Chapter 4
September 1st, 1943
Hope
The time has finally arrived, platform 9 3/4’s. Dumbledore helped me run into the wall, but then had to leave me to go arrive with the other faculty. The other students have started to notice me, I can already hear the whispers, have seen the pointed fingers.
So far, no one has been brave enough to ask me if their assumptions are right, but then again, they probably don’t need confirmation beyond my grey tie. Red, blue, yellow, and green surround me, making me a bit envious that everyone already knows where they belong.
I’ve been wondering where I’ll be sorted for months now, and I’m no closer to an answer. The easiest choice would be Gryffindor, but I don’t want to be brave here. That’s where I would have been sorted in my old world, the only clear answer for who I was. But, where will the girl I’m trying to be end up?
Slytherin is the only one I’m confident about, that I won’t be sorted into that is. My Father would have been the best Slytherin, but I’ve always been more like Mom. Ravenclaw would be acceptable, but I’m not sure about all that studying. I guess it depends on whether being a book worm has been a necessity for me or if I truly enjoy it.
I don’t know how I would feel in Hufflepuff. It would probably be easy, I could fly through subjects with minimal expectations. But, would that disappoint my parents? Not striving to be the best I can?
“Ms. Mikaelson!” I hear someone call, pulling me from my thoughts.
Turning, my smile falls the moment I find Tom Riddle walking towards me with a gaggle of boys flanking him. Tom seems selfishly excited to see me, like I’m a mystery bag he just can’t wait to open. His friends, on the other hand, look at me with skepticism and loose politeness.
“Mr. Riddle,” I sigh once everyone stops walking. “How are you today?”
My smile does nothing to hide the fact that I do not want to be talking to him, but that has yet to stop the man.
Riddle puts his hands in his pockets, looking entirely too arrogant for my liking, “I am doing wonderful, thank you for asking. Would you like to join us on the train? I’m sure it being your first day, you’re nervous about where to sit.”
That would be thoughtful, if he was a normal boy in a normal world. But, seeing as he isn’t offering me this for my benefit, I have no qualms with saying no.
“That is very kind of you to offer, but I’m actually planning on meeting some new people. Seeing as I’m already acquainted with you, I’ll find some new people to make friends with,” I tell him, delighting in the way his smile falters and his friends quietly snicker.
I’m about to tell him and his group goodbye, but he beats me to it.
“No harm, have you put any thought into where you will be sorted? Perhaps you will make a splash in Slytherin,” He muses.
I keep a calm mask on, not wanting to give away just how unlikely that is to happen. I’m not from here, being offended that I would be sorted into Slytherin wouldn’t make much sense.
Tilting my body towards the train, I reply with a shrug, “I have been thinking about it a bit, but I’ll trust the hat to know where I belong. Can’t say that I have a preference exact—”
I’m cut off by a weird sensation in my mind. After running into Tom at the book store, I immediately asked Dumbledore to help me with Occlumency, just to be safe. In my old world, we don’t really use a mind reading spell like I know Voldemort is known to love.
But, meditation and clearing your mind was the first step. I spent countless hours back home practicing these things, conjuring a magical wall to protect my mind was child’s play. Even Dumbledore couldn’t breach my shield yesterday, so feeling Tom trying to enter is almost comical.
I let him search, knowing he won’t find anything. Internally, I pay attention to his frustration. Beyond my shield, I have a dense fog meant to confuse anyone who attempts. A fog that Tom quickly gives up on searching, coming back to find my arrogant smile.
With a small chuckle, I finish my farewell, “Well, on that note, I’ll see you boys later.”
Turning, I don’t bother to look back. Quickly hopping onto the train, I search the compartments for students around my age. Towards the back, I finally find one with enough room for me, and a few girls wearing red and blue.
Opening the door, I lightly knock on the frame, “Hi, I’m new and I’m going to be a sixth year. Is it okay if I sit with you all?”
The girls all share a look before turning bright smiles on me. Quickly, they usher me into the compartment and start peppering me with questions so fast that there’s no way I could answer them all succinctly.
“Okay, okay, let’s give the poor girl some room to breathe,” a red headed girl wearing blue declares.
The other girls quiet, and I take a deep breath. The red head is very pretty if pale, seems tall, and potentially the leader of this little group seeing as the other girls defer to her slightly.
