Hogwarts
A hand gently grabs her wrist, and she looks up at Horace startled. He patiently explains, "You were about to add too much Dittany. It wouldn't have had disastrous consequences, but it would've ruined your potion.”
She winces a little and nods, quickly going about re-measuring it out and correcting the amount. When she has what she believes is the right amount, she glances questioningly up at Horace, who nods. Once she adds it he continues, "What's on your mind, Calanthe? You've been fairly distracted today."
She winces again, then dryly comments, "Probably not a good thing since I'm already not talented at Potions." The she sighs, "I came up with an idea to help the good werewolves, and it worked and Remus has been spreading it among them, though only after getting a magical vow not to let any werewolf in on it that abuses being one in the form of doing things like willingly turn other people or otherwise attacking other people, nor for them to abuse the idea in general. It's been helping, but I feel like more should be done…"
Especially since some of them had indeed chosen to not use the Fidelis so that the Werewolf Registry wouldn't, from the perspective of readers who couldn't take in the names of those who had used the Fidelis, end up filling with werewolves who abuse being one.
He nods, "I always thought it was utterly unfair, how the innocent ones are treated just because of some bad apples. But I'm not entirely certain what could be done, with all the laws and stigma against them. Most of them struggle just to find enough work to take care of themselves, much less afford the Wolfsbane potion that makes a better guarantee of them being safe than them locking themselves up or going somewhere remote."
She straightens sharply and turns to Horace, "That's it!"
Horace blinks and leans back in surprise, "What's it?"
She smacks her hand on the table, "The Wolfsbane potion! If I made a clinic or something to distribute it to them, then the access to it would increase! Especially since a clinic would undoubtedly have other clients, and therefore a profit margin I could cut into to pay for the Wolfsbane." Then she glances away to do the next step on her potion, "Hell, I could even put a section off to the side with a potion shop where not only could clients get any prescriptions without having to go somewhere else just to get them, but have a secondary entrance on the street so regular customers could go into the shop to get potions themselves, which would increase the profit margin and allow for more Wolfsbane."
He hums thoughtfully, "Not a bad idea, especially if you're fine with getting less profit."
She shakes her head, "Honestly, other than paying the employee's and other expenses, I'd probably just set a bit aside as something of an emergency fund for it and use the rest for the Wolfsbane."
Horace laughs lightly, "If you're that determined, it may be better to hire a couple Potion Masters. While it can be expensive and would require you to purchase ingredients, compared to the cost of constantly restocking all the potions and the Wolfsbane specifically, it'd be cheaper overall.”
She nods, then tilts her head thoughtfully, "How hard do you think it'd be to set up a potion ingredient farm that could support the clinic and shop as well as the Wolfsbane? It'd be even cheaper if I could just have access to my own ingredients rather than purchasing them. Well, I'd probably still have to purchase some of the more exotic ingredients, but if I used greenhouses to get the plant based ingredients year round, maybe with expansion and temperature control on the ones that wouldn't get ruined by the higher than usual ambient magic, as well as had creatures for the ingredients from them….”
He hums, "Wouldn't be a bad idea, and if you also sold ingredients then while some of the profit margin would have to go to paying employees and importing animals or seeds and the like, after the initial start up costs, it would definitely be cheaper to have your own source of the majority of the ingredients rather than having to purchase them all."
She hums in agreement then glances at him, "As far as the Potion Masters go, I take it you know some who might be interested given how you network? Because I still don't know a whole lot of people in the Wizarding World."
He smiles, "Certainly! I could get in touch with them and see who's interested? Especially since it'd be better to hire them before the clinic is done and operational since they'd need time to stock up on things, otherwise you may have to stock up on purchased potions at first."
She nods, "That's a good point."
He glances at her, "Any idea of where you'd put it?"
She hums thoughtfully, "If I could find a spot, somewhere on Diagon would be best for the potion shop, and it wouldn't be a bad location for a clinic. The offshoot alleys from Diagon would also work, but would be less preferable given the lessened foot traffic."
Horace gives a hum of his own, "I would suggest having Remus look into locations then."
She nods, then glances over at him, "Speaking of clinics, it didn't come up before, but that outdated law saying certified Healers can't treat non-magicals is bull. It's more in your Proxy work than tutor, but the way the Ministry is stilldistracted arguing with the non-magical government means no one has gotten around to it. I'd like you to start working on getting it overturned. I can get in touch with the Potter allies I told you about to get you some support, and I'm sure you've already done some networking of your own that might be inclined to help, but that law is outdated nonsense."
He nods in agreement, "Indeed it is at this point. Bringing it up may even help serve as a reminder that we need to reexamine some of our laws and serve as a push to get things moving."
She sighs, "Merlin, I hope so."
She looks over the report of how things were going in satisfaction. The clinic had been set up fairly quickly, and so far it's been an incredible success. More than enough to pay for everything her potion masters were missing for the Wolfsbane, despite the demand for it rising as more and more Werewolves found out about the service and that they were actually legitimatelyhelping. Even more so since she had gotten the idea to hire them to work the shop and ingredient farms, since it would be killing two birds with one stone by letting them get jobs.
It was necessary to hire part time workers to take over around the full moon, but any suspicion had been waved away with explanations that the clinic does help werewolves, so the 'regular' employees disappear during the full moon to help out with that. She, Remus, and Horace had also started looking into businesses that were willing to hire werewolves, for fair pay at that, and started putting together lists for werewolves to use as resources for job searching.
