Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

You got lucky, this time. Born to a divination enthusiast and literal Seer, you’ve had support since you were old enough to articulate your dreams. It amazed you how much easier your life was when you could actually talk about your problems. (It was a lot like how relieved you were back then, first sharing your secrets with Sebastian. His unwavering support, even in his darkest hours – whatever happened to him, you always hoped he was happy.)

“Reincarnation is not unheard of, though it is rarely believed. But you, little one…. I chose your name because I had dreams of the girl who helped stop the Goblin Rebellion in 1891, and memories of her life between dangers. If you say you are that girl, those dreams make much more sense.”

Even so, you waited until you were eleven and about to start Hogwarts before you brought up Victor in more than a casual light. And you still didn’t tell your parents about his deaths or your own last one. “We were never able to be together, for various reasons. But… we wanted to be. And I hope to find him again.”

Your mother didn’t look surprised. Whether because she saw those memories too or because you were more obvious than you liked (again), you were scared to ask. “We’ll keep an ear out – though it seems like you tend to manage on your own.”

“Oh! I wasn’t asking for help or anything – I’m sure he’ll turn up eventually. I just… wanted to warn you? He accidentally apparated inside my house once. And if there’s a large age difference again, some bad rumors will probably start.” Again.
----

The three of you were in Diagon Alley shopping for supplies. You watched your father tap the pattern that has apparently never been changed – it’s a miracle no Muggles had accidentally stumbled into the place. The Leaky Cauldron still had people talking about “the boy who lived.” You knew of him, of course. But you were the special one once, and you had no desire to go around idolizing someone.

(Also, when you saved the world from power-hungry wizards and goblins, you did the killing yourself. Not some accidental magic backlash nonsense. So really, this Harry Potter kid couldn’t be that special.)

In Olivander’s, you were amused to see that the measuring standards hadn’t changed. Distance between the nostrils, indeed.

“Fascinating,” the current Olivander said. “A challenge, to be sure. But a very welcome one. I do so love this part of my job.” He rummaged around, pulling some out then putting them back, before finally handing you one.

You did a quick swish and flick, knowing full well that it wasn’t right. The box moved, but not the way you wanted it to. “It’s the wood.”

Olivander eyed you. “You do seem like you would have a good grasp on those qualities. What do you suggest?”

After taking a few seconds to wonder why all old people seemed to know either everything or absolutely nothing, you provided him with the one thing that never changed – the wood your wand was made of. Core type, length, and flexibility changed every time, but never the wood. The next wand you were handed worked perfectly and felt familiar.

“Excellent, a perfect match. I applaud your knowledge of wand woods and self-awareness. Best of luck on your journey.”

“Thank you.” You turned towards the window while your mother paid, and gasped as you ran outside.

The kid you were pretty sure was Victor got blocked by an incredibly tall and wide man, and you lost him in the crowd. You scowled (pouted) and crossed your arms. From personal experience, you knew full well that the man was neither troll nor giant, but that wasn’t going to stop you from calling him both under your breath. He better hope you never saw him again, because this was going to be one hell of a grudge.

After getting your robes and heading towards the bookstore, you froze. Standing right in front of you was an entire gaggle of Weasleys. You haven’t met a single one since Garreth, but there was no way any other family was unfortunate enough to be that shade of ginger.

Garreth… why did you get the feeling you forgot something very important pertaining to him? Obviously you didn’t expect to remember every detail about every life (even on life number one your memory for details was sketchy at best). But this gave you the same feeling you had back in Ilvermorny, whenever something scratched the surface of an old memory but couldn’t quite take you back to it.

“Is everything okay, dear?” your mother asked.

“Oh, yeah. Just…” you stood closer and leaned up to whisper. “Are those Weasleys?”

“Seeing as Arthur is there, I dare say they are,” your father said. Enthusiastic as he was, divination was just his hobby. It seemed working on the Ministry’s payroll had its perks.

“I probably shouldn’t be surprised. Garreth said his family had been around forever; it stands to reason that they’d continue on forever.”

You watched your father hide a chuckle while your mother sighed. “Let’s just get your books. Then all we have left is your pet, if you’d like one.”

“I don’t want a pet, I require a pet. Preferably a cat.”

“I’m sure Sebby will love that,” she said.

You smiled at the thought of your brown-furred mutt. “I’ll get a boy cat, name him Omi, and everything will be fine.” And that’s exactly what you did – a white cat with blue eyes, short fur, and very standoff-ish. If only Ominis could see what you’ve done to his memory. Sebastian would probably find it hilarious up until he met Sebby; then he’d join Ominis in attempted murder. Worth it.

Turning around, you spotted the same boy from before on the other side of the street. “Victor!”

The kid turned around, and his eyes widened when they landed on you. He opened his mouth and started to reach out his arm when an adult’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder. He straightened up immediately and turned around to address him. You couldn’t hear what was said, but you got the hint and pretended to look at something nearby.

Cupping your hands together, you muttered a charm and whispered, “I’ll see you on the train.” You turned back towards him and blew the whisp of wind to the back of his head, then moved on.

“You’re lucky that you’re young enough that the Ministry probably won’t bother,” your father said.

“Most humans are 70% water. I’m 70% luck,” you said smiling as he rolled his eyes.

“Alright, smart one. Let’s get one last lunch together before we send you off.”
----

At the station, you said your goodbyes and boarded the front of the train. You tried not to make the fact that you were looking in every compartment on the way back too awkwardly obvious. In the end, you did find him – looking bored in a full compartment. He caught your eyes and shrugged. Instead, you sat with a couple of other first-years with no wizarding friends or family. It took you all of 15 minutes to decide this Luna girl was kind, but insane. Luckily you were well versed in how to handle crazy.

Sighing in exasperation at the fourth time someone opened the door to ask about that damned toad, you were surprised when you were greeted by name instead.

“Nice to see you, too.”

“Victor!”

“Sorry about earlier. No one actually knows the situation, so things are going to be weird for a bit.”

“No, I’m sorry for not thinking of the consequences. We’ll figure it out.”

Luna looked between the two of you with her weird glasses on. “You two have known each other far longer than anyone else. Good luck.”

Huh. Maybe she wasn’t so crazy after all. “Thanks. And Victor, you should probably get back before someone misses you.”

He looked at his watch and smirked. “I’ve got at least ten more minutes. But you’re not entirely wrong. See you.” He closed the door and walked away before you could respond.

There was some giggling from the others in the compartment, sans Luna. It took a few seconds to register, but when it did you blushed.