“So,” the red head starts. “I’m Mary Weasley, also a sixth year and I’m in Ravenclaw. This is Taylor Thomas and Amanda Wood.”
Mary motions first to a girl about my size with dark skin and beautifully braided hair, she waves at me with a bright smile. The latter is shy, only offering a timid smile, but just as pretty as her friends. Her tanned skin could be because of the summer, but her ethnic ambiguity could also be the cause. Both of the others are wearing red, probably Gryffindors.
“I’m Hope Mikaelson, it’s nice to meet you all,” I tell them honestly.
They start asking me questions, but slower this time. Allowing me to answer before another gets thrown out. All three seem nice, letting me know which professors to look out for, what bullies to avoid, but eventually I can’t dance around their questions any longer.
“So, not that we aren’t happy to make a new friend, but why are you transferring to Hogwarts?” Taylor asks with a curious grin.
“Right,” I start, nervously wiping my sweaty palms on my robes. “Everyone will know soon enough anyways, I’m not actually from this world. I’m from somewhere else, ended up here, and am lucky enough that Dippet is allowing me in based only on the O.W.L.’s I took not too long ago.”
All three witches stare at me in open shock. After a few seconds, I start shifting nervously in my seat. The gawking has officially commenced.
“Are…are you serious?” Amanda practically whispers, her shock keeping her mouth open.
Sighing, I try to smile without coming off as awkward, “Yeah, I’m serious. Believe me, I wish I was joking. Being the new girl is going to be hard enough. If I could leave out the details without seeming odd, I would.”
After I shrug, the girls turn to have a silent conversation with each other. Something is worrying them, if the furrowed brows and slight frowns are anything to go by. Thankfully, they don’t leave me wondering for long.
“Hope,” Mary starts, broaching this topic with extreme caution. “I…This doesn’t matter to us. We are more than happy to be your friend regardless of how you answer this question, but others might not be as kind. Do you know your blood status?”
That question shocks me. I mean, I know Hermione got bullied for being a muggleborn, but of all the things I was worried about, this was not one. I’ve never actually had to think about this, the only thing that ever mattered in my world was whether you had magic or not.
“You mean, did both of my parents have magic?” I ask, trying to seem like I genuinely don’t understand this world.
Mary smiles and nods, still looking a bit nervous about my answer. I guess as a Weasley, she’s never had to worry about being called anything other than a blood traitor. But she seems genuinely worried, and I feel warmth spread within me.
Looking between all three, I answer, “My Father’s side is where my magic comes from. My Mother wasn’t a witch.”
No, my Mother was a werewolf before becoming a hybrid, but she could never wield magic. I don’t think that distinction will help me in this world, though. If anything, finding out I’m a werewolf will further separate me from my new classmates.
There’s a collective sigh of relief before Taylor turns to me, “I’m a half-blood too, don’t worry. Depending on where you’re sorted, you should be fine. Fingers crossed you don’t end up in Slytherin, though.”
*******************
Tom
Sitting down in our compartment, I can finally let my scowl out in full. That’s twice I’ve been rejected by the same witch, meanwhile I have never been rejected. By anyone. Ever. At least, no one still living. Why do my looks and charm work on everyone except her? Well, and Dumbledore, but I don’t consider him as anything other than an obstacle.
“My Lord, why worry about one witch?” Arnold Lestrange asks hesitantly.
They know better than to question my moves or motives, but I do allow for some curiosity. Honestly, at this point, I may have to enlist my followers in the search for answers. Just because she’s put off by me doesn’t mean one of them can’t cozy up to her, bleed her of any useful information before focusing on the next target. Anything to further my goals.
“Men,” I start, grabbing everyone’s attention in the now quiet room. “Hope Mikaelson is not your average witch. She’s from a different magical world, only recently landed here.”
Shock and awe filter through my followers, small whispers and gasps sound. I wait until the news sinks in, if it took me a few seconds to come to terms with it, my men will take a few minutes. I don’t mind, I enjoy watching the hive buzz around sometimes, at least when there’s something interesting going on.
The little interaction on the platform only furthered my curiosity with the Mikaelson girl. When we made eye contact, I slipped into her mind and was met with intense fog. Even without disturbing the landscape, she noticed my intrusion. Both of those facts lead me to believe she’s powerful, hiding something, or a combination of the two. No other sixth year, besides him, is that good at mind magic.