There had been some public murmurs against how determined the clinic seemed to be about helping Werewolves, and other so-called 'Creatures' like them, but given how highly the people thought of the 'Girl Who Lived' that had swiftly quieted almost into nonexistence with an interview with the Daily Prophet to make it clear that she wasn't some naive child, and she fully understood what a werewolf and other 'Creatures' were, and that the clinic was hers and acting on her wishes given just how hard life was for them, which she had explained in detail. That had also boosted how many places willing to hire got added to the list too, by how many business owners had shamefully written in to explain that they hadn't known how bad things were for them, and they were either hiring or looking to expand so would happily be added to the list willing to hire.
It had also given Horace and her allies an opening to start the reevaluation of laws, which Horace had kicked off with that archaic law about certified Healers not being allowed to treat non-magicals getting abolished, before turning their attention to the so-called 'Creature' laws. Privately, they were also hoping it would distract the Wizengamot enough to push Sirius' case further, but so far that hadn't happened.
She sighs in satisfaction, and Remus smiles at her, "Things going well?"
She nods, "Just a report on the clinic and the like. The demand for Wolfsbane is still rising, but with the popularity of the clinic, potion shop, and the demand for the ingredients from the farms also still rising, it's all working out well."
He smiles even wider, "That's wonderful. Hell, even though they didn't have them for long, I've even heard some murmurs of more people thinking about removing their Fidelis so as to help boost the understood percentage rate of how many werewolves are good people and how many are reprehensible criminals, some of which may abuse the power of being werewolves, but a majority of which are just criminals who happen to be werewolves as well."
She nods, "I'm glad it will still help relieve the pressure, especially on those who undoubtedly want to see if the trend of things getting better for werewolves continues before removing their Fidelis, though I feel a bit bad that it came so late as to practically be useless given the other things."
He shakes his head, "It wasn't useless. As you said, for one thing it helps those still to nervous who want to see if things will just go back to the way things were before you spoke up, and for another, there are those who have been so traumatized by the abuses heaped on them from being a werewolf that they do not ever want to be known again, and you gave them that. And also, you're the one who's pushing through those other measures to help. You going even further as well as attacking the root of the problem certainly doesn't invalidate the stop gap measure you suggested."
She nods slowly, then shakes herself out, "Anyway, we should get back to it, I need to learn this now."
Remus laughs, then teases, "Only because you insist on getting a year ahead of the theoretical work before you go to Hogwarts next year. And are also fighting tooth and nail to get a year ahead in your non-magical schooling. Despite the fact there are plenty of students who keep on top of both magical and non-magical education, usually through cram schools."
She eyes him dryly, "Maybe so, but most of those students don't have things like De Facto Lordships and all that family businesses or a proxy to a second family they're Heir of as well as other things to stay on top of with all of those classes. It's better if I get a year ahead so that if I need more time and need to put something aside for a bit, I'll have a full year before I lose being ahead."
Remus nods, "Fair enough. Anyway, back to the oh so wonderful world of Herbology."
He says the last part dryly and she snorts, "There's nothing wrong with the subject."
He nods, "No. It's perfectly respectable, but it's in neither of our interests lists, so."
She nods in agreement, and without anything else to add, they turn their attention back to the lesson.
She stares him down in annoyance. If there were any other wand makers in Britain of any repute, she'd go to them, but there weren't unfortunately. Even if he was an irritating old coger who was trying to insist on this stupid Holly and Phoenix feather wand and refusing to listen to her trying to tell him that it felt like… like a slimy hand raising from the depths and gripping her magic tight and yanking it to it. At the same time, there was a contrasting foreign sense of awe. One she knows immediately from her occlumency training with Andromeda as part of her Heiress training is not coming from her own mind.
Eventually she forces out a sharp breath, “Okay, fine, how much for the holly wand?”
He smiles in satisfaction, that strangely intense gleam in his eyes fading, “Seven Galleons, Miss Potter.”
She yanks them out of her pouch and drops them on the counter, then immediately brings that hand up to grip the other end of the stupid holly wand and without hesitation, snaps it in two, and she knows it's the right thing to do the moment that slimy grip disappears immediately. She meets his horrified expression with a deadpan stare and in an equally flat voice, “Oops. My wand seems to have snapped. I need a replacement.”
As she starts to lift her right hand to her left to put both halves in its grip, intending to toss it to the side, a wet gleam of red from inside the hollow divot where the Phoenix feather is catches her eye, so while she does tuck them together in the palm of her hand, she keeps her grip on them as she lowers them to her side, careful to keep the hollow up, so she can confirm her suspicions about the liquid later, rather than having it run out onto the floor.
Ollivander splutters in shock for a few moments, “You-! You snapped one of my wands!”
She raises an eyebrow, then nods down at the seven Galleons, “I paid for it. It may be your work but the moment I put those on the counter it ceased to be your wand. Now, a replacement wand?”
He scowls at her a bit, “Why, so you can snap more of my work?”
She shrugs and starts to turn away, “I have no qualms against going to a foreign wand maker. I only came to you originally because you have a good reputation. One that I see is misplaced. Good day, Mr. Ollivander.”
She ignores his spluttering and calls to come back as she leaves with Remus. She hands over the broken wand after they leave, “There's red liquid in the hallow. Is that…?”
He gets a serious expression as he accepts them and discretely lifts them up to his face, “Blood. Need to take it back and test it to know for certain whose it is, but… the suspicion I know you have, that it's your blood and is likely the source of that slimy feeling you were describing as it tried to force a bond when it's not suited to you is probably correct.”
She nods, “It doesn't bode well.” She shakes her head, “What's that manipulative bastard up to now? And how was he expecting to get away with that?”
