Starting to Settle
You flopped down on your new four-poster bed, releasing a sigh of relief. The rest of the afternoon after you said goodbye to Newt was a whirlwind of introductions, tours, and paperwork. You had been led to Dumbledore’s office, in awe of the breath-taking architecture of even the most mundane hallways lining the insides of Hogwarts.
The Sorting Hat was roused from its deep slumber, quickly and unceremoniously sorting you before falling back asleep, grumbling about its disrupted hibernation. Hufflepuff - the same house Newt was in when he was your age. You met your head of house, Professor Sprout, immediately afterwards. She welcomed you with a warm smile, but you saw the way her eyes hesitated at the sight of your bandages.
Professor McGonagall assisted you closely, taking over when Dumbledore couldn’t stand by your side and had to take care of some “Official Hogwarts Business.” While giving you a tour of all the important parts of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall warned you of the difficulties you would face as a new student at the school. Hogwarts rarely ever accepted students during the year, especially students later than first-years. You were already aware of this, knowing full well that your fellow fifth-years had already been going to school with each other for over four years, and that making friends would be difficult. To you, however, making friends felt irrelevant when all you could think about was the life with Newt you had left behind and the promise of returning to it. He had promised that once you were “completely healed,” he would consider taking you back and resuming your travels.
You glanced around your new dorm room. Everyone else had roommates, but because of your “unique circumstances” (everyone had been calling it that), you had a smaller room to yourself. Slowly, you rose to your feet and located the two backpacks that had been magically transported here the moment Newt gave them to Dumbledore.
You carefully placed all your clothing into the small wardrobe at the far end of your room, a full-length mirror hung on the door, reflecting the dim light. Avoiding your reflection, you sorted your clothes into things you thought you would actually wear to school and things that you wouldn’t. As you stared at the meager pile of sweaters, shirts, and two pairs of pants suitable for school, a pang of worry struck you. The larger heap of overalls, dirt-stained shirts, and mud-slickers - your usual attire for attending to animals - stared back at you. At least the sweaters you owned were properly themed: hand-me-down Hufflepuff merch from Newt. You would need to go shopping for school clothes soon.
This realization made you worry even more. Were you allowed to leave to go shopping? If so, where would you go? You didn’t even have any money with you. Was there a school store? You hadn’t ever been on your own before. When your parents passed away when you were younger, you had immediately been taken in by Theseus and his wife, going straight from your childhood home to their large, unfamiliar city apartment in America. The sights and sounds of the bustling city were overwhelming, and it was obvious you didn’t belong. The Scamanders, close family friends, had been devastated by the untimely deaths of both your parents, and didn’t hesitate to take you under their wing. You only spent a few weeks under the care of the elder Scamander brother, who, admittedly, wasn’t much of a father. Once Theseus saw you curled up with a well-loved copy of his brother’s book, he sent him an owl asking him to meet you. From then, it was clear to everyone that Newt and you were kindred spirits meant to find each other.
You were incredibly grateful for everything the Scamanders had done for you, especially Newt, but becoming an apprentice at such a young age meant you never gained the independence your peers had. While other wizards and witches your age spent nine months away from their parents at boarding schools, you had spent every single second of the past 9 years with Newt, rarely ever having a solitary moment. To you, this wasn’t a problem until the accident. Now, you were alone, for the first time in nearly a decade, in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by hundreds of other people more experienced in being independent individuals.
Closing the wardrobe door, you mustered up all the courage in you to meet your reflection’s gaze. Your face, still half-obscured by your white bandages, looked unfamiliar to your mind. You needed to change your bandages. Professor McGonagall had informed you that dinner would be served in the Great Hall soon, and you only had a few minutes to get ready. You braced yourself as you picked at the edge of the bandages. 'Rip it off fast’, Newt had told you.
Taking a deep breath, you peeled the bandages away in one swift motion. The stinging sensation was sharp but fleeting, and you winced at the pain. As the grimy cloth fell away, you were left staring at the raw, angry scars that deformed your once smooth skin. The gashes, some scarred over, some still raw and oozing, crisscrossed your upper jaw and neck, a constant reminder of the attack.
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away before they had a chance to spill over. You couldn’t break down now, not this soon. Not when you needed to face the entire school’s eyes in the Great Hall. You were determined to put on a brave face, even if it was a scarred one. The last objects in your brown backpack provided a sense of ease - a small bottle of ointment and a thick roll of clean white bandages. You quickly washed your face in the small, private attached bathroom (another product of the “unique circumstance”), wincing as the water touched the sensitive areas, and applied a fresh layer of ointment. Carefully, you rewrapped the bandages, hiding the ugly scarring once more.
Your boots were dirtied from the journey to Hogwarts. Other students had the luxury of the Hogwarts express, but you and Newt needed to apparate to Hogsmeade and walk the rest of the way in the muddy snow. You muttered a quick cleaning spell on your boots, restoring them to a shiny patent leather. Newt had stressed the importance of wandless magic in your studies, saying that you could never rely on having your wand. You were, by no means, on the same level as Newt, but you could use wandless magic for most simple spells. You made sure to file away a reminder to yourself to not use wandless magic in front of others, as to not draw unnecessary attention to yourself.
Quickly, you changed from your plain black sweater to your (Newt’s old) Hufflepuff pullover. It was obviously too big on you, but it obscured the outlines of the rest of the bandages on your arms and torso. ‘Try to fit in,’ you thought to yourself. With a deep breath, you opened the door of your dorm room and began the short journey to the Great Hall.
The Hufflepuff common room was incredibly welcoming and cozy, and the plush armchairs bathing in the golden hour light filtering through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows seemed to draw you in like a fish on a hook. Your stomach pulled you away, angrily reminding you of the lack of food you had ingested that day.
The halls of Hogwarts stretched on for seemingly miles, an unsolvable labyrinth to a newcomer like yourself. After an embarrassingly long time and a few helpful portraits, you finally found your way to the Great Hall. The sight that greeted you was nothing short of magical. The enchanted ceiling reflected the colorful hues of the winter sunset, and hundreds of floating candles cast a warm, inviting glow over the four long tables filled with hundreds of students. Conversations hushed as heads turned to look at the newcomer. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you searched for a seat, avoiding all eye contact and attention from the other students. Your heart finally calmed a bit as a tall, friendly-looking girl with a large yellow “Prefect” badge scooched over and motioned for you to sit next to her. You gave her a quick, thankful smile and took a seat, still trying to avoid the mutters and whispers from everyone else. The glossy table felt cold under your fingertips, providing your flushed body some relief.
Scanning the room, you noticed the long table at the head of the Great Hall, lined with official-looking professors. Professor McGonagall caught your eye and gave you a reassuring nod. Suddenly, a chill ran up your spine as you felt someone’s eyes drilling into the side of your head. Glancing around, you locked eyes with a tall, broad, dark figure at the staff table. His gaze was unrelenting on you, making your mind feel violated from his stare alone. The dark eyes, shadowed by his jet-black hair didn’t blink for the entire time you were frozen as he studied you. Yet again, your stomach ripped you away with an awkwardly loud growl that was thankfully covered up by the chatter of your classmates. Despite having a delicious, fantastic-smelling feast laid out in front of you, you had to take a few moments to compose yourself before loading up your plate with fragrant roast chicken and rosemary potatoes.
This might be harder than you thought.