ron, who had already taken a few tools for us from the bench, also quietly paying attention to the rest of my words. 

Much like the other people, it felt like we were in our own magical bubble. My voice though quiet and gentle, almost a hush, seemed to be heard just fine by them; ricocheting in the invisible walls and echoing with the cold wind. 

“That’s nice, Lils.” Came Harry’s soft response, and I sent him a smile before pushing a turnip his way while Ron nodded, equally soft with the atmosphere that had settled between us. “Do you want to say something? It feels… wrong not to.” 

“We-ll. Mum was the one that remembers what to say at the start… I’d just say something after midnight. We’d usually trade scary stories while carving.”

“I can say something?” Ron finally chimed in, face a little red with our attention before clearing his throat when we nodded, putting down our tools and merely holding the vegetables. “N-Now is the season of S-Samhain. It is t-the season of our ancestors,” he began, and I quirked a smile, my voice joining his as his words refreshed my memory. 

“-of our glorious dead, of those who have fallen and crossed over the veil from his world to the next.” The three of us were smiling, Harry with giddiness at being a part of it even if he didn’t know the words, and Ron for not speaking alone. “This is a time for us to honor them and pay tribute.” 

Ron tilted his head a little, scrunching his face as if trying to remember the rest as I shrugged. 

“That’s all I remember. Mum didn’t let me light the candles and say the rest of it save it for snuffing them out. Said I was still too young to do it, and that she’d let me once I was out of Hogwarts and my magic was in control. Scared I’d summon something, she was.” They snickered and the air cleared out of the odd stirring of magic, and I felt it brushing away from us with the wind.

Though the strong smell of earth, fresh red apples, and smoke lingered for a little longer. None of us commented on it, but Harry took a few hesitant deep breaths. 

“Now,” I smiled evilly, starting to carve while they did the same. Ron smartly banished the insides of his pumpkin, probably with a spell he’d seen his mother do more than once. “who wants to hear the terrible tale of Sawney Bean?” 

They exchanged wary glances before returning their attention to me while doing their work. 

And so I did, grinning at every disgusted noise and pale face, telling them about Sawney Bean and his cannibalistic inbred clan. Making voices and sounds just like the mummers in Edinburgh used to do at the fairs, cackling at every startle and face they made. 

“...And as he bled out in the square, he screamed to them, ‘it isn’t over, it will never be over!’ ... Some say that they still haunt the town and that parts of their victims still wash  the shores to this day.” 

Ron scowled at me, trying to look tough even through his pale and green complexion while Harry looked downright disgusted. 

“But it’s all a lie, innit? I mean, it wasn’t real, was it?” I kept silent, a slow grimace forming on my face as his own fell and he repeated again, though more quietly. “Wasn’t it?” 

“The muggles today think it’s just folklore, but we know it’s real.” They gasped and gagged in disgust as I nodded in agreement. “The real story is that Black Agnes Douglas was the granddaughter of a squib from a branch of the Black family that was left to die in England, but some merchants found him and took him to Scotland.

Her parents didn’t accept that she was a witch, so when she finished Hogwarts they told her to either leave or get burned. Apparently, she was into the Dark Arts.”

I shuddered at that. Part of me felt bad for her, the other part read what she did and remembered just how she should’ve been put down years before. 

“Anyways. Sawney was a wizard too, but he never went to Hogwarts, and with the wars and witch trials he didn’t want to risk anything. Though really, he was nearly a squib, to be honest.” I started carving the face carefully, knowing they were paying attention to my words even if I was concentrating on my turnip. “Err- They met when they were both leaving the village and she taught him a Dark Ritual when Sawney admitted that he didn’t get any schooling, because of course that’s what she’d teach him.

Uh, then… all that happened. They did eat and rob the muggles they came across, but kept to their creepy cave-”

“Why?” 

“Who knows? They were both evil, that’s why! The Black madness probably took root in Agnes earlier with her going into the dark arts. And I’d go mad too if my home was a cave and my only company were my siblings that I had children with.” We gagged in sync and I flapped a hand at them to continue the story.

“The books I read said that the cave was warded, so no one found it for about 25 years. I mean, the muggles did, but the muggle-repellent wards made them believe nothing human lived in it.

Um… They contributed a lot to the innocent hanging and burning of the muggles others thought were witches. Because the people couldn’t find who was responsible for all the disappearances and robbing, so they started blaming each other.” 

“How were they found, then?” Harry finally asked, and I sent him a droll look. 

“I’m getting there, calm down.” He huffed while Ron snickered, getting a little of his color back as I spoke in a more lecture tone instead of trying to scare the crap out of them. “With so many concentrated burnings and trials, it got the attention of a few wizarding Scottish clans. The McKinnons included- It’s how I found out the tale was true, by the way. Daph set everything with the McKinnon name aside for me a few weeks ago- Anyways! One of the Clans found them, broke the wards, and set up for one of them to tip the muggles off. 

Er, they tried saving the children, but- well, they were all product of incest and dark magic, ya’know? The books said they were barely human. Too mad.” 

All of us grimaced in disgust at that. 

Really, so fucking messed up. 

“I think it was the McLaggens that set up wards for them not to apparate. All the Clans agreed that the muggles earned taking their revenge whatever way they wanted. Even today the cave has traces of dark magic, and I’m pretty sure a few of their children and grandchildren decided to stick around as ghosts.” 

“Like the ones from here?” 

“Yeah, but muggles can’t see them, so…” I shrugged at Harry again, smiling down at my turnip and setting it on the ground to wait for them to finish. “Want to hear about Tam o’Shanter, now?” 

“Will it make me want to gag?”

I laughed at that, trying to stifle it behind my hand while Harry smiled at me dryly and Ron laughed into his pumpkin and beard. 

“Nay, nay, this one is more fun, I promise, mate.” 

“Aight then. But if I don’t laugh you can’t tell us any more tales! I’m bloody traumatized, is what I am!” 

“Right you are, mate.” Ron agreed as I rolled my eyes, snorting and huffing a laughter while looking around to the rest of the students. The grounds had filled a little more, and in the distance, I could see more people collecting some rocks by the black lake; barefooted and stuffing them in their pockets. “Don’t even know if I have the stomach for the feast after that!”

“You always have the stomach for it, Ronald.” 

Harry snickered and I grinned when he flipped me off, dodging the pumpkin guts he threw my way. 

“Get on with it, then!” 

“Oright’ Orright’!” I grinned, crossing my legs and flicking my wand from its place in order to put a little flame inside my carved turnip. 

I delighted in their laughs over Tam, the drunk farmer who one Samhain night on his drunken way home stumbled upon a witch festival, and instead of leaving or running away at the sight of magic and dancing, got horny over a witches’ robes and catcalled her, only to have to run away lest they caught him and beat him up. 