Remus sighs, “I'd like to remind you that he intended for you to grow up ignorant. A muggle raised magical child without the occlumency training you have and the like that makes you more in touch with your magical core would not be likely to notice it, and even if they did, since they don't know any better, they could basically make up whatever vague BS they wanted and you'd have no real choice but to take it at face value. Especially with it coming from a man of Olivander's reputation and/or Dumbledore.”
She kicks a pebble on the ground, “That asshole's manipulations just grow deeper and deeper.”
Remus lets out a hum of tired agreement.
She gazes at the bright red train in excitement. She'd been ecstatic when she was finally old enough for a wand, though she was a little grumbly about not being allowed to use it yet, even if she understood that for the first three years it was a combination of the danger the lack of magical study could create in the younger students without having proper Professors watching over them or a proper Healer who specializes in the sort of injuries young magicals just learning may get and the fact the core was still growing and stabilizing.
She quickly steps out of the way of a group of redheads in a rush, utterly bemused since there's still ten minutes before the train departs. Shaking her head, she turns back to Remus, "I know I'll see you at Yule, but I'm gonna miss you until then."
He smiles and pulls her into a hug, "I'll miss you too cub. So much. But… honestly, while you've been meeting with allied Heirs every now and then, you really do need to spend more time around kids your age." He leans back to smile at her, "I know you're always busy as a bee, but make sure you have fun every now and then, okay?"
She smiles, "Okay." Then she glances back at the train, "I should go before I end up having to do a last minute rush."
He lets her go and gently pushes her towards the train, "That you should. I'll see you for the winter break."
She waves as she turns and heads for the train. After getting on, she begins making her way down, looking for a suitable compartment, waving at Heirs of allied Houses when she sees them. Eventually, she finds a good one with a grin, "Hey, Nev! Mind if I join you guys?"
Neville looks up from where he was sitting a little awkwardly with a girl she doesn't know, "Calanthe! Hi! Not at all!"
She enters, lifting her trunk up to the rack before tapping it with her wand. The brunette tilts her head, "What are you doing? You can't use magic outside of Hogwarts as a minor!"
She laughs as she sits next to Neville, reaching over to lean her phone against the windowsill as she replies, "Don't need to. My guardian set up the shrinking spell he cast to automatically end when I tapped it with my wand."
She blinks rapidly, deflating at that, "Oh. That's handy."
She nods, "Indeed it is." Then she turns to Neville, "How are the new plants doing?"
He beams, "They're doing great! Thank you again for them, they were an incredible birthday present!"
She smiles, "It's no problem Nev." Then her expression shifts a bit, "Did your grandma listen to me and Remus about at least taking you in to a wand expert to see that your dad's doesn't suit you?"
He nods, "Yeah, she was still grumbling about you two not knowing what you were talking about right up to Olivander telling her that I am not, in fact, suited to Dad’s wand. Especially when he dryly informed her that I'd be lucky to be able to pull off a simple wingardium leviosa by the end of my first year if she insisted on making me use it. Honestly, she was kinda horrified at how much she almost sabotaged me, but needless to say, Dad's wand was tucked away and I got my own."
She nods, "I'm glad to hear it. Honestly, I like your grandma, I do, but she can be so stubbo-"
She's cut off by the door sliding open to one of the redheads she'd seen in a rush earlier, "Um. Do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else I've seen so far is full…"
She glances at the other two, and upon getting shakes of their heads, turns back with a smile, "Not at all! Come on in and sit down."
He nods, "Thanks."
As he drags his trunk over, Neville gets up, "Do you want some help with that? It doesn't seem like your parents put weightless charms on it, and I imagine it'd be heavy and difficult to get into the rack."
The redhead glances over with a grateful expression, "No they didn't, so yeah, I'd appreciate it."
The two fight it up into the rack before taking their seats, Neville back next to her and the redhead beside the brunette. Ron glances around at them as he settles, "I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley."
She raises an eyebrow faintly in recognition. Her mom had said in her letter, and her parents’ portrait had backed it up, that the Weasley family was trustworthy in general, barring the fact they thought well of Dumbledore. On top of that, this was the boy Dumbledore had been attempting to set up a marriage contract with her for, not that it was his fault even if he knew.
She's pulled back to the present as the brunette glances over at him, "Hermione Granger, nice to meet you." Then she glances at them, "You?"
Neville shifts, "Well, I already introduced myself to Hermione, and Ron may know who I am, but just to be sure, I'm Neville Longbottom."
Ron nods, "Yeah, I thought as much."
Then he and Hermione turn to her, and she brushes hair over her shoulder to hide the spike of anxiety at having to reveal who she is, "Calanthe Potter-Black. A pleasure."
Hermione's eyes go wide, and Ron is right along with her, even as he also seems confused, "Potter-Black?"
She nods, "Sirius Black named me the Heir to the Black Family after a curse made him infertile."
Ron's expression darkens, "Probably just covering his tracks. Meant to name a proper Heir after You-Know-Who won, 'cept he never got to do it, now did he?"
She eyes him, "Not exactly. There's more to the situation than is known by the public."
Hermione leans forward in interest, "How do you mean? I read about him, but I don't see how it could be anything else."
She glances at Neville, who nods then takes over, "Evidence came to light a while ago that pointed to Sirius Black being innocent. Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has been working at the problem for a few years now from what my gran says, but she keeps getting stonewalled by people. Either because it suits them just fine for him to rot away in Azkaban, or because they don't want the Ministry to look so foolish as to have tossed Lord Black away without even a questioning, much less a trial."