“How did you possibly become friends with the Rooks’ kid?” Zeke asked. “I heard they were pretty strict.”

“Accidental pen pals after an owl mix-up. There’s a reason we haven’t told anyone.” Hopefully you’ll find a chance to tell Victor before he makes up his own story.
---

You scowled when the troll giant called the first years over. Bloody hell, you just couldn’t win. Moreover, you weren’t able to find Victor while loading into the boats, but at that point you didn’t care. For all the things that you hated in your first life, what you hated most was the fact you had been robbed of seeing Hogwarts for the first time from the lake at night. You have yet to see a more breath-taking sight. Seeing it warmed your heart almost as much as the associated memories broke it.

When the Sorting Hat was placed on your head, you had to try not to startle at its immediate comment, “oh, another returning student? Unusual indeed.”

“You remember?”

“It’s my job to understand people, child. And with understanding comes remembrance.”

You weren’t quite sure how true that was, but there’s no point in worrying about it. Besides, magical hats probably worked differently than human brains anyways.

“Precisely. Now… despite your extracurricular activities, I stand by my Hufflepuff placement. Although, the Muggles may have a point in their reincarnation theory, and you DO encapsulate all of the houses fairly well…. As a personal gift to the Hero of Hogwarts---”

“Please don’t start that name again---”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Really?”

“Trust in yourself.”

Professor McDonald or whatever removed the Hat before you could converse further, and you made your way to the Slytherin table in your new robes. You haven’t sat here since sharing one last Hogwarts meal with Sebastian and Ominis before graduation. You internally groaned when MacDuggal confirmed the platinum blonde was, in fact, a Malfoy. You could tell just by looking at his face he was going to be a twat.

Victor eventually joined your table, sitting between you and one of the kids that you totally didn’t notice was in his compartment and was just pure coincidence that you sat next to at the table. You scootched over just enough for him to comfortably get in, and “introduced” yourself once the other guy was done with the congratulations.

You impatiently waited for the Grand Feast, watching yet another Weasley get sorted into Gryffindor, as well as that Potter kid and two of the people looking for the toad. (Which seems to have been found, since Nerdville was holding one.) Food finally arrived, and you saw a small smirk dance across Victor’s lips at your low, “finally.”

When all was said and done, you ended up sneaking to the Room of Requirement alone. The two of you were supposed to be near strangers, which apparently means you can’t monopolize his time. But you wanted to join the Crossed Wands again, assuming it’s still running, so you really, really had to practice. Taking a cue from your second life, you held off on the Confringos. For now.

A week later, you made your way to the clock tower and found a boy with dark curly hair holding a clipboard. Other than that, he looked nothing like Lucan. It still made you smile when he looked at you with the same surprise.

“A first year? This is the second year in a row one of you has stumbled up here. Maybe we should change locations.”

“Nah, I just had inside information from a former student. So, how do I join?” you asked.

“Well, normally you have to be recommended. But I suppose we can do what we did for the other one and give you a test.”

You saw a freckled face topped with slightly curled brown hair and smiled. “I’ll duel him.”

“Him? That’s Sebastian, the only other person to ‘accidentally’ find us in their first year. I won’t stop you, but I don’t recommend it. He’s the best in his year, and gives most third years trouble.”

“Sounds like I’ll have fun.”

The kid shrugged. “If you’re sure. Sebastian! I have a duel for you!”

Sebastian looked over. “Have… have we met before?”

“If you win, I’ll tell you.”

Sebastian matched your mischievous grin, just like he used to. “Deal.”

The duel started, though most of your power came from the creative combinations of a basic cast and timely dodging. Well, creative to everyone except Sebastian. Your grin grew has he habitually moved in counter-intuitive ways to stay on par. He may not remember your name, but part of him clearly remembers your duels – and you almost lost the current one by getting too caught up in your excitement.

After you (barely) won, not-Lucan welcomed you to the club. Sebastian looked up at you in awe. “Those were some inventive moves.”

You took his hand and helped him back up. “And that was some impressive dodging – most people wouldn’t think to roll into an attack.”

He grinned. “Yeah, well, most people aren’t reckless idiots. Where did you learn that?”

You led him to the badge case and pointed to the years you were in school. “See those initials? I’m related – even got named after her. I enjoy the energy of a friendly duel, so I figured I’d check the place out. Maybe someday I’ll get to confuse everyone by putting the same initials back in this case, a hundred years later.”

“Maybe I’ll rise to the top with you and make things worse – those initials next to hers match mine. Right! I think it’s past time for proper introductions, but better late than never. I’m Sebastian Salix. Second-year Ravenclaw.”

“Salix… as in willow trees?” As in, the genus that the sallow tree belongs to.

“Yep, though most people don’t know that off hand.”

“I enjoy herbology, both magical and muggle.”

“Odd for a Slytherin.”

“I’m a woman of many talents. Besides, anyone could be sorted into any house, if you focus on the right traits.”

“I suppose. The Sorting Hat almost put me and my sister in Slytherin, too. But then mentioned something about being different than before and choose Ravenclaw instead.”

“You have a sister?”

“Yep! She’s my twin, but she finds dueling too violent – prefers kicking my butt in Gobstones instead.”

You laughed. “Somehow I’m not surprised.”
-----

You let Victor set the pace on how your public friendship progressed, since he was the one with apparently picky parents. Instead, the two of you met in the Room of Requirement most nights. Even after all this time, it was still ‘your’ room that it provided, vivariums and all. They were empty now, of course. You made sure of that before you graduated – Deek was the only other one who knew about them, and he was inching ever closer to death’s door in your final years. Then who knows what would happen to the beasts.

Victor looked equal parts annoyed and impressed. “I see you weren’t kidding about keeping the entire unicorn den. It’s very bright in here.”

And it was – back then, you craved the comfort of the fake sun and potted plants to brighten your life when so much of it was dark. It was very Hufflepuff. “It could stand to use some redecorating, but we can work on that later.”

Once a week, you dueled Sebastian. As more of his muscle memory came back, so did his annoyance and confusion. He looked like how you felt the first few weeks in Ilvermorny, staring at a horned serpent instead of a raven. You briefly considered letting him win, but he was progressing faster than you, so you figured it wouldn’t take too much longer anyways.