Mum loved telling me that one, starting it somberly and dramatically, saying how the festival was dark and full of knives and odd things, only to slow down when saying that Tam shouted something at the devils, giving a dramatic pause before she’d scream joyously “weel done, cutty-sark!”. It used to crack me up- still did, to be honest. 

The thought of a drunk muggle pissing off a witch over her short robes and then getting the fright of his life when they all decide to chase him away, shrieking hell and promising pain for his disrespect never failed to have me in stitches.

Harry scooched closer once he finished his carving, looking curiously at my wand movement while I tried valiantly changing the colors of my flame. I wanted pink, but I’d settle for the coral it was flickering. 

“Do it for me too?” 

It was such an innocent question, but for some reason, it squeezed my heart something fierce. 

Maybe it was how utterly adorable Harry looked in the Pumpkin costume, even with the other mismatched pieces, or how his eyes held a childish innocence, but I smiled widely and silently wondered if having a younger brother felt that way. 

“Sure thing, Harry James.” He blinked a few times before beaming at me and pushing his turnip my way, still with that glint in his eyes when faced with visual magic. Ron also moved closer, rolling his pumpkin next so I’d do the same to his. 

They ‘oooh-ed’ and ‘aaww-ed’ quietly when the bellflames settled in their respective carved vegetables, curiously feeling how they didn’t produce any heat before waiting quietly when I gently held my turnip and closed my eyes. 

“For Marlene McKinnon, Eilidh McKinnon, Duncan McKinnon, Lily Potter, and James Potter. We remember you and want you to know you are honored. You are remembered.” 

When I opened my eyes, Harry’s bottom lip was trembling and his eyes were shining with tears before he took a deep breath and closed them, clutching his lit turnip and whispering into the fire. 

“For L-Lily Potter and Ja- James P-Potter, and Marlene McKinnon. We remember you and want you to know you are honored. You are remembered.” Ron awkwardly patted his shoulder before putting one hand on his pumpkin. 

“For Lily Potter, James Potter, Marlene McKinnon, Gideon Prewett, and Fabian Prewett. We remember you and want you to know you are honored. You are remembered.” 

“Today we memorialize you, whoever you may have been in life, today, now, in death, you are ours as you watch from the other side, at least for a little while.” 

“We remember you and want you to know you are honored. You are remembered.” 

The words once again drifted with the wind, and I felt my eyes prickle with tears at it. 

It didn’t usually go like that when I did it with mum. 

Was it because of Hogwarts and its magic grounds? 

A mix of scents filled my nose, jasmines, tobacco, lemon tarts, lavender, and mint, a pressure on my shoulders and I bit my lip not to cry out in order to push my shoulder on Harry’s, who had a hand over his mouth to stifle his cries.

Ron was on his other side, not as affected as Harry or I, but blinking quickly at whatever we were feeling. 

I don’t know how long we spent in silence, just trying to gather ourselves until Harry finally sniffled quietly. 

“W-what was that?” Neither of us had an answer for that, and he seemed to accept that, only nodding and wiping his face embarrassedly. “Y-You’re going to be late for your detention, Star.” 

I twisted my nose, feeling my heart thumping loudly in my chest at the reminder of what I could no longer stall or distract myself from. 

Gulping, I nodded and put on a brave face, clutching my turnip tightly. 

“You’re right.” The spell broke once I rose to my feet, and the other people’s chatter reached us like a background buzz. “Do me a favor and keep an eye on Granger during the feast, alright? I got a bad feeling today.” 

They shared a curious look, brows raised at my words before nodding slowly. 

“If you’re late for the feast, we’ll wait for you by the doors.” 

“Yeah, yeah… See you two later.” 

No more stalling. 

They chose to stay and chat with Hagrid, who waved at me when I passed by. 

“Please, please, please, watch over me, please, please, please-” I whispered into the turnip once I got inside the castle, pleading quietly again before taking a deep breath and shoving it into my costume, checking that the fire really won’t burn me and looking up the stairs in worry. 

Fuck. Fuck. 

I felt like I was about to throw up. 

Really.

My mouth was filled with saliva and my hands were clammy; my vision was already darkening at the edges and I seriously considered breaking a hand to avoid it, but what's to say he won’t push it for another day? And what if he’s feeling angrier that Snape got in his way and took it out on me? 

I knew about the troll, if I was placed in its path, save for an imperious - something I didn’t know I’d be able to throw off -, I knew I could at least get out of its way. 

Quirrell in canon had been pretty tame when he tried assassinating Harry. A jinxed broom when there were teachers present that would be able to cast a cushioning charm, and even then, it was probably a spur-of-the-moment idea since there were no other attempts after that. 

It might’ve just been over the opportunity.

Everybody knew I’d be with him, so what could he do? Quirrelmort himself? Realistically, nothing if he wanted to keep a low profile. 

Swallowing the bile, I made my way to his classroom, careful with my steps, considering I was very close to a nervous collapse and I didn’t want to tumble down the stairs. 

A knock and I clenched my teeth, gathering my Gryffindor courage and feeling it settle on my shoulders; my back straightening and my face cooling, the weak occlumency walls hardening just a tidbit more, aiding in hiding the freezing fear while I waited for the door to open. 

I didn’t look into his eyes when it did, bringing with it the faint stench of decay under all the overpowering smell of garlic and something sweet, though I noticed a few things. 

First, he had no costume as in the past weeks he’d rarely show up at breakfast, so he escaped the costume pranks; 

Second, he looked rough.  

I didn’t need to look into his eyes to see that they were sunken, his robes hung awkwardly on his shoulders, as if they once filled nicely but now were too baggy and draped weirdly. 

Lastly, there was a faint glimmer around his face, and when I double-checked it, the sullenness wasn’t there anymore. 

Either beauty charms, glamours, or something stronger. 

“Ah, Miss McKinnon. If you’d enter, please.” 

Shit.

Chapter Text

“Sorry?”

Of all the things I imagined for detention, this wasn’t one of them.

“I’d like you to help me grade assignments, Miss McKinnon.”

Who am I talking to?

Is it Quirrell but he forgot he has to stutter, or is it Riddle using him as meatsuit? How does it work? Fuck, is this a test? A powerplay to tell me that he knows that I know he’s an odd one?

And why the fuck is this what he (they??) had in mind when carefully waiting for today to assign my detention?

Fucking Slytherins.

I made sure not to give him my back, keeping him at least in my peripherals and waiting for an attack, eyeing his hands when he smoothly walked to his desk after placing a stack of papers on one of the students tables at the front, but with enough distance that the smell of garlic wouldn’t be as pungent as if he had placed me next to him.

“Professor Flitwick sings you praises, and I have taken notice how easily you master the spells from my class.” He spoke smoothly, tone dripping caramel as he watched me sit slowly, and once more I wondered if this wasn’t Riddle using the meatsuit. Quirrell wasn’t that charming, and he definitely wasn’t observant enough to realize I was either doing other things during his class, or quickly mastering the silly spells. No, no. That was all the thing behind his head.