Hermione looks horrified, and Ron looks like he may be sick, "Really?"
She nods, "Mm."
Hermione clenches her hands into her uniform skirt, which she was already changed into, "Should you really be going around talking about it so openly?"
She shrugs, "It's been kept hush-hush for years and not gone anywhere. Might as well try being loud about it and see if pressure from people and the fact it's already known so they're making themselves look foolish by refusing to give him a trial will get anywhere."
Hermione's brow furrows, "Yeah. It's a little scary isn't it? That they tossed someone away without even questioning them? What protects the rest of us?"
She sighs, "Well, at minimum we have the fact we aren't in a civil war and the sharp attention of the muggle government, so I doubt they'd get away with it a second time."
Ron shakes his head, "Still, that's bloody bonkers. Sirius Black innocent, and the government doing nothing? That's wild."
She nods, "Indeed. Let's not stick to such heavy topics though."
Ron shakes himself, "I can get behind that." He glances away, "So what house do you think you'll be in? I'm hoping for Gryffindor myself. My whole family's been there for the last few generations. We did have a Ravenclaw before that, but even when we had someone in another house here and there we still mostly go to Gryffindor."
Neville smiles shakily, "It'd definitely be nice to go to Gryffindor, since that's where my parents were, but honestly I think I'll be Hufflepuff."
Hermione eagerly takes to the new subject, "I'm also hoping for Gryffindor. I mean, after so many incredible wizards came from there, how could I not? Even Albus Dumbledore was in Gryffindor!"
She narrows her eyes, "Dumbledore isn't all he's cracked up to be."
Hermione and Ron both give her a confused look and Neville subtly elbows her to remind her to keep her mouth shut about him, "She doesn't trust all the hype around him. Always going on about how everyone has skeletons in their closet by the time they start getting older, especially by the time they're that age."
The other two get looks of understanding, and Hermione tilts her head, "I suppose that's fair. So what about you?"
She shrugs, "Ravenclaw."
Ron's eyes go wide, "Really?"
She nods, "Hoping so anyway. People tell me I probably can get into it, and I'm not fond of how Gryffindor and Slytherin automatically close doors for you."
Ron gives her a weird look, "Why would being in Gryffindor close doors? It'd only close doors related to Slytherin, wouldn't it?"
She sighs, "Not all Slytherins are evil, so it's better to leave the door open for those who are good people in that house. And anyway, even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff start looking at anyone in Gryffindor differently the minute you get sorted there."
Ron tilts his head, brows furrowed, "I… guess."
She shrugs, "Point is, I'd prefer a more neutral house."
Ron is still looking at her in confusion, but he shrugs and nods, "Fair enough."
That starts a discussion between herself and Hermione of the pros and cons of each house, but it's soon interrupted by the door opening on a blond boy. He looks around at them, "I hear Calanthe Potter is in this compartment. Is that true?"
She tilts her head at him, "Calanthe Potter-Black to be more accurate, and yes, I am."
He twitches, "Black? That's not…"
She smiles, "Their grandfather clearly never let your mom know that he never backed up Sirius' parents' disownment, and even named him the Heir. Sirius in turn named me the Black Heir. Considering how much you look like Lucius Malfoy, I assume you're Heir Malfoy? Your father sends me such… interesting letters." She smiles as he twitches again, "Which are of course, dutifully filed away given House Potter is meticulous with anything that may have relevance at some point."
He twitches a little harder, "Is that so? That's… interesting. Well! I had heard that you weren't raised in the magical world, so I was just wanting to welcome you back, but clearly that rumor was false. I'll be taking my leave then."
She smiles, "Mm. Good day, Heir Malfoy."
He twitches again, "Good day, Heiress Potter… -Black."
He swiftly leaves, no doubt running away to tattle to daddy dearest. Ron stares at her with wide eyes, "I don't think I've ever seen him run away like that. That was wicked."
She tilts her head, "Forgive me, but from my understanding, House Weasley and House Prewitt don't particularly… bother to educate their children on how nobles conduct themselves from what I hear. Is it true?"
He snorts, "Nah, we don't bother with that uppity nonsense. Why?"
She shakes her head, "Because some of that may have been because I had the upper hand, but you'd likely have a much easier time dealing with him and making him swallow his words if you did. It may suit you well to take lessons. I'd be happy to give you some, if you'd like." She glances over at Nev, "Or perhaps Neville would oblige depending on our Houses.”
He smiles, "Of course! Gran is always going on about House Weasley and House Prewitt forgetting their roots."
Ron mulls that over thoughtfully, "Huh. You really think it may help against Malfoy?"
She nods, "Absolutely."
Ron nods slowly, "That doesn't sound like a bad idea then…"
She gives him, and Hermione since it would suit her to know what to expect from Heirs and the like and how to conduct herself around them, a brief crash course on nobility while doing her best not to overwhelm them. After she's covered the basics, she and Neville promise to do their best to help them keep from unintentionally making fools of themselves before they can learn more, though they warn them that it may be a bit difficult depending on House placements, then the topic meanders.
Nothing huge comes up as they chat and get to know one another, though it's rather relaxing after Ron and Hermione get over the whole Girl Who Lived thing. Hermione actually ends up bringing up the question of her clinic and the way it helps werewolves and other 'Creatures', which alone takes up the last couple hours as they discuss the public view on them vs how they actually are. Which also brings up the way Hermione tends to take everything in books at face value. By the time they realize they're pulling to a stop, the stubborn girl is still trying to argue biased points she's read in books, so she just recommends a couple that are both reputable and that she should compare what they say to the ones she's read as they get up to head out.
