Chapter 2
15 years later
As she walks, Hermione closes her eyes and breathes deeply. She knows this path like the back of her hand and has no need of her eyes. She knows each rock, each tree, each dip in the path. The zigzags up the mountain are second nature and she doesn’t even get winded anymore. She has walked up and down this path hundreds of times since her first day at Ilvermorny. In American wizarding schools, students are allowed to visit home as much as they want, and some students even choose to live at home and magically commute to school every day. Hermione was grateful that her family lived so close to the school and she was not forced to choose. She had her room at school where she spent most of her time, but she could simply walk down the mountain any time she felt the need, and even stay the night if she wished.
She opens her eyes and looks to her left. Nia Potter is next to her, a furrow in her brow as she stares fixedly ahead on the path. The brilliant sunlight streams through the leaves in patches, casting Nia’s face in a kaleidoscope of light and shadow, and making the intricate beading of her sari sparkle and shine. Nia knew that making the hike in a sari would be difficult, but it had been sent by her grandmother from India where it had been handmade by one of her cousins for the occasion. It was a gorgeous blue and red affair, the Ilvermorny school colors. Nia also wore a blue stone in her nose and a pendant covered in red jewels that hung high on her forehead. Even though she is only 11 and all arms and legs, Hermione’s eyes begin to fill with tears at how grown up she looks today.
“Hey. Nia. Earth to Nia!” When the younger girl still refuses to acknowledge her, she pulls out the big guns. “Petunia Potter!”
Nia jerks to attention at the sound of her hated full name. “Ergh!! What the heck, Hermione?”
Hermione just laughs. “Sorry. But you were on a different planet. Talk to me. How are you feeling?”
“Scared shitless. But don’t tell my mom I said that!” Nia says with terror evident in her voice. “Did you feel like this on your first day?”
Hermione took a moment to think back and try to remember how it felt to be 11 years old and on your way to the sorting ceremony. “Hmmm. I remember fidgeting. A LOT.”
“That’s it??” Nia asks, incredulous. “You were fidgety? Ugh!”
Hermione just snorts in response. She was used to Nia’s interruptions. “No, silly. If you want the story, you have to stop interrupting.” Nia uses the universal gesture for “my lips are sealed,” and Hermione continues. “I couldn’t sit still for days before the sorting. I would try to sit and study- I was sure that if I found just the right book, I would be able to figure out exactly which house I would be in and what type of wand I would get. You know me. I always think the answer can be found in a book.” The two shared a grin and a chuckle. “In the end I just had to hold my head high and step into the unknown. I still don’t know if I made the right choice that day. But I’m glad things happened the way they did. Hopefully you’ll feel the same when all this is said and done.”
Nia looks at her imploringly “Can you tell me the story again? Please?”
Hermione looks at her askance, but decides not to tease and simply gives the girl what she wants. “Fine. I’ll humor you. But I swear, I am NEVER telling you this story ever again. Got it? Ok. The walk up to the school felt like it took a month. And Ron and your obnoxious brothers kept jumping out of nowhere and scaring the crap out of me! But finally we made it to the top of the mountain. I’d never been all the way up there, and the view was so spectacular. We were having an early fall, so the trees were already changing colors and it took my breath away. I stood facing away from the school, taking in the view as we waited for my turn. When Professor Picquery called my name, it felt like I jumped completely out of my skin. I grabbed my parents’ hands and held them so tight it hurt. When we walked in the doors, I gasped so loudly that all the kids watching from the balcony laughed. It was bigger and grander than I had imagined, and the blue and crimson everywhere was so pretty. And then I noticed the statues. They’re not so bad once you get used to them, but that first time…” Hermione shudders.