Anne was eventually reintroduced, though she didn’t show any signs of possibly remembering anything. Probably for the best. You also kept up with Luna. Not quite friends, but you helped her out whenever you found her ‘lost’ items and listened to her idle chatter. She occasionally had impressive insight into things that would otherwise be very mundane. (You still don’t know what a Nargle is, though).
----

You and Victor scoffed as the worst professor the two of you have ever had came running into the Great Hall screaming about a troll. The two of you then rolled your eyes at each other as the students – including the annoyance that was Draco Malfoy – screamed and panicked. Honestly, if you and Natty could take on an enhanced troll at fifteen, one professor should have no problem.

Whatever. You grabbed some food to go and ignored the rumors of Potter and Friends knocking out the troll until they died down.

It was, ironically, shortly after the Troll Incident that Sebastian finally beat you. He first looked surprised, then contemplative as he helped you up. Just as you started to congratulate him on earning answers, he interrupted.

“You taught me that move.”

You paused, then smiled. “I did. Meet me next to the DADA room after curfew. I assume you know the Disillusionment charm?”

He smiled back. “I have to sneak into the restricted section somehow.”

The cabinet to the Undercroft was still there, and Sebastian managed to remember how to get in without your prompting. You talked for hours, though it was mostly you confirming things and expanding on some of them as his memory returned on its own.

“So, yeah. Turns out the thing with my sister was just a fluke, thank Merlin. In fact, I was actually into blokes last time. Right now I’m too young to have romantic interest in much of anything.”

You laughed. “Yeah, half the time I want to cuddle in front of the fire, and the other half I’m disgusted by boys and their cooties. It’s annoying.”

(As expected, the brunette was amused by your choice of cat and his name, and decidedly less amused by your dog.)
---

You had a sinking feeling in your stomach when you heard that Potter exorcised Voldemort from Professor Squirrel. But you and Victor were proper friends now, even in public, so maybe everything would be okay.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~

You bumped into the Weasley’s while book shopping for your second year. Quite literally this time. “Oh, sorry Mr. Weasley.”

The oldest male looked at you. “Not to worry, accidents happen. But… have we met before?”

“Huh? Oh, well, no. I’m sorry, I had assumed. There’s like, fifty Weasleys in school and they all have the same shade of ginger hair….”

He laughed. “Well, it does run in the family.” He stuck out his hand. “Arthur Weasley, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You took it. “Pleasure is mine, I’m sure. My name is---”

You were cut off by your father calling your name. “There you are. Thank you, Mr. Weasley, for keeping her in one spot long enough for me to catch her.”

“Not another word. I’m well aware of how slippery kids can be, and this is quite the large crowd with that Lockhart fellow doing autographs. Speaking of, I should probably find my son and his friend before the Mrs. finds out I lost them again.”

“Of course. I’ll see you Monday.”

‘The Lockhart fellow’ was much too polite, if your family had any say. He rubbed all of you the wrong way, like he was just too much. Your mother tried some divination out of curiosity, but even that was too vague to do anything other than validate the bad feeling. You wrote Victor to warn against him, but only got a letter back with, “the irony that you, of all people, despise him is appropriately hilarious. Let me know when you figure out why.”

(It shouldn’t be possible to laugh at someone through the written word, but of course he would be the one who manages it. And when you brought up your concerns about the man with Sebastian at school, he laughed in your face but refused to explain.)

The school year progressed as normally as it could, all things considered. Until you, Victor, and Sebastian were making a late-night trip back from the Room of Requirement. There was a decidedly out of place noise, so you pressed your ear against the cold stone.

“Do you guys hear that?”

Sebastian followed your lead. “Hm. I hear something but can’t place what it is.”

Victor cast some sort of charm around his head, then followed suit. “It sounds like wind, but it’s in the walls.”

Whatever it was, it had already gotten out of your normal hearing range. You straightened up and looked at the other two. “Tomorrow. We’ll meet in the Room at the same time as usual. Victor, you’ll teach us whatever charm you just used, then we’ll come here and see if it comes back.”

Victor sighed. “You’re far too bossy for a former Hufflepuff. I see now why you were put in Slytherin.”

Sebastian smirked. “Nah, she’s always been like this. The second she catches wind of a quest; she goes full power ‘my way or the highway.’ Annoying, but it kept me alive far longer than if I had been on my own.”

You scowled (pouted) at them both. “I get the job done. Now, let’s move before Fitch catches us.”

A simultaneous “yes ma’am” made you roll your eyes as you made your way back to the dungeons.
---

The next night, the boys followed your plan without complaints. You got to the spot from the previous night a few minutes early and prepared yourselves. The noise did come back, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” you whispered to Sebastian.

“I’m afraid it’s exactly what you think it is.”

Now hearing it while it was still close, Victor identified it. “A snake?”

“Yes, parseltongue. I can’t understand most of it, but it’s defiantly saying ‘open’ multiple times,” you said.

“How do you know?”

“One of my few crystal-clear memories includes an old friend of ours who spoke it. He was opening the door to Slytherin’s Scriptorium for us.” You hated that not a second of that night was cloudy from age, unlike so many others.

“Speaking of. Isn’t there a rumor that he had a secret chamber to go with his secret library?” Sebastian asked. “We might find more in there.”

“We might, but unless you think you can cast the curse we won’t make it.”
There was a moment of silence before Sebastian sighed. “Right, sorry. Very well. In that case, I say we don’t make this our problem. Just be careful after curfew, yeah?”

Victor stared at the wall. “If it really is Salazar’s giant snake in there, it’s probably a basilisk. I vote we don’t go out after curfew at all until this is cleared up.”

You shivered. “Actually, yeah. I have no desire to die by one a second time. If we’re lucky that Potter kid will accidentally save the day again.”

(You were quite peeved when Harry Potter did, in fact, save the day. Even if it was only because of Granger’s research and a lot of dumb luck.)
~-~-~-~-~-~-~

You sat with Luna, Sebastian, and Anne on the way to your third year at Hogwarts. Victor was, as usual, trapped with his influential ‘friends.’ You were mostly ignoring Sebastian, still annoyed by an exchange you two had over the summer.

Do you at least feel validated by your poor expectations of Lockheart?

Of course. He was clearly using his ‘charming’ personality to cover his lies, he’s sneaky, selfish, and much too full of himself. And his fashion choice is horrendous.

You realize you used to describe Victor in the same way, right? Before you told me who he actually was?

You never replied to that letter, or the clearly insincere apology letter that came after it. But now that he was physically in front of you, he made sure you had no choice but to react – often to his bad puns. (That you loved.)