Before she leaves, she collects the magic resistant, and powered, smartphone she'd gotten from where she'd left it on the window sill. They'd started getting popular a few years ago(1), and even though there wasn't any service out here in Hogwarts, which she'd been expecting, having no service doesn't stop her from recordingvideo with it, which she'd been doing out the window for the entire ride, with a magically space expanded memory to hold it all, hence why it had been on the window sill.
She keeps holding it up as she steps out and sweeps her gaze across the platform they've stopped at, her attention swiftly drawn to a giant of a man calling out, "First years! First years over here!" As the platform begins to empty, he calls out, "C'mon, follow me." He lets out one last call, "Any more First years?" When no one else steps forward, he turns to them and gestures for them to follow as he starts down a path, “Mind your step, now! First years follow me!"
As they start down what seems to be a fairly steep and narrow path, she can't help but feel irritated at how hard it is to see given how dark it is. Honestly, would it have killed them to put some lights along it? Someone could get seriously hurt!
She's already working herself into a Mood, when the giant man calls over his shoulder, "You'll all get your first sight of Hogwarts in a sec, just round this bend here."
It's barely out of his mouth before noises of impressed delight ring out as they come across a lake blackened by the night reflecting a large, and admittedly beautiful castle lit up from the light in its many windows. She's pulled from her admiration by the giant man calling out, "No more than four to a boat!" He points as he says it, drawing attention to the cluster of smaller boats in the water. She quickly climbs into one with her train compartment companions. Once everyone's settled, the man calls out from his boat, which he has all to himself given his size, "Everyone in? Right then. FORWARD!"
At his shout, the boats all start moving at the same time, starting across the lake. It isn't long before she feels a wave of magic washing over her and settling into her core, clinging like tar. The sensation makes her shudder, and given she feels them too as they move through the wards slightly after, she knows that's not it. She's still puzzling over what that feeling could be when the giant man snatches her attention again, making her realize that they've reached the other side when she looks up as he calls out, "Heads down!"
She doesn't bother, given his sheer size means just because he has to duck doesn't mean they do. Something proven correct when other than the curtain of ivy itself the boats pass through, nothing touches her head. It isn't much longer before they're through the tunnel behind the ivy and pulling up to an underground dock, the only spot of interest during the entire time being her having to catch Neville's toad Trevor before he gets away. Again. She'd already done it once on the train. She can't help but feel a bit amused at how sneaky the little guy was.
Nevertheless, it isn't long before they're heading up the stairs and with a knock from the giant man's massive fist, are being met by a tall stern faced woman. The man nods, "The first years, Professor McGonagall."
The newly named McGonagall nods, "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She pulls the door wide, letting them into a rather large entrance hall. Large enough that she's pretty sure an averaged sized muggle house could fit inside. She leads them across the stone floor, ignoring the door to the right where they can hear hundreds of voices coming from inside, and over to a smaller side chamber.
She turns to them, sweeping her gaze over them all, "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony, because while you are here your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room."
"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rulebreaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourself up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Her gaze lingers on another student's crooked tie, and while they would've had time to fix it, she's suddenly very glad to have noticed both Neville's crooked cloak and the smudge on Ron's nose. That strict gaze feels heavy even as it merely sweeps over her. She'd hate for either Nev or her tentative new friend Ron to be scrutinized under it.
She sweeps from the room and Hermione fidgets off to their side, "How do you get sorted? There wasn't anything in any book I could find."
She rolls her eyes, "That's because a lot of people think if they tell us before that it'll skew the results. It doesn't. It's nothing more than a Wizard's Hat the founders enchanted to continue sorting for them after they were gone. It reads your mind, though it's enchanted to keep everything but it's measure of what House you belong to secret."
She relaxes, and she's not the only one, given the way her voice had carried in the rather silent side chamber, "That's it? Just put on an enchanted hat? No- No test of any sort?"
She shakes her head, "Nah, just the Sorting Hat. And even then, it-"
She's cut off by someone crying out in alarm. When she turns towards the noise, it's nothing more than a group of ghosts, about twenty from what she can tell, one of which looked like a somewhat overweight short monk, "Forgive and forget I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"
He's cut off by a ghost wearing rather old fashioned clothes, with ruffles at the neck and wrists, "My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost- I say, what are you all doing here?"
The last was spoken as he seemed to notice them, and she tilts her head, "We're waiting for our Sorting."
The one in ruffles nods in understanding, as the monk looking one smiles, "New students? Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old House, you know. Nick here was Gryffindor."
McGonagall's voice cuts in, "Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."
The ghosts float off and through a wall, some waving at them, others just leaving. As they all turn back to McGonagall, she sweeps her gaze over them, raising her eyebrow before nodding firmly, "Now, form a line and follow me."
They line up and follow after her, though she notices the group is significantly more relaxed, which was probably why McGonagall had seemed a little surprised. As they enter the Great Hall, she tilts her head up to get a look at the famous ceiling. Directly behind her, Hermione mutters, "Oh wow. I read about how it was enchanted to look like the sky, the real sky, in Hogwarts A History, but… seeing it really is something else."
She hums in agreement. It isn't long before they're grouped at the end of the hall near the raised platform where the teachers were sitting. It's not long at all before McGonagall is placing a stool down and the Sorting Hat on top. For a few seconds there was silence, then the tear near the brim opened and the hat began to sing a rather straightforward song about how it's the one to sort them into each House, as well as a brief description of them. The hall applauds when it's done, and McGonagall steps forward with a long roll of parchment and sweeps another look over them, "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." Without further ado, she flicks a look down at the parchment, "Abbott, Hannah!"
