Stephanie Scamander
The first indication that this day would be different to any other was the flurry of activity that rang out from the kitchen as the girl descended the stairs. Taking the steps with a slow and languid pace that betrayed the dreary fog that still clouded her mind, the ravenette gave a yawn as she brushed her bangs back off her face, allowing her to take in the sight of the open space that dominated the ground floor of the family's home.
Seated at the dining table was her mother, glancing through the newspaper with moving pictures, each one seemingly clamouring for the attention that was currently directed at words. The woman in the Sleekeazy’s advertisement on the paper's back may have been upside down, but she still seemed to flick her head towards the girl descending the stairs, giving a slight bump to her hair with her hands, as if to try and tempt her.
Not that she had the desire to buy any of the hair potion, she was far too young to need any.
Her father was busy in the kitchen like he was most mornings, clanging away as he filled containers with various foodstuffs - raw chunks of meat sat in a bucket, piled high and sprinkled with a softly glowing powder. Next to it sat a pail filled with what looked like petrified field mice, ones that she gave a slight grimace at - they would be annoying to feed to Hendrag and his brood, especially if she got the task.
Other buckets still held various other items - one of them was precariously balancing with its rim just over the edge, a long wooden shaft stirring a strange swirling mix of orange copper and bloody red.
One bucket in particular stood out - a simple metal thing with a wooden top, held on by metal chains that bound the lid tightly to it’s container. Every so often, the bucket would bounce on the counter top for a handful of seconds, before her father would jab his aspen wand at it, and it would go still for a couple minutes or so.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the brunette man glanced over his shoulder and pushed his glasses further onto his nose, from where they had slipped. “Ah - morning Steph. Can you go feed the Thestrals? They’re a bit testy with me now days. And you might as well take a peek at Maevel - she should be getting ready to mate again.”
Giving an exaggerated sigh, a grin nevertheless slid unto her features - Thestral and Unicorn duty, it could easily have been so much worse. If she had to try feeding Hendrag and his brood of Acromantla for a third time, she would have honestly refused - some Scamander she was, revolted by a spider.
.. Albeit one big enough to flatten the house she lived in.
"Alright dad - just remember, its September 1st! You know what that means~!" With a singsong tone in her voice, Stephanie Scamander dug into her jackets pocket and withdrew her wand with careful and practiced reverence. She had had it for a year, much like many of the scions and heiresses of the Pureblood households in England, yet her knowledge of spells was still somewhat limited, as was to be expected. Eager and practiced with handiwork spells as she may have been, she had still seldom drawn it in a hurry.
"How could I forget? I lose my free labour for a year!" With a teasing chuckle, her father flicked his own wand, silently immobilising the rattling chain bound bucket of Chinese Chomping Cabbages, before giving her a nod as she donned her Wellingtons. "Alright - that should hold them until you get to Maevel. Just remember, you can't cast outside of ward-lines. Don't need the ministry on us."
With a half grumbled noise that sounded vaguely like 'again', her father turned away, and Stephanie levelled her wand at the bucket of Chomping Cabbages, which sat stationary. An inhalation proceeded her cast, a practiced swish and flick, and an intonation of her perhaps most practiced spell - although really it was a charm. "Wingardium Leviosa!"
For a second the bucket did nothing, before it quivered for a moment, and slowly rose into the air, as if being dangled from its carrying handle. With a half turn, she repeated the exercise on the perhaps overloaded bucket of meat chunks, each the size of her fist, perhaps larger. It, too, rose into the air, and with her wand firmly gripped in her hand, Stephanie merrily strode out into the garden in her boots, headed for the fence around their little cottage.
The fence wasn’t that impressive - a simple wooden thing designed to keep the more inquisitive animals away from their home. Beyond it were the various paddocks, eight of them each with their own slice of the metaphorical pie, whilst the cottage sat in the clearing at the centre. The paddock before her was forested and somewhat dark, perfect for the death mares that resided within. Moving onto the crossing point, Steph climbed up on the two steps, before crossing into the paddock proper and clicking her tongue.
Thestrals were something she couldn't see - not yet at least. It made actually finding them a difficult task, but the Scamander family had their own tricks and ways to see what could not be seen.
Raising her wand hand, she tilted it so it laid flat, her wand laying atop her palm without interference. Swallowing the slight tugging sensation she felt from stretching her magic such, she exhaled the pent up breath. "Point me Thestral."
The wand in her palm twitched, before slowly turning to point in the direction of the forest once again. A small twitch brought the corners of her lips upwards into a smile - Thestrals were seldom bothered by wixen, so they were often creatures of habit. And a Thestral's habit tended to be to stick to dark forests, where the damp and dark under the canopy kept them comfortable. Sure, she had expected to find them there, but she also had previously been surprised by one waiting for her in the open paddock once - the Point Me charm was a simple precaution.