“I went and stood where Professor Picquery told me to- right on top of the Gordian Knot that decorates the floor. For a moment, I was sure nothing was going to happen, and they were going to tell me that there had been some sort of grave mistake. That none of the houses wanted me, and that I would just have to go back to Mrs. Weasley’s school forever. But then, suddenly there was a cacophony of noise. I covered my ears and looked at Professor Picquery, utterly confused, but she was looking at me with such pride and excitement! When the sound died down, she told me that I had been chosen by all four houses, and that I was the first student this had happened to since it happened to HER 80 years ago! I was so confused. I had no idea what I was going to do. For all my researching, this was an outcome I had not let myself consider. I never thought Wampus would pick me. I could never see myself as a warrior. I had considered Puckwudgie for a while, but the two I’d wanted most were Thunderbird and Horned Serpent. Being friends with your brother and Ron certainly left me with a taste for adventure, but at the end of the day, I don’t think anyone was even remotely surprised that I chose Horned Serpent. Academics has always been my first love.”
“What’s it like choosing your wand?” Nia wants to know, still rapt with attention, despite the fact that she’d forced Hermione to retell this story approximately 900 times.
“Well, it’s true what they say. The wand chooses the Witch. I tried a few different ones and they were a disaster. Then the wand maker asked me to walk slowly among the boxes of wands. As I walked, I started to feel the need to go a certain direction. I followed the feeling and it got stronger. As I kept walking, a box started to shake. The wand maker ran forward and grabbed the box before it could topple everything around it. She took out the wand and handed it to me. Immediately my hand felt warm, and it just felt right. I gave it a swish, and a stream of beautiful colors burst from the tip. And that was that.”
Nia sighs mightily. “Can I see it again? Please!” she pleads. Hermione pulls her wand from her jeans pocket and hands it to Nia. “It’s SO beautiful!” she sighs.
“Thank you.” Hermione replies as she takes it back. She has to agree. Her wand is the prettiest wand she has ever seen. It was made of Aspen wood and was a beautiful white color, and it had been intricately carved with gilded whorls and celtic knots. It was exactly a foot long, and had a dragon heart-string core. Aspen wood was known for being extremely versatile for every type of spell except dueling. But the addition of the dragon heart string more than compensated for that. When Hermione dueled, it felt like her wand had a mind entirely its own, and she had never once been bested.
Just then, Nia’s brother Harry comes running up to them. “Sup, NeeNee?” Nia makes a disgusted face at this greeting. “Have you peed your pants yet? Ron had to change his pants three times before we made it up the mountain the first time.”
“UGH!!! You’re so GROSS!!! Ugh! Hermione, why are boys so obnoxious?” Nia whines.
“If I ever figure that out, I will let you know. But as of yet, no answers are forthcoming. Harry, stop torturing your sister. Besides, we all know you were the one running into the bushes to pee every five minutes, not Ron.” Harry has the grace to turn slightly pink at this.
“I’m actually looking for Reg. Have you seen him?” He asks.
“I saw him with Dennis a little bit ago. They were sitting on a rock, looking like they were planning something,” answers Hermione.
“That’s what my mom was afraid of. She sent me to make sure he doesn’t set the whole mountain on fire.”
Hermione and Nia both laugh at this and Nia answers, “Good luck with that, dude!” Harry grimaces and continues running back the way they had come. Harry’s little brother was a handful. Harry and Ron were certainly known for their pranks and escapades, but they were nothing to Ron’s older brothers Fred and George, and Regulus had idolized them since the day he was born. The irrepressible twins had taught Reg and his best friend Dennis Creevey everything they knew. It was strange now, looking back. The twins had always been so carefree and funny. They talked about starting the world’s best joke shop and becoming millionaires. But then, right before their 7th year, Charlie was hurt in a battle over in England. He came back to Massachusetts to recover and spend time with the family, but he had come back a changed man. He had a hollow, haunted look in his eye. It took him a couple of weeks to open up about the horrors happening back in England, but when he did it shook all of them to the core. Fred and George spent their last year at Ilvermorny with their noses to the grindstone for the first time in their life. They practiced defensive spells like their lives depended on it. Which they would, considering that two hours after their graduation party was over, they had taken a portkey back to England.