She leans over to Hermione, "G is before P. After you're sorted, could you take my phone so I can keep recording?"
She looks over, "Yeah, sure."
They wait idly as their fellow students are sorted until Hermione is called up. It's not as fast as the average student, but it doesn't take very long before she's sorted into Gryffindor. She glances up at McGonagall, "Hold on a moment please Professor."
McGonagall gives Hermione a strange look and there's a bit of murmuring from the crowd, but she doesn't let it stop her from quickly moving back over to her and getting her phone. A lot of people who are clearly up to date on the muggle world, either because they're muggleborns or half-bloods who's families keep in touch with it, straighten up in recognition as Hermione accepts her phone. More than a few of them start piping up, backing up Hermione's request to wait, just until she gets settled in her seat.
Though clearly thrown, and she's certainly not the only one, McGonagall does hold off on calling up anyone else until Hermione is settled and holding up the camera towards the Sorting, "Okay! We're ready to continue!"
McGonagall looks around at the other students who had backed up Hermione's request to wait, getting various nods and thumbs up, so shaking her head with a bit of a confused look, she continues the Sorting. There's a handful of students before McGonagall calls out, "Potter, Calanthe!"
She moves forward, but pauses before sitting in the stool, "There must have been a small error on my parchmentwork Professor, it's Potter-Black."
McGonagall blinks at her in surprise, "No, it was noted down, but it was suggested that it may make you… uncomfortable."
She shakes her head, "I appreciate the thought Professor, but there's no need."
McGonagall nods in understanding, so without another word, she settles on the stool and McGonagall sets the Hat on her head. Almost immediately, she feels a brush against the Occlumency shields that Andromeda had taught her as was standard in Heir training. She lowers them, and immediately hears a voice echo in her head, 'Thank you. It can always be quite the hassle when someone decides not to let me in. Now, let's see what we have here…'
She thinks firmly, 'Ravenclaw, please.'
The hat hums, 'You're certainly well suited, but… Ah, no, you wouldn't accept anywhere else, would you? Since it doesn't suit your goals.'
'No I would not.'
The Hat chuckles, 'Stubborn as a Gryffindor. You realize, while you aren't unintelligent or anything of the sort, Ravenclaw is my last choice for you? As I said, it's not due to lacking any of the traits of House Ravenclaw on your part, but just that your other traits are even stronger. Cunning and ambitious enough to be the epitome of a Slytherin makes it my first choice, brave enough to impress Godric himself makes it my second, and you've certainly shown just how loyal and hardworking you are already, given how viciously you go after those who stole your treasure and the way you fought to get ahead in both your magical and non-magical studies to give yourself breathing room.'
She narrows her eyes slightly, 'If I'm not unsuited for it, then I want Ravenclaw.'
The Hat sighs slightly, 'Yes, yes. I can tell you won't be persuaded. So as per your decision I'll make it-'
Then out loud the Hat calls out, "Ravenclaw!"
Utter surprise sweeps the hall as McGonagall tugs the Hat off her head, a bit slower than the previous few times, which is easily explained by the fact she seems just as surprised as the rest of the hall. As she starts down the steps, the Sorting Hat calls out to her, "Miss Potter-Black." She turns back to it, "I look forward to seeing what you do. I foresee you shaking this school to its very foundations. And likely the entire British magical world. Given both need a good shake up, I eagerly anticipate seeing how the future plays out."
She smiles at it, then turns to continue making her way to the second table on the left(2), before she sits down on the side with the Gryffindor table, quickly accepting her phone back from Hermione.
Thankfully, the buzz from her Sorting means McGonagall's doesn't resume until a few moments after she gets her phone back and up, just in case any of the students left had muggle parents who'd like video of it, even if it doesn't mean as much to them since they don't have a history with the Hogwarts Houses and the like.
When Ron is sorted into Gryffindor, she looks over at Neville, who nods acceptance to her quiet request to keep an eye on him and Hermione to keep their promise about helping them not make fools of themselves until they can learn more about noble etiquette.
After the last of them are Sorted, Blaise Zabini into Slytherin, Dumbledore stands up from his golden throne like chair in the middle of the table as McGonagall's takes the stool and Hat away, "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."
After his rather… baffling opening speech, if it can even be called that, he sits back down as food appears on the tables. She glances at an older sibling of Ron at the Gryffindor table behind her, "Just to double check, is that the end of it?"
He nods, "Until after dessert and he makes his actual speech, yeah."
She nods, but given there will be more later, she just pauses the recording after setting it down instead of stopping it entirely, "Good to know."
His twin leans closer, "What is that anyway?"
She glances up from where she'd been loading up her plate, "Some muggle technology. It lets you record video."
Another first year, Seamus she thinks his name was, leans across the Gryffindor table towards her, "Can I get a copy of that? Mum and dad will be so happy to see me sorted with their own eyes."
She nods, "Of course. It's the whole reason I asked Hermione to bring my phone down and we asked McGonagall to wait a moment while she got settled. It wouldn't be from the perspective down here though, since you got sorted before Hermione."
He laughs, "That's fine! They won't care about that, they'll just be happy they have it on video!"
Another sibling of Ron, who looks older than the twins, leans forward in interest, "What exactly is video? How could that possibly let them see the Sorting for themselves?"
She hums, "It's, mmm, how to explain this to a pureblood… So, a video is kinda like a wizarding photo, where it moves and stuff, except it's also got sound of what was going on at the time."