And I genuinely believe that, this isn’t me understimating him, just an observation of who as a person he was and in what position he was.

Afterall, why would he pay attention to me when he had his freaky mission to complete? I doubt Quirrell would pay attention to a single girl when he had to worry about pleasing Voldemort and dodging Snape.

“They’re Charms. I’m good at Charms.” Came my clipped reply, and he hummed nicely, as if saying ‘but of course you are, dear.’, it made my skin crawl and I took notice how confidently he sat down, feeling his sharp attention on me despite the fact he was already going through the assignments.

I worked fast, barely noticing that they were from the third years and only realizing when I came across George’s handwriting. It made me pause, and when I discreetly looked at him, I could see his satisfaction about tripping me up like he had.

“Do let me know once you’re done, Miss McKinnon.” Pressing my lips together, I harriedly tried to come up with an solution.

Would he let me go if I finished quicker?

Did he think he’d succeed in taking the stone today, and just wanted to assess the threat before booking it?

Am I reading too much into it?

He’s a Slytherin - Tom Riddle, that is -, so thinking about Blaise if he was Quirrellmort, would Blaise try something when he wasn’t completely sure he could get away with it?

Knowing the boy, no.

Blaise woudn’t risk it. He would use the troll opportunity if he had a chance, of course, but he wouldn’t do anything that could be traced back to himself.

But then again, Blaise was of sound mind.

Deciding that I’d rather finish it faster, I returned my full attention to the assignments, hoping that this was just a weird power play to check how much of a threat I might be in the future instead of ploy to outright murder me.

Hell, I might even just be his alibi.

I chanced a look at outside, seeing through tainted windows that the skies were turning purple and darkening.

As much as I hoped for, it wasn’t easy to ignore him. Not when he had such pointed attention on me, and not when his presence seemed to swell and grow, stiffling the classroom in such way that I felt that if I were to take anything other than shallow breaths, I’d choke on the thickness of the air.

The hair on the back of my neck was raised and my hands were cold; nearly clammy and more than once I had to slow down the quill as to not make any more of a mess than the one caused by my shaking hand.

“How is Mr. Potter today?”

Snap!

My face blanked, and I looked down at the broken quill in my hand, jaw clenched so tightly my teeth and head hurt with how hard I was grinding them.

How long has it been since I’ve broken a quill? Before Hogwarts, perhaps. When I was still learning how much pressure I could get away with it before breaking the feather or ripping the paper.

Working my jaw, I flicked my wand out and tried to reign in my temper and disgust at the- the thing’s audacity on asking about my Harry James on this day. On the tenth anniversary of his parent’s murder.

“Scourgify.” The blotches of ink disappeared under the charm, and I gave a sharp knock on my Occlumency walls once I pushed my feelings to the other side.

I slowly looked up after placing the broken quill down, looking to a point above Quirrell’s shoulder.

“What?” Came my sharp question, tilting my head and carefully putting my wand away before I was tempted to use it on the parasite in front of me.

“Mr. Potter. How does he fair today? I’m sure he’s received his share of congratulations at his feat from 10 years ago.” His words were crisp, a warning cold edge for me to watch my mouth despite how sympathetic he sounded.

I bit my tongue. Hard.

Hard enough that there was a taste of copper before I swallowed and bared my teeth in a mock of a smile. It pulled strangely on my face, and I could feel my magic pressing back at his, not yielding to it but not lashing out yet.

“He’s rather well, all things considered, Professor.” A tense silence, and my nostrils flared with the sheer weight of the thing’s magic, for all that it was a weak thing, more alike Harry’s than I was comfortable to admit, it felt different. Cold and sharp, decaying and rotten.

Like oil you can’t wash off, while Harry’s always felt like a breeze. Tight and perhaps a bit defensive, but breezy and light. Like once of those leaves that recoil when you touch, but were content to sway in the wind if left alone.

Beads of sweat were beginning to collect on my forehead, and part of me wondered how we’d deal with the aftermath of such blatant… battle of wills? Prick sizing competition? Either way, I asked myself if he’d pretend it never happened, that it hadn’t caused his glamours to falter slightly at the strain the parasite was putting on his meat suit.

He hummed, as if pleased that the boy he orphaned was doing alright.

It disgusted me, and I felt the fear disappearing under my rage. I was tempted to say something else, so rub in his face how pathetic I thought of him, how it hadn’t been Harry that destroyed him, but Lily fucking Potter.

The muggleborn mother who thrice defied him, who proved how much she was worth of her magic, even if it angered me she had to die for it. But by Morgana, how I wanted to say it.

I almost did too.

But then my pocket weightened and warmed uncomfortably, and I snapped my attention to it, checking that my robes and costume weren’t on fire as I stared quietly at the glaring turnip, biting my tongue once the smells of jasmines, lavender and mint reached me, chasing away the scent of garlic for a moment and clearing my mind of hatred.

Alright. Easy does it.

Swallowing, I smiled tightly his way before returning my attention to the assignments and finishing the last grading.

“I’m done, sir.”

Quirrell hummed again, and I heard a change of tone, his voice lowered mid hum. It was an uncomfortably pleasant sound, and I was reminded that Tom Riddle had been a charming man once (I had seen a picture of him in the trophy room, he had been disgustingly handsome), and it was bleeding into Quirrell at the moment, which clashed horribly with the Professor.

“Quick as expected. I see Flitwick hasn’t lied about your capability, Miss McKinnon.”

The weight of the turnip was a reminder not to bite back at him for daring speaking about Flitwick.

It was an uncomfortable reminder of everything I chose to ignore, his presence in the castle, near the people I thought dear, Pettigrew’s. How Sirius Black was inocent and still in Azkaban, that there was a goddamned Basilisk in the castle, that there were in total three pieces of Voldemort within the walls-

Pretending Scabbers wasn’t an animagus was easy. Ron had quickly noticed how tense I’d become in its presence, and would more often than not hide Pettigrew away, either in his pocket or leave the rat in their dormitory where I could forget about his existence, and whenever I did see the rat, Wormtail made sure to quickly hide from me.

Perhaps he noticed my dislike for him and had enough sense to scatter when I was around.

Maybe it had to do with how I once hesitated for a bit too long before taking him to the boys’ dormitory when I found him lounging on the common room.

But can you blame me?

The fuck was he doing near the seventh years? I remember I had been rushing for my prank book to check on a charm when I noticed the fat thing relaxing near some of the older students. I hadn’t thought before stomping their way and clutching the rat in a tight grip despite its squeaks.

The seventh years barely noticed, so lost in their studies as they were.

I had stopped by the stairs, looking coldly at the squirming and scratching thing, wondering if maybe- maybe I should just kill it.

No Pettigrew, technically, no Voldemort rising in our fourth year.