Trudging through the field, Steph came to the tree line without issue, standing upon a trail that had evidently been walked by a Thestral some time this morning, judging by how clear the tracks were. Whilst the tracks could have let her follow the creatures to where they were, she had no such need. Despite the death mares being invisible to her, she could clearly see where they were, for amidst the small stream trickling beside the path, small ripples radiated from where something was clearly standing amidst the water.
But her attention wasn’t on the invisible adults - for there was visible movement in the water, as if one of the Thestrals could not keep still. The smile pulled a little wider, warmer. This was a mare - the first of the season.
Pursing her lips, she carefully descended the embankment, coming to a stop on the shore line and flicking her wand downwards. Almost instantly, the buckets set themselves down with soft thumps, her inexperience with magic showing through as she let the buckets hit the ground perhaps a bit too hard.
Regardless of the buckets wellbeing, she slipped her wand back into her pocket and reached down, scooping up a few of the meat chunks, and giving a whistle through pursed lips. Proffering the meat to the invisible horses, she waited a handful of seconds, before underarm tossing the first chunk through the air.
There was a brief splashing in the pond, but her throw appeared to have been good as the hunk of meat disappeared in a single moment, with just a small spattering of blood meeting the water.
The process was much the same for the rest of the bucket - the Thestrals were a small herd, only about half a dozen strong, but the vast majority were adults, two had been a young pair who were about one or two years from being breeding age, but the little foal was a new addition to the group. That meant that it didn’t trust her yet, she had to build that trust up.
Which is why it was such a delight when the foal splashed its way through the water to her of its own accord. Crouching down to offer it a chunk from her hand, she was pleasantly surprised as it nipped its beak forwards and grabbed the meat, splashing away and tossing it around in its mouth for a little, ripping it apart, before finally finishing the song and dance by swallowing it.
The rest of the feeding, by contrast was utterly uneventful, tossing the remainder of the meat to the herd before washing her hands free of blood in the stream. Picking the empty bucket up with her hand this time, Steph flicked her wand at the chained bucket and uttered the same phrase as before. "Wingardium Leviosa."
Climbing back up the embankment, she made her way back out of the forest, walking along the dirt path as she glanced into the paddock to her left. As expected, the magnificent white Unicorn, Maevel, was waiting for her, tussling her mane as if she were frustrated by the wait. All that Steph could respond with, however, was a soft chuckle, reaching out and gently rubbing the Unicorn's neck. "Easy, easy. I know I'm a bit late. We've got a new Thestral foal, needed to be hand fed."
The Unicorn dipped her head a little, as if trying to convey that it understood as it stared at her with one eye. Taking the cue, Steph guided the chained bucket over into the neighbouring paddock and twisted her wand, spinning it onto its side. The motion prompted the bucket to start shaking once more, clearly the motion had disrupted the immobilisation charm, resulting in the cabbages returning to activity.
The Unicorn gave a soft whinny of what was almost satisfaction. She supposed it gave the Unicorn something to do - a reason to be active.
A quick flick of her wand and the intonation of a new spell - one she had been practicing. "Relashio!"
The conjured chains burst off the bucket, disappearing into nothingness as the Chomping Cabbages practically shot from the bucket, knocking away the wooden lid and charging across the paddock. A heartbeat, Maevel was in hot pursuit, hooves thundering down upon the grass, kicking up tufts of dirt as she chased down the fleeing cabbages one by one, trampling them underfoot or goring them with her horn, wheeling back only to feast upon them for a short period.
It was strangely majestic in an almost terrifying way, watching a Unicorn hunt. A single blow from either her horn or hooves could be fatal to a person, let alone a cabbage.
Normally she would have spent more time around the paddocks, but today was not a normal - today was the start of Hogwarts, and so Stephanie levitated the bucket and lid back over the fence, stacked one inside the other, and took off back for the cottage.
She practically threw the empty buckets back onto the bench, taking the slice of toast from the counter where it had been left for her, and darting upstairs, even as amused chuckles followed her up. Forget decorum - Hogwarts awaited!
There was something surreal about London.
She had never been before - not into muggle London for any prolonged period at the very least. But the sheer scale of Kings Cross St Pancras station was just.. Mind numbing.
There were thousands of muggles surrounding her and her mother. Normally, father would have been there with them, but he had understandably taken off once he learned of the Thestral Foal - Stephanie could understand that. It was a little sad not having him there, but she didn't need him - the baby Thestral may very well.