Once everyone is again looking to me, I continue, “I have not learned much yet, but everyone here will be kind to her. My current theory is that she’s powerful, but I’m sure we will find out soon enough.
“Gaining her trust is essential. Most likely, that is the only way she will share her knowledge, and I will learn everything she has to offer. Whoever manages to catch her fancy will get a reward, you know what to do.”
With that, discussions start to brew, ideas being floated around. Unsurprisingly, Malfoy, Lestrange, and Dolohov are the most interested in whatever reward I might offer. That incentive should bring about results, and quickly.
On the other hand, Crabbe, Goyle, and Yaxley are all focused on how to get between her legs the quickest. Something tells me quick is the perfect way to describe any of them and that activity.
But, at the end of the day, my men are the B team. Only being sent out on the off chance that I can’t get what I want. Which is a ridiculous notion, it certainly hasn’t happened yet. No, Hope Mikaelson simply has a tough shell. One I will enjoy cracking.
*****************
Hope
“Are you ready?” Dumbledore asks from my right.
I’m not looking at him, though. My eyes are stuck on the huge double doors that will soon open. The rest of the train ride was actually pretty fun, it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to relax with good company my own age. My new friends all promised to save me a seat in case I get sorted into their houses.
Which leads me to my current nightmare. The first years are finished, I can hear Dippet’s voice through the doors. The moment he announced a new student, whispers started. Once he mentioned the different world part, the volume steadily grew and grew until just now. When Dippet commanded silence to finish his little speech.
“No,” I tell him honestly.
He nervously shifts next to me, pausing only a moment before saying more, “Dippet and I figured out where you may go during full moons. On the way to Hogsmeade, a family has recently vacated a large house. With only two weeks until your next…transition, I will ensure the doors and windows are sealed.”
Sighing, I sneak a glance at his hopeful expression. Clearly, he thinks that having my ducks in a row will make me feel better.
“Well, the reminder that every bone in my body breaks once a month does put this moment into perspective. Let’s get this over with,” I grumble.
He quietly chuckles before flicking his wand at the doors. They open on a phantom wind, and I hold my head up the entire walk to the front. Looking at the students would be a rooky mistake, instead my focus is on the floating candles, enchanted ceiling, and huge windows lining the Great Hall.
In no time at all, I’m seated on a stool, and looking out into a sea of faces. Curiosity and bewilderment is the general vibe I get from the crowd, and I note where the different houses sit. From my left to right, there’s Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. All are lively with anticipation, all wondering where I’ll end up.
Dumbledore brings the hat over and places it on my head, covering over half my face.
“Ahhh, you, Ms. Mikaelson, are a strange one indeed,” I hear the hat whisper into my mind.
Please, not Slytherin and not Gryffindor
“What’s this? But you would thrive in Gryffindor, little one. Slytherin, I can see why you would not want to go there, but Gryffindor? That could be the perfect home for you.”
Please, please, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff
The hat sighs before responding, “If you so insist, fine. No matter, something tells me you’ll do plenty without those great houses. Perhaps, you are exactly what this world needs.”
What do you m—
“RAVENCLAW!”
The blue table in the middle breaks out into intense cheers, and the hat is lifted from my head before I can ask for any clarification on that cryptic message. Taking the first step down, I turn to look at the hat for one more moment, wondering what on Earth it meant by that.
Shaking my head, I come back to the present and finish my decent. Ravenclaws all come to shake my hand and say hi, completely overwhelming me, until Mary Weasley pops up by my side.
“All right, all right, everyone give her some room! Come on, Hope. I saved you a seat over here,” Mary tells me while dragging me through the crowd.
She introduces me to everyone in our year, but I immediately forget each name she lists. Everyone is nice, wonderfully smart, and very welcoming. Mary even turns out to be a great friend, always making sure to explain if I seem lost and keeping me active in whatever conversation is going on. In a weird way, she reminds of Lizzy Saltsman, or a version of her that gets along great with me.
There are plenty of eyes on me, have been since I entered the hall, but a nagging sensation still makes me lift my head. My eyes meet Tom Riddle’s, who lifts his goblet up in front of him with a smile, like he’s toasting or something.
Well, Riddle. I guess, let your games begin.