If not kill it, then at least hand it over to Flitwick, as he would be able to fight Pettigrew if needed be before the Aurors arrived and I trusted the Professor.

But then I remembered something about how Barty Crouch Jr. died. Kissed by a dementor by the Minister’s command right under McGonagall’s nose.

What were the chances that Pettigrew would be silently taken care of, and Sirius would remain in Azkaban?

My next moves had been stilted and slow before I finally decided to go up the boys’ dorm, leaving it on Ron’s bed and baring my teeth at its shaking form in a sneer.

“Stay away.”

Was my only command, and it had dutifully followed it for the next months.

Part of me recognized the danger he was.

He killed 12 people just to frame Sirius Black, let alone what he had done in his time as a Death Eater, even if he hadn’t been bigoted and had aligned himself with Voldemort over Self-Preservation.

A little voice in my head reminded me that he was dangerous. That very little stopped him from finding one of us alone to quietly kill us, if it meant he’d survive another day, but then a bigger, more reckless part overpowered it by thinking of how sniveling he was.

The same way it did with Quirrell.

Seeing how he was assessing me now, that loud voice that told me to mock the turbant and fake stutter was for once silent.

Regretful.

Especially once he smiled coldly and opened his mouth again.

“It’s a good thing I told Filch that he should leave the mess in one of the corridors for you to clean, Miss McKinnon.” I didn’t need to look into his eyes to see the strange gleam, and I had an idea what bloody corridor was. “I’m sure you’ll finish it before the Feast is over.”

Now that was just petty.

He didn’t even finish his own fucking work, just signed for me to follow him, and my shoulders tensed both when he walked by my table and when he gave me his back.

Because unlike when in class, I couldn’t feel eyes on me.

It was unsettling.

But it also a hint that somehow Voldemort had just enough strength for this one feat of talking through Quirrel, because let me tell you, he was not looking good.

His walk seemed to shift between distraughtfully confident to tired, a sway that made him seem like he was close to collapsing.

I made no move to catch him whenever he swayed. In fact, if he did pass out, I’d make sure to walk over the back of his head, to crush it under the white boots, then backtrack and sink his fucking lungs in-

Letting out a sharp breath from my nose, I tried waving away the twinge of sharp and cold fury that eventually crept up on me when I dwelled too long on dark thoughts. If he felt the pressure around us loosening, then he didn’t as much as twitch at it.

It wasn’t a short trip with his slow and unsteady pace, especially with how we were on our way to the dungeons.

I had been half-tempted to kick him down the stairs. Multiple times.

But then I’d focus on the weight and warmth of my turnip and I’d distract myself with how silly it’d look for Snape to catch Quirrell whilst costumed as Batman and it was enough for my mind to partially drift while I prepared myself to fuck off at any sight or smell of the troll.

It helped to also go over what I knew of trolls, and how stupidly lucky the original golden trio had been to survive the encouter of a mature one as children.

I doubt that even I’d be able to take care of one with all the studying and training.

When we finally stopped, we came across a dirty corridor. The walls and floors seemed to be bearing the results of a smelly prank, or a messed up potion. Yellow and green slime stuck to the stones, and I was sure some parts of it were bubbling and moving- maybe even hissing.

My nose crinkled and I glared at Quirrellmort when he swayed around to look at me, smiling coldly and extending his hand.

“Your wand, Miss McKinnon, if you please.”

…What?

“Excuse me?” My eyes narrowed, and I gripped my wand through my costume, feeling the cold dread creeping up my spine at his cruel smile.

“Well, after seeing such prowess with cleaning and repairing charms, you can’t expect me to allow you the tool to ease your detention, can you?” My breath hitched, and I could feel my hands shaking when his smile widened, showing too many teeth for me to be comfortable with. “The wand. Now, Miss McKinnon.”

We stared at each other for what seemed like hours, and I used the time to wonder if I could confund him and make an escape. Something told me I wouldn’t.

I couldn’t hide the shaking in my hands when I extended my wand his way, for once wishing I wasn’t wearing the silly bunny monstrosity costume.

The idea had merit- It was a good attempt at lightening things up and distracting myself to what would happen that day, but face to face with something that could harm me, with… him, I cursed myself for the stupid idea.

I knew the trio would possibly be in dangers and here I was pranking people. Morgana above, how stupid.

“Good.” He purred, and a bolt of revulsion shot down my spine, cold sweat dripping with it as he caressed my wand like some creepy kid’s movie villain. I wanted to rip the wand from his tarnished hands, wanted to claw at him, make him bleed for daring putting his hands on my wand. “You shall not leave until you are done, and I will know if you do.”

No response came from me as I stared ahead, at a spot over his shoulder. I didn’t give him my back after I saw Quirrell’s face pulling tightly, a mix of fury he tried to hide behind a smile before he returned the way he came, not saying anything as I circled around him to keep him in my vision.

The breath rushed back to me in a snap once the sound of his swaying gait stopped echoing, and I nearly fell to my knees when the weight of his presence left, knees buckling so hard I had to find support by holding onto the wall, mouth filling with saliva as I almost threw up.

It took me an embarrassing long while to recover and I wondered how nobody had passed through in that time.

I considered leaving, it was not as if he looked like he’d have the strength to return and watch, but whenever I tried turning to the corridor, my legs froze, as if someone had injected me with liquid ice, my knees wobbled as if they were made of jelly.

What did he do to me?

My heart was thudding at my chest and I felt nauseated.

When had he cursed me? How?

God.

God!

I wobbled to the bucket, falling to my knees and shakily reaching for the old brush. I could not feel the costume in my skin- it wasn’t real after all, a mere conjuration that would disappear in two days time.

My arms seemed to work on their own, and the panic set in.

I wasn’t imperiosed, I read about it, this didn’t feel like I was being mind controlled, like I was on cloud-nine and so content to do what I was cursed to, no- This- This felt worst.

My movements were jerky, but I didn’t feel tense, I didn’t feel disjointed from my on body.

It wasn’t like I had a chance to fight it, but that my body was jelly, that it was light and moving on it’s own.

Like a weightless poppet.

God, no, no, no, no, no, no-

I was able to look at the far window with a jerk of my head, and the panic of seeing the sky darkening had me nearly emptying my stomach right there with whatever I was scrubbing. There were bloody blisters on my hand when my hand slipped, when I trying standing and only ended up stumbling and changing the grip, my knuckles brushing against the stone.

My teeth were clenched, and I willed my tears not to fall, even as the darkness engulfed the corridor and the torches lit up, even as my knees bruised and my fingers bled, even as I heard steps approaching and stopping behind me.

“Do you think this was funny?!”

What. The. Fuck.

Fucking- It just had to be this annoying little- God fucking DAMNIT!