His eyes go huge, "You're joking!"
Hermione shakes her head, "She isn't."
He still seems dubious, so with a shrug she fully stops the recording then pulls it up from her gallery, she quickly jumps past the train journey to the Sorting, then leans across the gap with her phone tilted towards them, turns the audio on, and let's them hear and see for themselves as Hannah gets sorted in the video.
Their jaws drop, and it's the oldest of the bunch who responds, "That-! How-?! That's amazing! How does it do that?"
She laughs, as she leans back to her food, quickly switching it back to her camera so she can start recording again easily, "That's a much more technical question than you realize, even if using it is really simple."
He blinks quickly as disappointment washes over his face, "Oh. So I guess it's kinda the muggle equivalent of mastery level stuff?"
She hums, even as she watches Neville gently stop Ron from eating like a barbarian. For the third time that she's seen, at that, "Not exactly? I mean, if we're talking about building and programming a phone, yeah, it's kinda mastery level, but just the basics of how it works? No, not really. I could get you some books on it, if you'd like?"
He smiles, "I would, please. Dad's fascination with that stuff… suddenly makes a lot more sense."
She laughs, "Mm. Muggles are way more clever than a lot of people give them credit for, and their technology is amazing."
A slightly older Ravenclaw leans towards them with a sigh, "Man, I wish they'd had magic hardened tech when I started. I'd have loved to get my own Sorting recorded."
She gives her an apologetic smile, "Sorry you missed out. Wish I could help."
The girl waves her off, "It's fine. Nothing you can do about it. I'm Penelope Clearwater by the way, I'm a fifth year Prefect, so I'll be one of the two showing you to the dorms later."
She glances at the head table, "You guys said it's just the closing speech left, right?"
Penelope nods, "Yeah, not much of interest there usually though."
She smiles, "Maybe, but I wanted to get the full experience on video, so I even took advantage of having magically expanded memory on my phone to record the whole train ride here."
Penelope blinks rapidly in surprise then smiles, "Fair enough! Will you be recording heading up to the dorms the first time too then?"
She nods, "Yeah, undoubtedly."
Penelope nods, "If you're wanting the full 'First time at Hogwarts' experience on video, you may wanna record the schedules being handed out tomorrow morning too, and maybe even the first lesson of each class."
She smiles, "That's a good idea. Actually, I've been thinking of even getting a body camera. Partly so I could get footage of life at Hogwarts without having to constantly be holding my phone up, you know?"
Penelope smiles back, "That's not a bad idea! You should totally do it!" Then she grins a bit, "Though, if you do that, don't be surprised if a bunch of muggleborns and half-bloods end up begging you to send them a copy so they can show non-magical parents what Hogwarts is like."
She smiles, "Part of the point actually."
Penelope laughs and they start chatting about various ideas along the lines of it. She hardly even notices dinner passing, and only realizes they're hitting the tail end of dessert when Penelope glances up, "Get your camera up. Looks like dessert is almost over, and you wouldn't wanna miss the end of feast speech."
She's already holding her phone up and hitting the recording button by the time Penelope is done. The desserts disappear and Dumbledore climbs to his feet, "Ahem. Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." He gives an amused look at the laughing Weasley twins at that, "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
She blinks quickly at the last part, even as she feels a little incredulous at the glance he flicks at her as he says it. Does he expect her to go to whatever it was or something? Unless it becomes important, there was a snowball's chance in hell at that. She refuses to die until she's at least seen Hei again. A scattered few laugh at the warning, and she glances over at Penelope as she asks, "I assume that last part isn't standard?"
Penelope shakes her head, "Not in the slightest. It's strange, he usually gives us a reason why we aren't allowed to go somewhere."
She tilts her head, "He didn't for the forest."
Penelope waves her hand, "It's because it's super dangerous, which is well known. He expects older years to explain to younger years rather than drag out the end announcement."
The noise dies down a few beats later and Dumbledore continues, "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"
Dumbledore flicks his wand and an incredibly long golden ribbon flies out before twisting into words. She notices the other teacher's smiles have become rather fixed, and it's obvious why with Dumbledore's next words, "Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!"
She grimaces as hundreds of voices start singing it with different tunes and tempos. She can fully understand the teacher's feelings for it now. Thankfully, the song is short enough that most of them don't take too long, barring the Weasley twins, who'd been going with some slow funeral march, which Dumbledore actually conducts rather than trying to hurry them along or get them to stop. She supposes if nothing else, by then they're the last ones singing, so they aren't clashing with the hundreds of different tunes and tempos from before.
Dumbledore wipes at his eyes when they're done, "Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
She gets up with the other students as Penelope gathers the first year Ravenclaws up, before she glances over at her with a smile, "Still recording then?"
She nods, and Penelope laughs, "Good, you won't want to miss the grand staircase."
She's a bit confused, but follows along as Penelope leads them out of the Great Hall. She leads them up the main staircase into a large area full of stairs. Her eyes go a bit wide as she sees them moving around, but she doesn't dally. For the first bit, the Gryffindors are with them, but they break off to go their own way fairly soon.
It isn't too long before Penelope is stopping in front of a door with no handle or keyhole, but a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. Penelope gestures to it, "So, unlike the other Houses, Ravenclaw doesn't have a password. You use the knocker, and it gives you a riddle, and you gain entrance by answering correctly. Don't worry too much though, something that's a bit of a House secret is that the technically correct answer doesn't actually matter. What matters is that your response is well reasoned. It's a House secret because that trips up others that try to sneak in since they are always stuck on trying to find the correct answer." She winks, and they all laugh a bit "Heck, you can even get it to open by countering with a witty on-topic joke, since we are the House of intelligence andwit.”