Luna was reading the most recent edition of The Quibbler, which was causing quite an interesting conversation. You and the twins were subscribed to it as well – more out of curiosity than because it actually made any sense, though. What concerned you was the fact that the normally light-hearted newsletter had a fairly long piece about Azkaban, and it wasn’t even about the recent escape. Just… ‘fun facts’ that were probably made up. The Quibbler could be great if Xenophilius ever learned to find proper leads on the random gut feelings he gets.

Suddenly, there was a chill in the air that reached you first, then frost over the glass. A half second later you were gripping your want tightly and trying not to join the panic over dementors. Sebastian seemed to be doing the same, both frantically trying to find a memory that could produce a half-decent patronus shield if necessary. You both had too many dangerous memories, and not enough practice. Thankfully, it didn’t come to that.
---

You stared in awe at the hippogriff before you. For obvious reasons, you haven’t been close to one in a while. Perhaps this was one was related to Highwing?

“Now, are ‘ere any volunteers?” Hagrid asked.

“If I may, Professor?” you asked, before the man could volunteer Potter. (Because everyone knew that those three Gryffindors in particular were his favorite.) Lucky for him, you had gotten over your grudge from your first-year shopping.

“No more o’ that ‘Professor.’ I’m just plain ol’ Hagrid. Now come along.”

After you listened to him explain things you already knew, you bowed in front of Buckbeak. As you expected (because you still have the heart of a Hufflepuff, worn as it was with trauma and fighting), he bowed back. You didn’t need Hagrid’s reassurance to pet him.

“Thanks for ‘at. Now next… Harry, come along. Make sure to wait until he bows back.”

You tuned out the class as you stood next to Victor, who felt the need to tease you about your continuing affinity. At least, until the blonde prat yelled. It was only a scratch, though, so you brushed it off as his normal over-dramatics. You only hoped that his father didn’t get the poor hippogriff sentenced to death.
---

“How did you mess up this badly?”

“How can you follow instructions with all this stinging smoke in your eyes?”

“Why are you so bad at tutum oculus?”

“The fuck is that?”

“Literally the super basic spell that protects your eyes from anything that would make it difficult to read.”

You shot a glare at Professor Sharp’s enchanted portrait in the potions classroom. The two of you never spoke, but you suspected he knew, since he seemed to keep a closer eye on you than anyone else. He gave a subtle shrug with a noticeable smirk. That asshole. (You missed him).

Victor sighed. “I’ll teach it to you later. For now, look at me and hold still.” You did as told and let Victor save your poor eyes. Maybe now you’ll have a chance at the practical part of Potions. Heavy on the ‘maybe.’

A book slammed in front of you, causing you to wince as you looked up. Snape was looking down at you. “If you spent more time following instructions and less time talking, you might not have this problem.”

“Sorry, Professor.” Yeah, you really missed Professor Sharp. Strict as he was, he at least earned your respect.
-----

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Victor said to Parkinson, who seemed to be trying to sneak up to his napping companion. “She can be quite violent.”

The other girl snorted. “As if. She couldn’t hurt me even if she wanted to; the girl’s practically a Hufflepuff.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Victor continued reading his book but kept an eye on the couch across from him. He couldn’t quite figure out her hatred for the technically older girl; Parkinson was far too self-centered and obsessed with Malfoy to be jealous. Unless she was jealous of her looks, which was fair. His girl always outshone everyone.

His girl… they should probably talk about their relationship sometime. They were currently flirting the border of ‘close friends’ and ‘romantic interests.’ Honestly, his parents aren’t even as strict as people think they are, despite their preference for purebloods and general dislike for Muggles. As long as he stays on friendly terms with the children of their connections, he was free to speak with who he wishes.

There was a screech as Parkinson found herself in a headlock with a wand pointed at her throat; a curse half out of the mouth of her attacker before she caught herself.

“Bloody hell, Parkinson. The fuck is your issue? You can’t just go grabbing people like that.”

“You shouldn’t be sleeping in the common room. Someone with ill intentions could have done anything.”

“The only one who holds that much disdain for me is you, Parkinson. At least out here I have witnesses that you deserve whatever happens.”

Victor went back to properly reading his book. As cute as she was when relaxed, he hated having to make sure she didn’t do anything illegal in her adrenaline fueled but still mostly asleep state. She was a handful, but he hasn’t been this happy since sometime before meeting her in his first life.

“Wipe that dumb look off your face, Rook. It’s disgusting.”

“Yours will always be ten times worse, Pug Face.”

“You---”

“Enough,” his not-girlfriend said, waving one hand and yawning.

The room fell into silence, and he wondered if she cast the spell on purpose. (Probably not, since he was also unable to speak.) Victor grabbed his stuff and followed her out the door. He’ll deal with the consequences later.
-----

You failed the practical part of the dark beings’ test in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Not due to improper teaching (this time), but because boggarts are the bane of everyone’s existence. It wasn’t enough to ruin your grades, but you were terribly embarrassed at the show you had put on.

You were more scared of the fact that you didn’t know what your boggart would be than anything else. There’s so much trauma for it to draw upon, so many bits and pieces that wouldn’t make sense to anyone except you. Friends that no longer exist, dead. Friends that do exist but you’ve only officially known for three years, dead. Casting any of the Unforgivables. Spiders. Goblins. Dementors. Ancient magic. The unexpected crack of apparition. Cockroaches.

For once in your many lives, you wished for spiders. Maybe the fun music from the gramophone would help. Things were going well with everyone so far, and you were last. But then the worst thing to ever exist came into being: A spider the size of your hand flying mid-air with cockroach wings, and it was heading straight towards your face.

You panicked, cast Confringo, then continued to panic and cast it at the twitching vaguely bug-shaped blob on the floor, repeatedly. Part of you recognized the feel of a very powerful shielding spell between you and the rest of the students (and the very flammable desks and books), but overall it seemed Professor Lupin was content letting you wear yourself out.

He got between you and the boggart as soon as you took more than half a second to breathe, and Victor turned you towards the door while holding your wand arm steady.

“As impressive as your stamina and control are, perhaps you should take a break,” Lupin said calmly.

“Yes, Professor.”

Sebastian made you feel a tiny bit better by admitting he also failed that part. Though in his defense, he did see Anne writhing in pain from a curse she doesn’t remember.
-----

When Sirius Black got away, Buckbeak snuck out of the pumpkin patch, and your favorite DADA teacher resigned, you assumed it was Harry Potter. This was starting to get irritating. Well, the last one wasn’t directly related to Potter, but still. One of the biggest things you learned over the year, however, is why your mother had such an issue with Professor Tawny. She was somehow an incredible Seer and also one of the most incompetent people either of you had ever met. The rumors of her mentioning Voldemort did not sit well with you, though.