“Walk away, Granger.” I hissed, feeling my heart beat violently in my chest. Why was she here? Is it time for the Troll already? No, there’s no stink of one, and the Feast hasn’t started yet- Fuck, I told them to keep an eye on her! “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Look at me when you’re talking!” My teeth were clenched so hard a headache was forming, my breaths were coming out in huffs as I wondered what I could say to just make her fuck off. “You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you? With your- your friends, and, and- your grades, and your stupid pranks! like you’re so cool-”

God, I do not have time for this!

“Shut up.” She ignored my snarl, and I could see her shadow moving back and forth, could hear her passing as her voice got shriller and tighter, the fury bubbling up from my chest at the memories of all the snubs, of all the screaming and scheming to get me in trouble, of how she wouldn’t just let me fucking be. Or maybe it was the burning hot turnip in my robes.

“-And nobody sees that you’re just- just a-”

“Just a what, Granger?” I whipped around, my grip on the brush was painful as I stomped off my kness, my ears ringing in fury as I finally turned to look at her angry face, a sneer on my own at the sight of her bared teeth. “Huh? Since you’ve got such a big fat mouth to tattle to anyone who’ll listen, why don’t you say it to my face? Go on!” Her hands were shaking, and my vision was darkening at the edges, anger gripping my insides as I stomped her way, angrily throwing the brush to the side and delighting in her stepping back in fear. “Admit it, admit that you’re just a jealous little chit, that you can’t bear to see someone else succeeding, that you can’t cope not being the smartest person in the room, for once! Say it. SAY IT!”

“SHUT UP!” She exploded, her hair was frizzy and crackling with magic, and the only thing I could think about was- good. Say it to my fucking face, coward. “I’M NOT JEALOUS OF THE LIKES OF YOU! WITH YOUR DISRESPECT AND ALL THE BREAKING THE RULES! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO WORK HARD AND NOT GET RECOGNITION! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE DIFFERENT-”

“I DON’T KNOW? What do you think I do? You think I didn’t faced shit before Hogwarts?! LOOK AT ME! DO YOU THINK THEY DIDN’T CALL ME FREAK?! THAT THEY TALK ABOUT MY EYES AND MY HAIR?! YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS TO HEAR ABOUT MY MOTHER UNDER THEIR BREATHS?! YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL! YOU DON’T GET TO ACT LIKE YOU’RE NOT ALONE OVER YOUR OWN CHOICES!”

“WHAT CHOICES?!”

“What-” I took a deep breath, for once thanking Quirrell for taking my wand away as I sneered down at Granger, disdain dripping from my words. “I tried being your friend. I offered olive branch after olive branch, but you’re too much of a self-centered annoying cunt to accept it-”

She choked a gasp, here eyes filling with tears and I had a moment to feel bad, to remember that she was a child, but then she raised her chin and twisted her lips just so and the anger returned.

“And you’re a bully! You’re a cruel empty headed girl!”

“Am I?” I sneered, teeth bared in disgust. “Who have I been bullying, huh? You? The girl who’s had it out for me since the beginning? Who made sure no-one felt comfortable in our own dorm? The girl who makes everyone around her miserable because she doesn’t have any friends?” My mocking cut deep, I could tell, but it was all slipping from my lips, all the anger and the frustration from listening quietly. “You? Who’s self-centered and arrogant enough to believe that she’s the only one who went through struggle and dismisses everyone else? Huh? C’mon, why’re you so silent?”

“I- I’m not-!”

“No? You’re not the one humiliating people at class when they can’t get the right answer? You’re not making fun of Parvati’s hobbies just because they don’t allight with your interests? Go on, say you didn’t.”

“I- I- but you-!”

“I what?! Didn’t bite back before? Listen to me very carefully, Granger.” She gulped, pressing herself against the wall as I bent down to snarl in her personal space, my head exploding in sharp pain. “I’ve been nice, I’ve let you spill your vitriol in silence, because I know- I know you’re good deep deep inside, I know that you’re having a hard time with seeing other people upstage you, with being alone, with not fitting in because you’re a muggleborn- but I’m done. This was the last time you assumed things about me and goes unpunished, do you hear me?”

I had a feeling she didn’t understand all of my words, my accent thickening with the pain, but she gritted her teeth and nodded sharply, swallowing her tears before knocking her shoulder with mine and stomping away, the cat tail swinging behind her violently.

Gods.

I watched the corridor she left for a long time before taking a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose and hissing when the movement stretched the skin of my knuckles, the burn of it a reminder of what happened.

Freezing, I looked wide-eyed at the thrown away brush, my legs didn’t feel weak anymore, my body wasn’t cold. I cackled in relief, tears blurring my vision as I shook my hands free of the goo, smile ripping my cheeks at realizing that I was free.

My hand went to the cooling turnip, feeling it through my robes, the weight of it was comforting.

I turned on my heels when it hit me.

The smell.

Bile rose up my throat, and the only reason I didn’t throw up was over the cold that gripped my insides.

It smelled rotten and like- like old socks and shit.

Slowly turning around, I was met with thick legs that were much too short for the size of it. The skin lumpy and grey as I looked up, up, up-

The troll was growling, the mad eyes staring at me and its rotting teeth bared, the gums seemed decayed, and the smell was so bad it made my eyes water.

We stared at each other for a long moment, and then I stepped back.

My shriek hurt my throat when it roared loudly, swinging the huge club, so big I was sure it was bigger than me.

I ducked, falling to the ground and trying to protect my face from the debris from the exploded window it smashed, ignoring the burn from my cheek and scrambling to my feet to get away. If I had my wand- If I had my wand I could do something, anything- For a moment I thought of doing wandless magic; I was getting good at it, the week before I had been successful in lifting Lavender’s Witch Weekly magazine.

Just as soon as the idea hit me, I dismissed it. A magazine is worlds different than a solid wood club.

I wasn’t faster than it, what I had in speed it had in size.

I heard it swinging again, the whistling from the club cutting the wind and it’s enraged roar; a quick look over my shoulder and I saw it was swinging down to squash me like a bug, making me throw myself against the wall to avoid it. I had barely hit the wall when another scream got its attention, and I snapped my eyes at Hermione.

She was sweating, turning an ashy pale as she pointed her shaky wand to the troll, three other figures gaping behind her.

“What are you doing? Run!”

Harry also had his wand out, and I threw myself to the ground when the troll screamed in anger at my shrill voice and smacked it’s fist on the wall, trying to smash me.

“Not without you!”

I didn’t know who screamed, just that it got the troll’s attention. And then I was running again, shoving them out of way when it swung the club, pain shooting on my back as it clipped me.

It hadn’t even gotten me fully on the back, and I had a distinct idea that I should be screaming because I definitely couldn’t move my right arm, it just flopped around when I rolled with them on the ground.

To be honest, I had no idea what happened after.

Just that Harry was screaming for me as I blinked at the ground, my cheek burning on the ground, and I think Hermione shot a spell, then the corridor shook with the impact of it falling.

I think I screamed when Ron desperately turned me to lay on my back, choking on my cries and reaching for my right shoulder while Neville peered at me completely green on the face.