"Oh - Freya. I didn't expect to see you here."
Mother turned at the intonation of her name, and her lips pulled into a polite smile. "Sirius, how lovely. I presume you're here for the same reason?"
Stephanie turned, taking in the sight of the man in the maroon suit, with shaggy black hair and almost roguish grin plastered across his features. He looked decidedly charming, almost aristocratic, but even Steph could tell that the man had been a fighter at some point, even if she hadn't know that he was the head Auror. He had that alertness to him - casual as it may have been, he was alert regardless.
And he had good reason to be. Standing next to him was a boy her age, one who even she knew by sight. Though his public appearances had been rare, Stephanie Scamander knew Harry Potter, even if he probably didn't know her.
A gentle hand squeezed her shoulder, mother's voice low, quiet. "Come now Stephanie."
"Lord Black, Heir Potter-Black." Certain formalities had to be observed, as mother had just reminder her, and so Stephanie dipped her head to Sirius in lieu of a more formal greeting, even as the man waved his hand.
"No need for that. Your mother and I are old acquaintances, Ms Scamander. Call me Sirius." Sirius fixed her mother a grin that was almost rakish, perhaps prevented from being such solely by decorum and standards. "I've been meaning to get in touch, but there just isn't the time these days, what with the Wizengamot and Fudge being…"
"Themselves?" Harry piped up, giving Sirius a grin, one that the man reciprocated as he gave Harry a sideways hug.
"Something like that." Sirius clapped his hands softly. "Now! We should get to the platform. I'm surprised to see you on the muggle side, Freya."
Mother's smile became somewhat more strained. "Theseus was busy this morning with a Thestral. He seems to have forgotten I didn't attend Hogwarts."
"Ah, no matter. I'll show you the way." Stepping forwards, Sirius lead the small party, with mother a few steps behind him, leaving her and Harry freaking Potter to take up the rear, pushing the trolleys with their school things. She couldn't help herself - what girl could in that situation - shooting him a handful of surreptitious looks when she thought he wasn’t watching.
Almost a heartbeat later, Harry let out a small sigh. "I am right here, you know?"
Colour shot to her cheeks, and the jacket she was wearing became uncomfortably warm at the flush. It had been pretty stupid in hindsight - he was a person, not an animal, her approach to interaction with them wouldn’t work in the slightest.
What was it kids her age talked about?
"Sorry.. I didn't mean to stare - well I mean I kinda did, but well. I don't get to meet many people my age." Harry glanced at her now, and she felt the sudden onset of the uncomfortable scrutiny that she had been directing at him a moment ago. On his face was a small frown.
"Why's that?"
"Mother and Father don't like guests that much. Too many new people upsets some of the more temperamental animals, especially Hendrag and his brood. Not to mention its full time work." Harry's frown deepened further as they swerved to pass by a muggle family talking loudly in a foreign accents, seemingly chastising a poor staff member for not speaking 'American'.
"I would imagine rearing magical beasts is a busy process - but who is Hendrag?"
A smile pulled at her lips - he had changed the conversation to something she was not only intimately knowledgeable about, but also far more comfortable with. Evidently, he didn't share her lack of social awareness. She couldn't help the slight increase in speed as she almost rambled her reply.
"He's an Acromantula - we breed them for the silk companies, and sell the nesting brood parents once they mature. They'd be expelled from the nest otherwise, so we just save them from escaping into the wild." Harry's frown turned into a look of confusion.
"Acromantula?"
"Big spider. Very big, very dangerous spider." Sirius pipped up from the front of their group, looking back over his shoulder, wand in hand. A simple motion from his wrist and a slight daze came over Steph for a moment, something she shook off in a second. Giving Sirius a searching look, she received a grin in return. "Notice-me-not. Never hurts to have added precautions around here - what with so many muggles."
"So this is it? The entry?"
Staring at the brick wall in front of her, Stephanie felt almost a fool asking the question, but at the same time she felt it was reasonably valid. Mother was giving Sirius a firm look - one that provoked no argument, just a simple question, silently.
"Yep - this is it."
"This is a wall."
"Just because it’s a wall, my dear Stephanie, doesn't mean it's not a door too." With that, Sirius stepped backwards into the wall and went clean through without even the slightest resistance. Stephanie blinked in surprise, but thought better of trying to contemplate exactly what was going on with the wall.
Mother was next, stepping through without a second thought, and so Stephanie swallowed her trepidation and pushed her trolly through into the solid brickwork. For a moment, everything was dark - it felt as it she had been dropped in the middle of an abyss - but then she was through.