(You told your mother about it, and she spent a lot of late nights and weekends pouring over various divination methods, and even tried some new techniques to try and force a vision from her Inner Eye. The longer she tried, the more frustrated she got.

“As usual, the more details I want the less I get,” she said, examining her second star chart. Your father was standing over her shoulder, trying to see if his untrained eye could catch something she might miss in her perfection. “What’s even the point of being a Seer?”

You had just smiled softly at her. “To give your daughter a fighting chance by believing in her. To give me a childhood I was able to enjoy to its fullest, instead of constantly living a lie. At least we know it wasn’t just her being all doom and gloom. I’ll just make sure to keep an eye out for anyone suspicious next year.”

She pulled you into a hug. “You are a blessing, and I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”)
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

You and Sebastian had twisted into awkward angles in your seats to grin manically at each other with the announcement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament at the beginning of your fourth year. The two of you then proceeded to be the most devastated people in the school when Dumbledore said you had to be at least seventeen.

“Can the two of you really not be content with being the top duelists?” A chorus of ‘no’ made Victor roll his eyes. “You two are worse than the ginger twins.”

“Are not! There’s---"

“No way we---“

“Could ever be as bad as---”

“The Weasley twins.” The absolutely serious looks you gave him made him roll his eyes harder.

“And twice as hypocritical. Whatever. I’m sure you’ll find another way to show off.”

(Victor and Anne spent hours pretending like they were listening to the two of you rant and generally bitch after ‘Harry fucking Potter’ was announced to be a contestant.)

After calming down a few days later, Sebastian dragged you into one of the little nooks you showed him so long ago. The empty treasure chest was still there.
“I’ve decided. Since you can’t show your courage in the tournament, you’ll have to do it a different way.”

“Meaning?” you asked with mild trepidation

“Finally confess to Victor, obviously! You’re nearly fifteen again, the worst of puberty has come and gone for both of you, his parents apparently don’t actually care who his other friends are, he’s not in an arranged marriage – what’s stopping you? Things are going so well.”

You paused, then looked at the wall to your side. “Exactly that. Things are going well. What if it’s because we’re not acknowledging it? If that was never the point to any of this? Maybe it was never about being with him, but I’m just too stupid to learn that lesson.”

The now taller boy pulled you into a hug. “That’s bullshit and you know it. The two of you have turned down the few suiters that dared to try their luck---”

You bristled. “What idiot though she could-“ you cut yourself off and blushed. This must be why Victor never told you.

“See? You’ll never agree to anyone else, so you may as well be with him.”

“You’re probably right.”
-----

You stared with wide eyes as the new professor cast the Cruciatus curse on a spider. This didn’t bode well – as weird as Dumbledore was, surely he wouldn’t knowingly hire someone who give practical demonstrations of the Unforgivables… right? Regardless, you said nothing. After all, this was exactly how you practiced the curses.
It really was a non-issue, until Moody cast Imperio on you. You broke out of it quickly enough – barely had time to register it even happened – and in a fit of anger turned on the teacher.

“No!” Victor had grabbed your arm, but it was too late. The curse had been cast, with a surprising amount of success for a student going against an Auror.

While the teacher was writing ‘I will not cast Unforgivables on students’ on the chalkboard, you put the still twitching spider out of its’ misery with a quick Killing curse. Taking a deep breath, you sat back down.

“Bloody hell. I can handle the students, but I don’t think I can do anything against Mad-Eye Moody. He’s known for not letting politics and money influence him,” Victor said from beside you. “And I’m not great at memory spells.”

Unexpectedly, a Ravenclaw broke the silence of the students. “I mean, we could always gaslight him. I’m sure everyone here is well aware that nothing abnormal happened, right?” he looked around the classroom.

“He started it, so yeah. Old man must be going senile.” There were mummers of agreement, and some Slytherins looked far too happy to ‘help.’

You shrugged. “Whatever happens, happens,” you said as you released Moody of the curse.

There was a pause, then maniacal laughter. “Very impressive. Not only being able to break through the curse, but to cast it so quickly? They were right; you truly are far brighter than you appear. A good asset for anyone.” Moody continued with the class like there was no interruption, which only made your feeling of dread grow. Who was 'they?'

‘Those in power cannot always be trusted,’ was a common theme throughout your mother’s attempts. Mad-Eye has officially secured himself as suspect number one. The Drumstring headmaster was pretty high on the list too, as well as every ministry official that was at the announcement. Though that was just due to your general distrust of the Ministry.

(You later heard that Harry had also broken free of the curse, in the class before yours. You took silent pride in the fact that you, at least, fought back. Miraculously, the ‘fighting back’ part never made its way into the rumor mill.)
----

“Are you going to wear things that you used to?”

“Probably. Except, perhaps, with ‘more reasonably sized coat lapels.’ I never stopped enjoying the style or color, though.”

You smirked, very grateful that Victor at least remembered that much of your (admittedly poor) fashion advice. Too bad you’ll have to go after eighteenth – no, nineteenth, you’re never going to get over that – century ball gowns. They’re sure to be hard to find.

(In the end, they weren’t hard to find. You went shopping with Anne’s help and your parents’ money, and ended up with a dark purple jacquard dress that laced over a wine red satin center, with just a few hints of gold. Your mom managed to make a choker of the same wine red with gold decorative stitches at your insistence, looking far too amused the whole time. And even more unconcerned about the price of everything.)

It wasn’t your style of dress that caused a commotion – wizards and their weird obsession with tradition caused a lot of people to wear modern versions of old gowns, or well-preserved hand-me-downs. Instead, it was the fact that you were wearing a dress at all. You refused to even wear the standard school uniform skirt, which meant the only person to have ever seen you in anything other than pants was Sebastian.

Victor stood at the bottom of the stairs in the Slytherin common room. He had kept his promise of reduced coat lapels, but he still managed to be extra with gold embroidery on his also dark purple coat, with a dark red and gold brocade waistcoat.

He held a hand out and kissed the back of yours when you took it. “Perfect. I knew you could do it.”

You could practically hear the few people still looking at you roll their eyes, and definitely heard a muttered ‘just kiss already.’ You planned to by the end of the night. “And you look as needlessly extravagant as I expected. You wear it well, though.” He always has.

“As always,” he said as he escorted you to the Great Hall.

Sebastian, Luna, Anne, and Anthony -and why did Anne have to choose someone with ‘An-,’ it’s such a mouthful¬ met the two of you just outside of it. Everyone except Luna was in much more sensible styles.