Hermione was speaking fast, Harry was calling my name and he was scared and I wanted to reassure him, but I was too busy biting my lip not to cry out.

I heard worried calls, stern adult voices and I cried out when a gentle hand tried moving my arm. Sprout was looking down at me, pale and there was a tightness around her eyes as she spoke to me, but I couldn’t hear her through the ring in my ears.

My eyes met Snape’s and I was knocked out.

Chapter Text

Harry knew that Star was oblivious to it, the way people gravitated to her, seemed to fall over each other to be closer. He was sure that if she did, she'd believe it to be over her name, not that she’d be completely wrong.

It was a little surprising she hadn't noticed, given how observant she was—it was one of the major traits they shared, though Harry knew they obtained it for different reasons.

She didn’t seem to realise how- just how popular she was, how easy it was for others to approach her on a good day, when her face was open and her eyes twinkled, the urge to have her attention on them when the corner of her lip curled just so.

Part of Harry was jealous of it, of how easy it was for her to talk with the other houses or the others in her year, even the older ones. How nothing seemed to phase her, and how fearless she was in face of authority or others trying to hurt her. But another part of him couldn’t be happier having her by his side, even if he had to learn to sharpen his tongue to keep up with her and the Slytherins.

Though he knew it had not been too long- it had been two months since they met on the train, he knew that they (Star, Ron, and Neville, who had finally started shedding his shyness at their insistence, Daph, Blaise and Theo) were friends that he’d keep for life.

Knew by the way that with less than a week Star had given him the chance to know what his parents looked like, by how she started calling him Harry James, how she knew he wouldn’t eat vegetables if she didn’t push them into his plate, how Ron would always loudly intervene whenever someone tried asking him things that made him uncomfortable, how Neville silently (and gladly) made him company when he’d go into his moods, how Daphne lost hours and hours on the library searching anything on his family, how Theo would constantly give him sweets and share his notes and how Blaise would defend him from Slytherins in that sly way none could match yet.

And he knew that there was very little he wouldn’t do for them, so when his best mate asked him and Ron to watch over Granger because she had a bad feeling (something that Ron and Blaise whispered about Seers and things he didn’t understand yet), Harry didn’t think twice of it.

Though neither of them understood why she’d bother when the girl was annoying and mean.

Harry had very little patience for Granger, less so than Ron, who had an ongoing bet with Blaise that he would explode on others before the Hols; Harry didn’t like how she kept antagonising Star, who always made sure to stop them from calling her names even after she was an annoying chit, nor how she always assumed things about them.

Sure, if you didn’t know Star she could come off as cold and dismissive, but as most Gryffindor learned, she was anything but. Star was warm and kind, she remembered people’s birthdays and their names, she made sure her pranks didn’t harm anyone, and she helped others without prompting if she noticed they were struggling; and yes, sometimes Star had a mean and vicious streak that blindsided them more than once, but- The point was that Harry couldn’t understand why they had to watch over Granger, of all people.

They’d understand if it was Neville, they all knew that Malfoy was only waiting for an opportunity to catch him alone, but Granger?!

But Star asked, she asked looking so worried that neither could deny, even if they would have rather spent the rest of their evening playing chess or talking.

So watch her, they did. And perhaps they had been too obvious about it, because the annoying girl had stomped over to them and demanded that they stop following her.

It had been Ron to babble about how they were just doing their jobs and how they’d much rather be doing anything but watching her nightmarish self be alone (Daphne would be proud of that quip, he knew), in doing so they had thoroughly lost her as she ran away angrily.

They lost a big part of the feast just by searching for the girl, with Ron and him bemoaning about never doing that again, and Star owed them for making them lose the festivities.

He was excited to see what she and Professor Flitwick had worked on with the bats; they had seen her helping him decorate that morning and Harry had wondered what else she had charmed it to do, he foolishly hoped one would swoop down and attack Malfoy, but aside from the very casual burns from her, Star didn’t seem to find him as much of an annoying git as he and Ron did.

Then Professor Quirrell had burst in, screaming about trolls loose in the dungeons and Harry felt an ice-cold fear grip his insides, because Star was supposed to be with the man, and she was unaccounted for.

Her and Granger.

He only had to share a panicked look with Ron, who had gone a sickly pale green, for both of them to decide what they had to do.

“Where’s Star?” They had shaken their heads at Neville’s squeak, the three of them sticking closer before Harry and Ron broke off from the first-years being herded away and neither had the time (or will) to stop Neville from following after them and sneaking between the Hufflepuff before they could truly part away from the students.

Hogwarts had never seemed so big and terrifying as it did with the three of them dashing through it; Harry thought he heard the paintings talking amongst themselves about warning a professor about them, and he idly noticed the absence of ghosts, from the ones who were perpetually engaged in a duel that ended with them killing one another, to the jolly one who liked to ask every girl that passed by if they wanted to dance with him, the only sounds echoing was their heavy breaths and heavy steps.

“Percy!” Ron hissed, clawing at Harry’s costume and keeping his arm out to stop Neville from continuing when they heard the hurried steps ahead of them; Neville was the one to push them into a little nook, the three of them squished together behind two armors.

Harry narrowed his eyes when they realised it was Snape and not Ron’s brother, exchanging looks and impatiently waiting for his steps to fade before continuing their search.

None spoke of what he was doing there instead of being with the teachers, but they were on their way to the dungeons, so maybe he was just catching up. They certainly didn’t have any more time when a mass of frizzy curls and bitter tears slammed into them.

“-Ah! What are you doing here?! Come to have a go at me as well? To tell me how much of a terrible person I am?!” Granger sniffed angrily, but Harry didn’t have the time (or will) to revel in her tears or the fact that Star had finally torn into her, the worry for his friend gnawing at his stomach.

“Nevermind that-! Where’s Star?”

Hermione scoffed, scowling and setting her jaw stubbornly, lifting her chin in that haughty manner that always made him grit his teeth for she reminded him too much of Aunt Petunia whenever she looked down on him.

“Of course you’d care for that- that horrible gir-”

“There’s a bloody Troll loose, woman!” Snapped Ron, red in the face in anger even as the witch blinked suspiciously while Neville nodded frantically. “Either tell us where Lily is or get the bloody hell out of the way!”

She must’ve seen something in their determined faces, or maybe it was the tears in Neville’s eyes, because Granger started looking sick, chin quivering before she whipped around so fast that her hair sharply slapped them in their faces, running back to wherever she came from, the three of them hurrying to catch up.

Harry felt his heart plummet to his stomach at the sounds filling in the closer they got; Star’s shrieks, the Troll’s roars and just, the sound of destruction- Of glass shattering, wood splintering, and rocks breaking… He was sure they’d haunt him for a while, as would the image of Star curled on the wall, steel grey eyes with pin-prick pupils, she was already hurt with a cut on her cheek and bloody hands; her golden hair ashy from the debris littered around her, costume stained as she cowered away from the Troll.