She shakes her head, "The riddle given to the Prefect escorting the first years is always the same so we can illustrate our point. So for instance..."
Then she turns and uses the knocker. Its beak opens almost immediately and a musical voice emerges, "What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs during the day, and three in the evening."
Penelope grins, "Not me! I'm not old yet!"
The knocker huffs a small laugh, "True."
Then the door swings open. She looks up at Penelope, "Isn't that the infamous Sphinx riddle? The answer is a person, right?"
Penelope nods, "Technically that's the correct answer, yeah, but like I said. It'll accept anything well reasoned, or technically correct, even if it's not the actual correct answer. The whole reason it's three in the evening is because it's referred to needing a cane in old age, and like I said, I'm not old yet, so the answer of 'not me' is technically correct, and therefore, acceptable. But you could just as easily say things like, ‘Well, not a snake, given they have no legs.’ and it would accept that too.”
She shakes her head, more than a bit amused. They all settle down on the various couches and chairs at Penelope's guidance, and it's not long after that a Professor comes in. He's incredibly short, so she's fairly certain she knows which one he is. Something that's confirmed when he smiles and begins speaking, “Welcome to Ravenclaw. I'm Professor Filius Flitwick, and your Head of House. I'm aware you're all tired, but there were just a few quick things I wanted to go over for you all, so this is something of a… mini House meeting. Ravenclaw is known for its intelligence, and this often puts pressure on those in this House to do well in all of their classes. That is not required or even expected. No one is good at everything. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses.”
He gestures to the mostly empty board hanging on one of the walls, “When the scheduling is worked out, study group times and what class they're specifically covering will be posted on the board, please feel free to attend any of them, as they are there to help you with your classes. Furthermore, if you are particularly struggling in a subject, please do not hesitate to come speak to me, and I'll see if we can't work something out to assist you. When all is said and done, I would honestly be happy if you just got acceptables in all of your classes, though obviously the better you do the more opportunities you'll have later in life, so please don't take that as me telling you to slack off or anything of the like. Finally, if you have any questions or problems, feel free to go to a Prefect or come speak to me about them.”
He smiles around at the yawning students, “I just wanted to go over those before it sunk in that you were in Ravenclaw and started feeling pressure to excel in everything or that you had to solve all your problems yourselves. Now that I have, you're more than welcome to head up to bed. The girls' dormitories are on the left after you get up the staircase, the boys’ are on the right.”
He nods at them all, then heads out. With a yawn, she ends the recording bidding Penelope and the other students goodnight before she heads up to bed.
Hei smiles at the letter from Calanthe excitedly talking about her heading to Hogwarts and her Sorting into Ravenclaw, as she'd been hoping. His smile slips as he finishes and his gaze drifts down to the note he'd been slipped from one of his handlers.
The trail of destroyed Syndicate bases and arrested agents had continued sweeping from country to country, occasionally managing to nab someone higher up, though usually they managed to stay in the clear. Normally, he'd be ecstatic about it, but a somewhat… worrying pattern was forming. Each of the countries being hit were ones he'd been posted in, however brief. Given how much he was reassigned, that in and of itself wouldn't be worrying, but the trail was… following his exact path.
Whoever was behind this seems to be following him.
His eyes slip close in vague pain. Whoever it was, they were doing a damn good job giving these Syndicate bastards what they deserved, and if the circumstances were different, he may not even mind them catching up to him, but… With Calanthe's life at stake, he could not afford to be captured, since the Syndicate may very well kill her just to tie up loose ends if he got captured and they decided he'd outlived his usefulness.
It pains him, given how good of a job they were doing and to the Syndicate of all people, but if they caught up to him and tried to arrest him… He'd avoid it at all costs, but he may end up having to kill them.
He hates the very idea, given they share the same enemy, even if he was currently being forced to work for them. Calanthe's life comes first though, and he would not risk it for whoever was behind this.
To that extent, he sincerely hopes they get better at snagging the higher ups. If they do, the Syndicate may very well collapse, and if it did, he'd be free.
Free to abandon these bastards. Free to return to Calanthe.
Gods, he misses her so much.
He sighs tiredly as his gaze returns to her letter and he fingers the corner. The handwriting was so close to the graceful elegance on his neck nowadays, though there was… something he couldn't quite put his finger on missing. It just made the ache at their separation worse though.
Knowing he'll just spiral further and further if he stares at that graceful handwriting without reading the contents themselves to distract him, he pushes himself to his feet and heads down the hall.
A small smile plays over his lips as he enters the combat room. Calanthe's gifts had eventually ramped up to getting him his own space expanded trunk, and even breaking family secrecy a bit after getting a sworn oath from Remus to keep it secret so she could have him make another mannequin with the Potter memories for him to be able to continue to honing himself with.
Fighting it always helped with his moods at their separation, both at having an outlet and from the warmth the trunk and combat mannequin gift brought him.
That, and her insistence that he actually useit, so that his higher skill level gives him better odds of surviving the Syndicate until he can possibly find a way to get free of them.
He rolls his shoulders as he approaches the mannequin. That was the hope, wasn't it? Freedom to return to Calanthe? He was doing his best to look into it without tipping off the Syndicate, but he hadn't told Calanthe since he didn't want her to falsely get her hopes up, especially since every possibility he was finding would take years to maybe work out.
He has to survive long enough first of course. One step at a time. One day at a time. Hopefully eventually leading him back to Calanthe. Just one step at a time.