Despite there being only a fraction of the people present at Magical Kings Cross, the platform was just as noisy. Children and parents alike raised their voices to be heard over one another, but all that resulted in was just more pandemonium.
Her trolly was quickly grabbed by Mother, who pulled her aside just as Harry pushed his through behind her. It was only then that she actually took in what was before her in all its glory.
A scarlet red locomotive, steam rising from its funnel, all adorned with marvellous gold and black trimmings. Behind it, what seemed like an endless line of coaches, each matching the colour scheme of the locomotive. Proudly emblazoned on the engine was the simple phrase 'Hogwarts Express'.
She stared for a couple of seconds - she felt that she had at least earned the right to do so by getting this far.
There was a sudden hand on her shoulder again, a squeeze given. "Stephanie. You behave yourself, do you hear me?"
Mother was looking down at her with a firm gaze that brokered no argument - she would have been foolish to do so either way. Disagreeing with mother would have been stupid, and besides, Hogwarts is where she was meant to spend the best years of her life!
The Hawthorne wand in her pocket hummed quietly to itself, like it had a tendency to these days. Mr Olivander had said that every wand chose its master or mistress - that they were allowing themselves to be wielded, instead of a wizard bending the wand to his or her desires. She had to wonder then - did that mean some wands had a predilection for dark magic? That they wanted to cause harm? Could they be used to tell the future?
She simply nodded in reply to mother, who straightened up a little and gave her a hug. "Good girl. Now off you go."
And it was with that simple farewell that Stephanie moved away from her mother, picking up her trunk and pulling it along behind her as she watched Sirius giving Harry a fierce hug, before tussling his hair. The difference in the send off was.. Striking.
But mother was a pureblood from Sweden. She had gone to Durmstrang. Her culture and heritage were much different from Sirius - who had clearly gone to Hogwarts and likely had been raised in England. Mother never was the most affectionate.
This was about the norm.
By the time they had found their own compartment and the train had started rolling, Steph had figured one thing out about Harry Potter. Despite being perhaps the most famous wizard in England, with perhaps the exception of the headmaster himself, Harry Potter was quite modest and inexplicably genuine. He didn’t wear fake smiles like politicians, nor did he wear a stony faced act to drive the public away like the Aurors.
He was just.. Harry.
It was refreshing to see someone like that.
"So your name is Stephanie?" A voice broke her from her concentration, and the girl in question blinked for a few seconds before focusing her gaze on the boy in the compartment with her. A brief flush adorned her cheeks
"Ah - yeah, sorry. I guess I didn't introduce myself." Awkwardly, she raised her hand from the seat and held it across to Harry, offering a hand shake. Instead, he grabbed her hand and gently raised it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles - a move that only deepened the flush across her cheeks.
The Harry Potter had kissed her knuckles like she was some pureblood Lady.
"Well met, Stephanie Scamander." With a grin that he had clearly learned from Sirius, Harry let go of her hand, leaving her briefly frozen in place, just long enough to be awkward. The moment, however passed, and she slipped back into the seat opposite, fighting her flush.
"You.. Didn't have to. I-.. Anyway!" Desperate for a change of topic, Steph cleared her throat and hurriedly searched for a different topic. One - handily enough - presented itself as a figure poked their head around the doorframe of the compartment sheepishly.
The boy wasn't anything overly remarkable by her standards - a little pudgy, showing hints of the baby-fat that had definitely receded over the past few months, but he was still somewhat betrayed by his nervous disposition. The sheepish look almost entirely vanished, however, by the time that both of them cried his name in unison, recognising the intruder as a friend.
"Neville!"
"Hey Harry! Oh - hi Steph, I didn't expect to see you both here." With slight embarrassment, he pulled his trunk into the compartment, shoving it next to those already stored. He hesitated only for a second, before taking a seat next to Harry, looking down the compartment at the window as to look at both of the other first years. "I didn't know you knew each other."
Steph gave Harry a knowing look, a small grin tugging at the right corner of her mouth, morphing her expression into a wry smile. "We didn't - but we do now."
"So - Neville. How's things?"
At Harry's comment, Neville gave only a slight shrug, somewhat half hearted - the same one that always made Steph a little disheartened to see. Even she could understand that Neville had a lot on his mind. "Not bad, not great. Gran agreed to get me a new wand, but only because she thought I might break my dads. Mr Ollivander said it was a good thing too - my Dad's wand was Ash. Apparently it wouldn't answer to anyone but him."
Stephanie blinked - caught off guard by the almost intimate comment. Her own wand felt somewhat more foreign in that moment - like she had suddenly realised she knew very little about the tool that was sitting in her pocket. Pulling her own wand out, she rolled it between her fingers as she looked at Neville. "So what's your new one?"