They had their wands in hand when Neville screamed they wouldn’t leave her, and he wheezed in pain after she slammed against them, pushing them down and covering them from the troll’s club.

Hermione was the one to levitate the club from the troll’s hand, dropping it on its head while Harry looked down at Star in distress when she didn’t move, breathing shallowly, her arm hanging oddly and her eyes staring blankly at the wall, cheek pressed on Neville’s leg as she had yet to move.

“Star! Star, get up!” He screamed, faintly noting that the troll had dropped down limply, the corridor shaking with the weight of the beast. Ron panicked, turning her around to face up and they paled even more at her scream of pain, tiny sobs leaving her lips while she wailed, hand reaching for her right shoulder and biting her lip to stop the cries, bitter tears running down the sides of her face.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” - “We need to find a professor! Where are the professors?! She needs help!” - “You’re ok! You’re ok!”

They were all speaking over each other, with Neville trying to comfort Star and Ron apologising, Hermione was shrieking about finding professors and Harry kneeled on her side, hands shaking and hovering over her, afraid of touching Lily and making it worse but needing to try something.

“What is going on here?!” Harry didn’t think he was as relieved to hear Snape’s voice as he was at that moment, head snapping up to see the teachers finally arriving.

Hermione was explaining it all rapidly while Professor Sprout hurried closer and kneeled by Star’s side, worry plain to see on her soft face when the witch asked quiet questions to his friend.

“No doubt the girl was seeking her moment of glory-” Professor Snape drawled, but he still had a pinch of worry in his lips before Harry scowled.

“She was having her detention! Lily wasn’t at the feast, she didn’t know!” Snape sneered angrily when Harry spoke, twitching at her name, but remained silent when Quirrell stepped forward, pale and seemingly looking like he’d faint again at the sight of the crying girl.

Harry wanted to snarl at him, it was his fault for leaving her alone! Why didn’t he come back for her?!

“O-Oh, d-d-dee-dear.” The Defence professor quivered while Professor Sprout tried coaxing what hurt from Star, whose eyes had been unfocused until they met Snape’s. They’d take the mickey out of her for passing out from looking at him later, he was sure, but at that moment all Harry could think of was what would happen with Star.

Would she be ok?

“We need Poppy, Minerva.” Professor Sprout spoke sharply, eyes roving the rest of them and patting Neville’s shoulder when she noticed he looked a tad too green. “Where is Miss McKinnon’s wand?”

Harry looked at Ron and Neville questioningly, but both boys shook their heads at the silent question.

“I-I h-h-a-hav-have it, p-p-p-professor.” The rage returned, and Harry bared his teeth when the man winced at the other adults looking at him sharply.

“And why do you have a student’s wand, Professor Quirrell?” McGonagall asked coldly as she pulled out her own wand, transfiguring a piece of debris into a makeshift stretcher; Professor Snape already levitating the unconscious little witch onto it while the other man shrunk at their combined glares.

“T-T-Th-the gir-r-rl is mo-mo-mo-most suf-f-f-icient at-t clea-ning sp-p-pells.” He replied lamely, all but whimpering when Snape stepped closer, looming over him while the man shrank into himself.

“And you left her alone, did you? Unsupervised to…?”

Harry was impatient with the interrogation when his friend was knocked out cold.

Luckily, it seemed like Professor Sprout agreed with his thought as she gently settled Star better on the stretcher before sending them a sharp look.

“Perhaps this interrogation can happen when we don’t have an injured student at hand?” Her voice was sharp, but it seemed to do the trick of having Professor Snape back off - even if he had done so with a sneer and a tightening around his eyes. “Good. Now, is anyone else injured?”

All of them shook their heads, looking at each other questioningly before Neville spoke up, looking at their Head of House in worry.

“Is- Is Lily going to be ok?”

Once more he was glad for Neville’s presence, because even though he was clearly wigged out like the rest of them, their friend was calm and brave enough to ask what Harry was too scared to find out.

Harry didn’t miss how the two women shared looks before Professor Sprout patted Neville’s shoulder kindly.

“Your friend will be just fine, dear.”

Hopefully.

Was left unsaid, but Harry decided not to focus on that in order to hurry after Star when they started walking briskly down the corridor, his passed-out friend hovering between Professor Sprout and McGonagall, while the potions professor kept back to deal with the Troll and the other man.

“What was he thinking-” Their head of house hissed, her accent thickened in a way Harry couldn’t help but link to Star’s and how much he wanted to hear from the girl. “Taking away a student’s wand!”

“And keeping her from the Feast?” Sprout added in a fit of quiet anger, hand still holding Lily’s unharmed one while the children trailed behind them, all sharing worried looks. “A first year?”

Harry couldn’t hear anything else they were hissing about, could barely care when Star’s head kept lolling from one side to the other whenever they took a corner. He’d never thought Hogwarts as huge as when the minutes stretched until they finally came face to face with the doors of the Hospital Wing.

Neville had run ahead, opening them loudly and crying out for Madame Pomfrey to hurry.

He would’ve laughed at the sight of an incensed Medi-witch over his disturbance if tears weren’t burning his eyes, terrified for his friend.

“What is the meaning of-” Her stern eyes snapped to the student floating between the two teachers, lips pressing together harshly. “What has happened?”

Harry watched between Granger and Ron as she floated his friend up to one of the beds, wand making patterns over her pale body while Professor Sprout opened her mouth to explain, only to blink as if remembering she didn’t exactly know before turning their way.

He tensed under their eyes, feeling Ron step closer defensively, ready to argue if needed when Granger opened her mouth.

“It was my fault!” She cried out, shaking hands going up to cover her mouth as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “I went looking for her! W-We had a row and- and- and if we hadn’t she- she would’ve gotten to the f-feast-!”

The Professors exchanged looks while Harry awkwardly patted her back, not sure how to proceed as the girl carried on sobbing.

“Now, Miss Granger, Lily wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place, I doubt a few minutes would’ve been enough to have her away from the Troll,” Sprout said kindly, approaching them to offer the girl a tissue while McGonagall stood at the Hufflepuff’s back. “Why don’t one of you tell us what happened?”

Ron swallowed thickly, clearing his throat haltingly, “S-she had detention, Professor. B-but we thought she’d be free by the Feast since she started early- uhm- We went looking for her when she didn’t show up-”

“And why did you not warn a Professor?” Their Head of house interrupted, making Harry scowl fiercely, but a tiny voice that reminded him too much of Daphne kept him from opening his mouth to say what was on his mind. “Or, at least, one of the Prefects? Your brother is one, is he not?”

“Well, we didn’t think about it, you were out of the Hall so fast.” Ron replied darkly, face reddening in anger and eyes turning colder, almost a mimic of Blaise. “Don’t think we would’ve been able to, either way. Too many people on the way.” He clipped before returning his eyes to Sprout, whose lips were pursed in an effort to hide how the edges of her mouth were curling up.