Luna smiled. “You two look like a fairy tale.”

You smiled back. “And your dress is very impressive.” Interesting would have been a more appropriate word, and ‘weird but pretty’ would have been the most honest description, but Luna got a free pass on weird. And she had Sebastian to scare off any potential bullies.

The night passed pleasantly enough, since those damned French girls finally got the hint that Victor was off limits. Once Sebastian had brought it to your attention, you spent an extortionate amount of time chasing them, and a few slow Hogwarts students, off.

Near the end, Victor pulled you into a more dramatic waltz; one that was considered scandalous when it first came out but was fairly tame compared to modern Muggle dances. After a half minute, you recognized the song as an instrumental version of Tale as Old as Time. You absently wondered if you were the beauty or the beast, violence wrapped in Hufflepuff that you were.

Either way, you took the initiative to tug Victor down the last inch at the end of the dance to kiss him. Gently, because not only were you in public but you were also wearing lipstick. That didn’t stop someone from showering you in magic sparkles when you released him. You also sent a middle finger in the general direction of whoever said “about damn time.”
---

Not a lot changed when the two of you were in public. Mostly out of common courtesy to the poor onlookers, but also out of slight awkwardness and constant feeling of dread every time you went to DADA. Why was everyone actually keeping that secret? Moody might be quiet so that he doesn’t have to admit he was demonstrating the curses (you’re pretty sure that’s still against the rules). Slytherins, maybe, as they could just be happy to be ‘in’ on something clearly very illegal. But at least one Ravenclaw should have spilled the beans out of guilt by now, unless someone was covering for you?

Well, it’s not like you could do anything about a problem that doesn’t exist yet, so you let it go for now. Now, you were sitting in the bleachers with Victor, waiting to see who made it out of the maze. You froze when Potter and a dead Cedric arrived.

Dumbledore confirmed your suspicions – Voldemort – even as the Ministry tried to cover it up. Added to the fact that Mad-Eye Moody started acting more moody and less mad, you also took a wild guess and who the inside person was.
---

You and Sebastian paced back and forth in the Undercroft, likely driving Victor and Anne crazy. They didn’t tell you to stop, though, because the two of you were on a roll with thoughts and theories. Aided in no small part by observations of the other two occupants, of course. Anne only wished she had time to prepare items to make a conspiracy theory board.

“Junior was a known Death Eater that supposedly died in Azkaban. Junior’s mother died shortly after. But dear Junior is clearly alive – or was, until his father sentenced him to basically death for a second time.”

“Mom switched places to protect her son, who was then hidden away for years? Barty must have had some strong love for his wife to do that after his first sentence.”

“Well, you know what they say. People do crazy things when they’re in love.”

“So we got that part covered. What about Voldemort? Didn’t he die twice by now?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call leeching off the back of Squirrel’s head ‘living,’ but apparently only his body was destroyed? But that doesn’t really make sense either.”

“Killing the body without killing the soul… so the soul would have to attach itself to something else…”

You and Sebastian froze and stared at each other in horror. Horcrux. During the search for a cure for Anne, the two of you stumbled upon it. Even in his darkest hours, Sebastian had readily agreed that this information needed to disappear. You destroyed the two pages of information and the index of that book, and every other book you could find that even mentioned the word. Objectively, the two of you knew the information still existed somewhere, but you could at least make it more difficult to access.

Killing bad guys? No problem. Sacrificing people? Depends on the reason and if you get to choose who you kill. But killing people in cold blood to split your very soul? That was a line you both immediately agreed to never cross.

“What do you two know?”

“Victor, dear. I love you, but I am never repeating that information to anyone.”

“I’m sorry, Anne, but I feel so strongly about this that I destroyed books to reduce the information.”

Victor furrowed his brows. “So bad that even someone who can use Unforgivables on authority figures doesn’t like it? Maybe it’s best that I don’t know.” You could tell he was almost dying of curiosity, though.

Anne let out a long sigh as she leaned back into the couch you had transfigured back in first year. “Yeah. Must be traumatizing if Sebastian not only never tried it himself, but also put effort into making sure other people couldn’t try it, either.”

“The fact remains. Voldemort’s body died as his soul continued on, being a parasite to whoever he could get his hands on, and now he has a proper body. Probably. I never actually heard what happened out there besides ‘he killed Cedric.’ But it sounds like something that would happen.” You did have quite a bit of experience with dark wizards and powerful rituals, after all.

Victor stood up and grabbed one of your hands with both of his when you started pacing again. “Hey. You’re strong enough to defend yourself from anything that looks at you wrong. The details aren’t your problem anymore.” He kissed the hand he was holding, successfully derailing your thoughts. “So don’t worry. Just be careful.”

You relaxed your shoulders. “Victor…. Yeah, I guess you’re --- wait a minute.” Victor was rarely this soft in private, and never in public. You yanked him down to your level by his collar with your other hand and gave him a stern look. “Your parents are Death Eaters, aren’t they.”

“Technically no. True to form, they were too cowardly to get the Dark Mark themselves. But they did find all sorts of excuses to gift large sums of money to those that did have it.”

“Damn it, Victor!”

“I swear I was going to tell you before summer break!”

You let go of him and turned away. “I mean, I’m not surprised. But fuck!” American swear words continued to be your favorite – even if ‘fuck’ didn’t hold quite as much meaning.

Victor gently grabbed you again. “Listen. I’ll take care of my parents –“

“Because that went so well last time.”

He grimaced. “Maybe I’ll just run away at seventeen, then.”

“You’re always welcome at my house, regardless of age.”

“I should probably meet your parents properly before dropping in unannounced.”

You finally noticed that Anne and Sebastian seemed to be having a very intense conversation about the triptych you completed in your fifth year. Right, the two of you weren’t alone. Oops.

“We’ll talk more on this later.”

“Of course.”
----

The school year ended with the majority of the students fully believing the pile of shit Rita Skeeter and the rest of the Daily Prophet was feeding them. Potter looked like he was going to snap any day now – quite possibly the one thing you couldn’t blame him for. How often had you told adults the truth, only to be brushed aside?
But you weren’t going to get involved. You’ll fight Voldemort and any of his minions that dare cross your path, of course, but you won’t go looking for trouble. Not this time.

This time, you had something to live for.
----

You and Victor introduced your parents to each other at King’s Cross. Though his father clearly looked down on your parents, he said nothing negative. This may be because his wife regularly has her fortune told, and your mother offered to do a free tarot reading and discounted star chart. So in the end, your summer visitation turned into both of your families spending a weekend together.