Hermione shakes herself from these dark recollections and tries to focus back on Nia. She was in the midst of an awkward phase, but Hermione knew that one day she would be stunning. Her grandmother’s Indian blood had manifested in different ways in the three Potter siblings. Harry looked the most like her. He had dark tan skin, high cheekbones, and thick black hair. He had taken a trip to India once when he was fourteen, and people were confused when he was unable to speak Hindi. The only feature he’d gotten from his British mother was her green eyes. Harry constantly got comments about his eyes. Regulus had black hair and dark brown eyes, but his face was as pale as a ghost, and his features were exactly like his mother’s. Nia had gotten, in Hermione’s opinion, the most interesting combination. She had tan skin and her grandmother’s incredible cheekbones, but she got her mother’s green eyes and red hair.
The late afternoon light streamed in chunks through the dense foliage above them. Still mostly green, the leaves were beginning to change into their Autumn clothes, and Hermione knew that in a few short weeks, the mountains would be a riot of color. Fall had always been her favorite season. The gorgeous colors on the trees, the sweaters, hot cocoa…
The nearby town of North Adams had had a symbiotic relationship with the school for decades now. Most of the no-maj’s knew about magic and wizards, and helped deflect attention away from the weird things that sometimes happened around wizarding communities, and were willing to help with anything the school and the small wizarding town needed. Meanwhile, the wizards and witches of Greylock Glen provided the no-maj’s with inconspicuous but useful potions to help with various illnesses and maladies. Hermione loved going into the quaint town and seeing all the beautiful decorations and participating in activities like fairs and trick or treating. Her parents had been absolutely appalled, after their first American Halloween, at the sheer amount of sugar Hermione had managed to come home with. Hermione had dressed as a witch, much to everyone’s amusement, and Halloween had been her favorite holiday ever since. She had been beyond excited when she had learned that Ilvermorny held a Halloween festival every year, with the students using the skills they were learning to try to conjure the best costume they could. Hermione had won first prize every year.
Soon, they made it to the top of the trail and the beautiful manor house came into view. It was a massive colonial style manor, five stories high, Sprawling across the top of the mountain in a wide U shape. Even though it was massive from the front, what you couldn’t see was that the building actually spread down the backside of the mountain, with balconies and apartments peeking out of the trees to take advantage of the spectacular view of the Appalachian mountains. The Horned Serpents’ house was on the lowest floor, almost entirely inside the mountain. The common room jutted out from the rock in an A frame shape made entirely of magically strengthened glass, giving an unimpeded view of both the forest surrounding them and the mountain range ahead of them. It was Hermione’s favorite place in the whole world. Fall colors, mist crawling around the trees like a specter, rain, snow, the green so deep it almost looked blue. No matter the season, it was a feast for the eyes and the soul.
Hermione hugs Nia and then goes inside to get her prefect assignment before making her way to the balcony overlooking the grand foyer to watch the sorting ceremony. Ron comes and stands next to her, closer than is strictly necessary, even given the press of students trying to get a good view. Hermione has known him her whole life. He is tall and handsome and funny and he makes her feel safe. And yet… every time she thinks about taking the next step, something in her heart stops her. Does she love Ron? Yes. She always has and she always will, but not that way. Besides, Hermione has a suspicion that she doesn’t think Ron has allowed himself to consider yet. The two of them chat quietly and she only sort of pays attention as she anxiously waits for Nia’s turn to be sorted.
Finally it is Nia’s turn, and Hermione grabs Ron’s hand in a death grip as she chews her lip nervously. The young girl looks so very tiny from up here, far too young and delicate to be having such a big experience. But her back is held straight and proud as she steps forward, away from her family, and sweeps her beautiful blue and red Sari skirt over the knot on the floor. Immediately the Thunderbird statue comes to life and gives a loud, piercing screech that has everyone but Nia covering their ears. She doesn’t seem to notice the noise; she is too busy smiling.
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Draco Malfoy steps lazily out of the fireplace in the Three Broomsticks. The old pub had definitely seen better days. The woman who used to run it had been killed when she refused to bend the knee to the Dark Lord, and now it was only used as a floo station for students to travel to and from the school. Draco was desperately wishing he could be anywhere but here, but knew he had nowhere else he could possibly go. He sat down on a dusty old bench to wait. A few minutes later, he was walking up the path to the castle with his three best friends, Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson, and Basie Zabini. Even though it is only the first of September, the day is cold and grey and rainy, and Draco wishes he’d worn his warmer cloak. He should have known better. Everything about the castle was cold and grey, the stone, the sky, the teachers, the students. There was no warmth or color anywhere to be seen, save for the cold Slytherin green that was the only approved decoration. The castle was no longer called Hogwarts as it once had been. Now it was called Slytherin School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and it only admitted students with the purest blood and the meanest hearts, and Draco hated it with all his heart.