“And then?”

“We went looking for her,” Harry carried on, eyes flicking back over their shoulder to see Neville holding Star’s hand while Pomfrey still ran her wand over her. “We found Hermione and she took us to Star. The Troll was destroying everything and she was trying to run away from it- We tried to get its attention from h-her,” He had to swallow back his tears, throat closing at the memory of his friend cowering under the window, “It was going to squash us, I think- She shoved us out and it- it got her on her back-”

“Granger levitated his club,” Ron said, sounding begrudgingly impressed. “He passed out when it hit his head.”

“T-The Troll got her on h-her back,” Granger added silently, twisting the end of her skirt- it took Harry a moment to realise all of their costumes had vanished upon walking through the doors.

And to think he was having the time of his life with Star the night before setting up the prank.

“Mister Longbottom!” All eyes turned to see Neville glaring stubbornly at Madame Pomfrey, hand still holding their friend’s and his chin sticking out challengingly. “You need to step back.”

“I’m not leaving her side.” His voice was wavering and his eyes were watery, but Neville went as far as sitting on the bed with a glare.

Hermione squeaked in shock at the move while Sprout chuckled quietly, amusedly watching the other witch put her hands on her hips with a fierce and stern glare.

“Mister Longbottom I need to change her out of her uniform, and you need to return to your dorm!” Pomfrey turned around, looking back at them with a frown. “All of you need to leave for your dorms.”

“My arm is broken.” Neville blurted out, face red when all of the attention returned to him.

Harry elbowed Ron when the ginger tried smothering a snort with a cough, face reddening in an effort not to laugh when Harry raised a leg, just as bold.

“My foot hurts.” For extra measure, the dark-haired boy leaned on his friend, who was starting to shake with the effort to remain silent- or maybe the shock of what they faced was finally dawning on him. “I don’t think I can walk all the way back.”

McGonagall huffed in sync with the Medi-witch, looking between the two boys as displeasure and disapproval lined her face, lips tugging down.

“Now, both of you stop this right now.” She commanded sharply, which only made Harry lean further on Ron. He saw Neville set his shoulders from the corner of his eye. “You heard Madame Pomfrey, up to your dorms-”

“But I’m hurt.” He insisted, looking at Sprout with eyes wide like Star’s whenever she claimed innocence to the twins after a prank she most definitely set off. “I swear.”

Sprout’s lips twitched, eyes twinkling with mischief as she hummed, nodding a little and looking between both boys. “Well, Minerva, with how they had to face a Troll by themselves, we couldn’t expect to send them straight to bed without at least checking they aren’t hurt, could we?”

The stern professor huffed again, shaking her head before staring them down hard.

“You two may stay, but if I hear from Madame Pomfrey you got in the way, a hundred points will be taken from Gryffindor.”

All of them blanched, Hermione let out a keening noise that told them she was close to passing out. “I’m very fine! I-I should go to the Common Room!”

Ron shared a look with him, nodding at Harry before setting him right.

“I’ll walk with you-”

“And twenty points will be taken from Gryffindor for such a dangerous act!” McGonagall clipped, peering at them from behind her glasses. “Five of each.”

Harry swallowed drily, choosing to ignore that for the moment as Hermione squeaked her way out with Ron and McGonagall trailing behind her, instead, preferring to rush to Star’s other side.

“Is she going to be okay?” He asked worriedly, noting that pajamas had been magicked onto his friend and that she was turned stomach down. “She’s not too hurt, is she?”

Pomfrey sighed, peering at the two boys with that look most teachers had whenever they saw them together, haunted and pained, before she snapped her wand again to change them into something else, as well.

“Her right shoulder and a few of her ribs are shattered,” they gasped in shock at that, Harry’s eyes burning with tears while Neville looked green on the face, like he was about to be sick. “Now, you insisted on being here, so you will listen to me very carefully,”

Harry could barely hear her talking, eyes focused on Star’s paling face, gently brushing her hair out of her face as Pomfrey said something about waking her up to give her some potion, and that she might be in pain or terrified when she woke up-

There was something about vanishing the bones because they were too destroyed, as well, but Harry was focused on holding her uninjured hand and trying to keep his eyes away from the terrible purple skin of her back.

Neville did throw up in a bin when her right side went limp and sank with the lack of bones, but Harry was too busy crouching so Star would see him first when she opened her eyes.

“Very good, well, you try and calm her down, Mister Potter.”

Her wand movement was gentler this time, twisting her hand as Star’s eyes fluttered open sluggishly, hazy grey and unfocused while Harry squeezed her hand.

“Star?” The call her his friend snapping her eyes his way, her pupil shrinking in fear and her breath picking up, making the boy squeeze her hand harder. “You’re fine, i-it’s the Hospital Wing, yeah?”

She made a noise of pain, a whine while her eyes filled with fat tears, bottom lip wobbling in response, “E-Everyone?”

“We’re all fine, you pushed us out of the way. See, Neville’s here, too.” He felt a hand on his shoulder, too big to be Neville’s, especially since the boy crouched on his side, smiling wobbly at their blonde friend.

When Harry looked back, it was to see Sprout smiling gently at Star, watching Neville whisper reassurances her way while Madame Pomfrey waved her wand this way and that.

“That was very brave of you, Miss McKinnon.” She praised kindly, squeezing Harry’s shoulder while Lily sniffed with a hesitant nod. “And you have some very loyal friends, you should be very proud of them.”

“I-I a-am.”

Harry sniffled, feeling his own lip wobble.

He was so scared.

“Good, thirty points for such a show of bravery from all of you.”

At least they got the points back.

It wasn’t long before Pomfrey had chased them out to their own beds, taking their place by her head to quietly explain what had happened and telling the girl what she had to do.

Sprout didn’t leave, taking Star’s hand and gently brushing her thumb over the back of it while Pomfrey helped her drink the foul-looking potion.

They nearly bolted back to her when Star gagged, nearly spitting the potion to the side of the bed, heaving dry and coughing in disgust.

“Just another cup, dear, and I’ll have some of the feast brought to you. There was pumpkin pie.” Sprout soothed, and for a moment, for a single moment, Harry wished he had gone to HufflePuff.

Of course, only if Ron, Star, and Neville followed him.

“I h-hate pumpkin.” She gagged, taking a deep breath before allowing Pomfrey to tilt the goblet into her mouth. They all waited with bated breaths, watching her swallow back her disgust before hanging her tongue out and breathing fast. “That was bowfin.”

Harry laughed in relief, not having a minimal understanding of what she just said with her thick accent, but noticing how more clear-eyed she looked, smiling tiredly at the Professor still holding her hand and at the Mediwitch already offering other potions, this time, none that had her seizing in revulsion.

“So, any chance I could get some nut bread?”