His mother was surprisingly interested in divination, though she apparently had no affinity for it herself. She stayed at the house with your mom to do the reading and charting. Your fathers alternated between staring at each other, staring at the two of you, and staring at opposite walls. There was an attempt at small talk, but once they ran out of Ministry gossip it awkwardly teetered into nothingness.

You looked at Victor. “Ice cream? The shop around the block calls has a chocolate shake with candy and call it ‘Cosmic Chocolate.’ It doesn’t make you see stars, though.”

“Anything to get out of this.”

As you leisurely walked, you smiled sadly. “I’m going to pick up the necklace you gave me when school starts. Is there a way to remove the anti-apparition part?”

“You still have that? And probably, though I’m not entirely sure if you want to, considering the circumstances.”

“I do, and I do. Before I died that time, I had a bad feeling and put it in the safe that I keep in your grave.”

“My what?!”

“Hm. Yeah, after I killed you during the Goblin Rebellion, I buried you in the ‘only sunny spot in that godforsaken place.’ First a quick, temporary solution since I, you know, had a goblin rebellion to stop. Then I made a nice little mausoleum thing underground.”

“You’re too much sometimes.”

“Says the guy with the flair for dramatics and extravagance.”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~
You wanted to bash your head on the table when you read about Potter being punished for fighting off a dementor. They really were going all out to try to make him look crazy, weren’t they? Worse, at least some people in the Ministry were involved with Voldemort. You sighed and leaned against Victor.

“It’s not your problem this time.”

“It is if large, pink, and stupid up there is working to cover it up, too.”

You strongly considered gagging when you walked into the DADA room for the first time that year. Pink was tolerable in most circumstances. But the sheer amount of it in this room… ugh. And then she made you put away your wand and read a child’s book. If this is what that Ministry considers ‘proper’ education, it’s no wonder they all suck at their jobs. (The late Professor Sharp excluded, of course.) You silently and wandlessly set some papers on her desk on fire out of annoyance.
----

“Are you sure you want to see this?” you asked again, standing in front of Victor’s grave.

“Your morbid curiosity has rubbed off on me.”

“Suit yourself.” You grabbed the mallowsweet and went through the motions.

Victor whistled in appreciation. He followed you inside the small space and stared at his (closed and solid) coffin. It was well made – you had it crafted as opposed to transfiguring something yourself – and as extravagant as you could afford. You also paid for the charms to preserve the body, but never opened the coffin to check. Those were mostly to keep the smell of decaying flesh out.

“Thank you,” he whispered, running his hand over the carvings. “I always figured I was left out there to rot, or get found by the Ministry and… disposed of. This is more than I deserve.”

“Don’t get started on not ‘deserving’ things, or you’ll sound like Sebastian.” You put the necklace on, then tucked it under your shirt. Can’t have a Slytherin running around with a badger necklace, after all.

The two of you stood outside and watched as the mausoleum sank back into the ground. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and you looked to the sky with your wand out. Not five seconds later, a shadow fell over you. A net – no, a web – was easily burned before it reached you. But where there’s a web, there’s a spider. Now standing back-to-back with Victor, wands at the ready, eyes appeared. Way too many eyes, completely surrounding you. “That’s a lot of spiders,” you whispered. Not more than you could handle, but still a lot.

Just as the spiders moved to start closing in, there was the rustling of a large beast. Some hissing noises later, they backed off. You furrowed your brows. That definitely wasn’t parseltongue, but what could ---

“Oh dear lord. Fuck this shit, I’m out.” You opened your bag and started pulling your brooms out, because you were not about to deal with a spider that’s nearly as tall as the trees surrounding it.

“Be at ease, old friends. By my word, my children will not harm you.”

It spoke. The damned thing just spoke. You were going to die. Then the words registered. “’Old friends?’ You’re not the spider from America, are you?”

“Indeed I am, thanks to some smuggling from Hagrid. I knew we would meet again.”

“But… you’re a boy spider.”

“I am.”

“And these are your children?”

“They are.”

“Female spiders eat the male spiders after mating.”

“Most spiders, yes. But most spiders aren’t magical and don’t speak.”

He’s got you there. “Well, thanks for saving us. We’ll just be getting out of your way, then. Sorry for intruding, have a nice life!” You finished fishing the brooms out, handed one to Victor, and took off.

Behind you, you heard a sigh. “I apologize. She still doesn’t like spiders.”

There was a weird sound that might have been the spider laughing. “It’s fine. Be careful, old friend.”

Victor quickly caught up to you, with how slow you were going. “Small world.”

“Indeed.”

You disillusioned yourselves when the castle was within sight, and snuck your way from the Astronomy tower down to your common room.
---

Underbridge was driving you crazier by the day, and each new rule nailed into the stone made you roll your eyes harder. It reached the point that you felt so bad for Trelawney that you actually took the time to pronounce her name correctly, even to yourself. (You also wrote your mother about her predicament, in hopes the teacher could find some comfort in another Seer.)

From your position at the bar in Hog’s Head, you were able to keep an eye on both Potter’s group and the guy listening in on that group. He seemed surprisingly undangerous, considering he looked very suspicious and was sitting in a very suspicious bar. In your defense, you and Victor were only there because you wanted to see if the old Ashwinder hideout was still in use. It wasn’t, but then you were too dirty to want to be seen in the Three Broomsticks.

When Potter reached the end of his story, you stood up and walked over to him. You placed a firm hand on his shoulder and leaned down to whisper. “Next time you want to have a secret meeting, don’t do it in the most suspicious building in town. You stand out, and it’s so quiet in here most of us can hear you.”

You left the confused students behind you and Victor followed. He looked at you. “So much for not getting involved.”

“It was just some simple advice. Nothing more. Now if you don’t mind, I need a bath.”

Victor smirked and held you by the waist as you walked. “You know, if we sneak into the prefect’s bathroom, we could –“

You laughed and nudged him with your shoulder. “Don’t even try it, dork.”

He fake gasped. “’Dork?’ I have never been so insulted in any of my lives. And you said some pretty mean things back in America.”

“I did, didn’t I? I’m not really sorry, though.”

“I never expected you to be.”

The two of you walked in comfortable silence.
----

The two of you easily dodged Pinky and her Inquisitors when going to the Room of Requirement several weeks later. You were very confused, however, when not your door appeared. Opening the door, you groaned when you saw Potter and Friends Plus in a training room.