The boy briefly looked a little caught out, before he gave a soft cough. "Oh its uh, cherry. With a unicorn hair core. Mr Ollivander said it was apparently 'reasonably pliant'."
A moment of pause, before Neville turned the conversation around. "So what about your wand, Steph?"
Releasing the handle, she let the wand swing by her grip on the end, pivoting in place to show off the wand. It was a black thing, simple, but with some elegant carving to it, creating a utilitarian, yet strangely beautiful grip. "Hawthorne, 10 inches. Dragon Heartstring. Good for curses and healing magic."
With a slight flourish, she swung the wand back around, bringing it back into a two-handed grasp and continuing to roll it between the pads of her fingers. A brief glance out the window gave her the more familiar sights of green pastures and shrubs as they sped along the train line, just as Neville pushed the final member of their little to group to contribute.
"Oh - its Holly and Phoenix feather. Apparently its uh.. Well rounded." At the somewhat bashful admission, Steph felt her eyes widen almost comically. A Phoenix feather - not just any old wizard got a wand with a Phoenix feather core. Hell - Phoenixes only appeared in tiny numbers across the globe, with a only a handful of those even being bonded to a Wizard or Witch, and thus most likely to contribute a feather to a wandmaker.
She barely even noticed that Harry was very obviously keeping something from them both in that moment, but neither she nor Neville voiced their suspicions, possessing too much respect for their friend. Instead they allowed Harry to slip his wand away, with Steph clapping her hands on her jeans covered thighs.
"So - what house do you think you'll be sorted into?"
She didn't miss both Harry and Neville wincing almost simultaneously. In a way, it made her almost more eager to understand what had prompted that reaction. Deciding that Neville probably needed more time, she turned to Harry first, prompting him with a soft intonation of his name. "Harry?"
The Boy-Who-Lived was silent for a little while, before answering. "I dunno. Mum and Dad were in Gryffindor, but I don’t think I can live up to that. I don't know if I want to live up to that."
"I know what you mean Harry.." The softly spoken, yet no less impactful, comment came from Neville, who was staring down at his trembling hands, and the cherry wand that was clutched within. Steph could only stare at them, not unaware, but knowing she was unable to empathise with them in that moment. Two orphans, raised to idolise parents they would never truly know.
"Sirius was in Gryffindor too. He raised me on stories of my dad and his friends, including Pettigrew." A dark scowl spread across his features, one that Neville echoed almost instantly. Whilst the true extent of the man's offences was not known, Steph felt her jaw lock - she knew the name, the man who had betrayed the Potters to the Dark Lord. "I don't think Gryffindor is for me. I don't want to try living my Dad's life, only to end up a Pettigrew."
"I'm going to try for Hufflepuff." Neville's strangely sincere comment drew a blink from both of the compartments other occupants. Steph was simply surprised - most saw the house of the Badger as a place for the rejects, but every generation of Scamander's had been a 'Puff for the last four hundred years, with only a small handful who had been sorted into Ravenclaw. Neville willingly stating that he wished to be sorted there was somewhat.. Surprising, but it was one she could get behind. "Mum and Dad didn't.. End up like that, just for me to join them. I don't want to be a warrior. I don't have the smarts for Ravenclaw, and well, seven years with Malfoy is worse than Azkaban.."
But Harry looked as if he had come across an epiphany, slowly and softly drawing out the houses name, lips barely moving. Clearly deep in thought, he stared out the window for a few seconds, before he gathered his resolve and nodded firmly. "Hufflepuff then - Loyalty to the end. That's what I want my legacy to be. The Legacy of the Potters. Not one of a betrayed family, but loyalty to the end."
The firm nod the boys gave each other was rather touching, all things considered. It was almost like a resolute promise being renewed - a solemn agreement to look out for each other over the next seven years, and beyond that. It would have been rude to interrupt, but Neville broke the strangely intense moment, looking at her. "So Steph, what about you?"
She could only sigh, running her hand through her hair, brushing the ever irritating bangs from her face and tucking the longer ones behind her ear. Where did she want to end up? Or better, where would she end up? "I dunno. Not Gryffindor, I don't have the guts for that. I suppose any of the remaining houses. Family's been in Hufflepuff almost exclusively though."
"Well - we might all end up there, then." Neville gave a small grin, just as the door clicked open, prompting all three to direct their gazes at it.
"Anything from the Trolley, dears? It’s a long way to Hogwarts." The amicable old witch pushing the cart gave them a warm smile, and Steph immediately went for the few galleons she had in her pocket.
After all - the witch was right. Food made the trip shorter.