For six years he has been learning the art of pain; how to inflict and how to endure. Draco clearly remembers how excited he was when he was 11. He had heard his parents and other family members talk about their time at school with such fondness, and they had told him repeatedly that he would love it there and that these would be the best years of his life. And so Draco believed that he was about to embark on a grand adventure of fun and games. He believed that once he got to school, he would be able to forget all of the horrible things he had seen and done and experienced at home. Unfortunately for Draco, his parents had had no idea how much the school had changed, and so he was unprepared for the horrors that awaited him.
Blaise bumps Draco with his elbow. “Penny for your thoughts, mate.” Blaise is a good friend. To outsiders he often appears aloof and standoffish, but once you are in his inner circle, there is no one more loyal, caring, or considerate. In a place like Slytherin this would normally be considered a liability, one that would be exploited by other students trying to make a name for themselves, but not for Blaise. This probably had something to do with the fact that he was the most lethal student in the school.
“Sorry. I’m just so excited to be here. You know me. Beginning of term is my favorite time of the year.” Draco’s voice dripped with sarcasm and disdain. “New students to torture, new curses to learn, new punishments to endure. It’s bloody brilliant.” Blaise snorted in response.
Theo rummages in his bag and pulls out a small package and grins at Draco. ”Well, as soon as you’re done with prefect duties, meet us down in the caves that lead to the quidditch field for some herbal therapy.” Draco has no idea where Theo gets the muggle drugs, and he’s never dared to ask. Theo first introduced them to marajuana back in third year, and it had helped Draco immensely. Combined with the alcohol that Pansy smuggled from her house, they were able to combat some of the creeping cold that results from participating in dark magic, and it helped them to forget the worst of what they’d done that day. During the last school year, though, Theo had been forced to procure stronger drugs. Draco didn’t know what they were called. He didn’t care. All he needed to know was that they drowned out the screaming of his victims that seemed to play nonstop in his head now.
“Brilliant. I’ve got to take some newbies on a tour of the grounds, but I should be done in about an hour. Don’t start without me.” Draco said.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, mate,” said Blaise sincerely. Then he gave Draco a hard look and tilted his head meaningfully toward Pansy before grabbing Theo around the shoulders and walking ahead. Draco knew what Blaise intended without having to be told. Pansy trusted Blaise and Theo, but she only really opened up to Draco. The two had been friends their whole lives, and as a result had been there for all of the good and the bad, which for Pansy, especially, was much more bad than good. She had become very withdrawn in the last few years, and today she looked downright awful. Her long black hair, normally her best feature and one she took great pride in, was piled high on her head in a messy heap that looked as though it hadn’t been washed in some time. She wore no makeup, and she had dark circles under her bright green eyes. Her cheeks looked sunken, as though she hadn’t been eating enough.
“Hey, Pans. How are you doing? You’re very quiet today.” Draco says gently. Pansy just grunts in response as they continue their trudge up to the castle. He tries again. “Did you have a nice holiday with your family?” Pansy just glares at him. He grabs her arm gently to stop her. She pulls away and keeps walking determinedly. He runs ahead of her and grabs her by both shoulders, truly worried now. He looks her in the eye and his heart sinks all the way down to his toes. The pain and horror contained in those green eyes could fill the Black Lake. “Oh, Pans. Do you want to tell me about it?” He knew better than to ask her directly what had happened.
“There’s nothing to tell. Same shit different day.” She is trying to sound haughty and aloof, and failing miserably.
“Was it him again, your brother’s ‘friend’?” Draco can feel his anger begin to boil.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Draco! Just leave me alone!” And with that, she began running up to the school, leaving Draco shivering alone in the drizzling rain.