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered.

Granger made her way towards you. “How did you find this place?” she asked suspiciously.

“Don’t get uppity with me; I’ve been coming here since first year.” You looked around and spotted your door forming on an upper level. “Ah, there it is. Now ---”

“You’re here to join Dumbledore’s Army?”

“Ew, no. I don’t care about you losers, I’m just here for that door. So if you’ll---”

“Sign this.”

“Hell no.”

“It’s just to make sure you don’t tell anyone.”

“I literally just told you that I’ve been keeping this secret for five years.” Technically much longer. “Aren’t you supposed to be smart?” Your grip on Victor’s wrist tightened.

Sebastian made himself known by stepping out from behind a group. “Just let her through. The only thing she cares about is being alone with her boyfriend. If she resorts to violence, you’re all screwed.”

Some sixth year Gryffindor you never cared to remember piped up. “A duel, then? She wins, they pass through unbothered. Our side wins, she signs?”

You rolled your sleeves up and smiled. “Oh, I’m always up for a duel.” Especially since the Crossed Wands temporarily scattered until short, pink, and dumb leaves. She still hasn’t figured out why her papers catch fire.

When no one immediately volunteered, Potter took a hesitant step forwards. “I guess I’ll do it?”

“Stand up straight and don’t ask statements. Easiest way to lose support is to let everyone know that you don’t have confidence in yourself. Fake it until you make it, if you have to.” To his credit, Potter did stand up straighter and looked a hair more determined.

The duel started and you easily blocked his Expelliarmus. He let out a bunch of basic attacks, all of which you blocked (without the help of your necklace) or dodged. “Too slow. Most of Voldemort’s supporters are adults with actual battle experience. Expelliarmus is a valid technique – but only if you manage to hit them.”

You sent a flurry of basic attacks back at him, most of which hit. “Furthermore,” you let the next Expelliarmus reach you and ignored your wand. “Most adults know wandless magic.” You quietly set his sleeve on fire. “Or worse, wordless magic. You can’t protect yourself against an unknown threat. And in a proper war, no one is going to wait for you to put out your sleeve before continuing the attack. Just like you should have tried to stop me after disarming me.” Silently summoning your wand back to you, you pouted at it. “Now, it seems that my wand is quite upset that I just let it go like that, so I’m going to end it.”

Potter was encased in ice before anyone could react. The rest of the students parted as you dragged Victor to your door. “Oh, and Granger. A silly little hex won’t stop someone who really wants to tell. If you all remember nothing else from tonight, remember this: There is no honor in war.”

As soon as the door was closed behind you, Victor pulled you up to his height and held you between the door and himself. His lips assaulted yours before you even took a breath. Despite your severe lack of oxygen, you kissed back.

“You have no idea how attractive you are when you’re out for blood.”

“Oh, I think I have some idea.” Considering he has never kissed you like that before. And that you knew for a fact that wasn’t his wand in his pocket. You gave him a gentler kiss. “Mm, I’m still not over the fact that I get to do this while you’re conscious.”

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You leaned forwards again, but he leaned back.

“No, I’m going to worry about it. That’s weird, even for you.”

You sighed and unhooked your legs from his waist to stand up properly. At this rate, you were going to be a virgin forever. “I kissed you goodbye that time you took me to your room. After I killed you the first time I kissed you – that swell of emotion and magic is how I accidently got your body to the Forbidden Forest. I nearly kissed you after killing you again in America, but there were too many people.”

He laughed lightly and shook his head. “Your insanity defies all house concepts.” There was a light kiss to your forehead. “Possibly what I love most about you.”

You froze, eyes widening as your brain stopped working. Absently, you felt the flush on your cheeks, and the little brainpower you had left could only wonder if embarrassment is what caused spontaneous combustion. Okay, so maybe this type of reaction is why you’re going to die a virgin.

Victor smirked at you, and as attractive as it was now, you knew it would only get worse as the years went on. That damned look almost killed you when he was older. Maybe it will be better now that you’re the same age?
-----

You were assaulted by two Weasley’s shortly before Christmas break. Luckily, it was the two Weasleys you liked (especially last year; with their hair long, they looked a lot like Garreth, and Garreth was fairly attractive...) Not that you actually told anyone you liked the Gryffindor twins, of course.

“Here’s our favorite Slytherin!”

“What a coincidence we’re all in the library at the same time.”

You looked between them. “We haven’t been properly introduced, and I’m your favorite? You’re trying to flatter the wrong snake.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You look like the type of girl who likes sweets,”

“And we have a fun new recipe ---”

“Absolutely not,” you said sternly. “If my great-great grandmother taught me anything, it’s to never take an experiment from a Weasley.”

The twins laughed. (And no, you weren’t sure which was which yet). “She sounds like a lovely woman.”

“A lovely woman who knew our great-great uncle, no doubt.”

You sighed. “Assuming you mean Garreth, yes. She supposedly even helped him steal ingredients for some of his experiments on occasion.”

They looked at each other, then back at you. “You wouldn’t happen to be named after this great-great grandmother of yours, would you?”

“… I am.”

“Well, if you ever feel like talking about ‘the good old days,’ Uncle Garreth had a living portrait made of himself so that he could keep sharing his stories and ideas.”

You swallowed the rest of the candy that was in your mouth. “If I ever feel the need to get information on Gryffindors in the 1890s, I’ll let you know.” You unwrapped another piece popped it in. “Until then, stop – for fuck’s sake, not again.” These were not your candies. Looking up, you saw the twins quickly retreating (and slightly shaking) backs. Garreth pulled the same thing when he was desperate for a second opinion – it was a well known fact that you’d habitually eat anything put within reach and not even notice.

Less than a minute later, you started smelling colors and seeing air. Hopefully, you didn’t look as confused as you felt. Though you were concerned – isn’t there an illegal Muggle drug that did things like this? Maybe you’ll have to talk to the Weasley’s on purpose after all. For now, you’ll stay put until it wears off.
---

Victor sat across from you on the train. “Did you ever figure out what happened to my castle? It seems to be staffed with house elves, but no one knows who’s paying them.”

“Your castle? I…” your eyes widened as you suddenly stood up. “I own that!”

“Yes, I believe you’ve said that before.”

“Be right back.”

You dashed out of the compartment and down the train, looking for a Weasley. Any Weasley, but preferably the twins. Most of the family seemed to be in the same area, and they all looked surprised at your sudden appearance. “I need to speak with Garreth. Also, tone down whatever was up with those candies; I’m pretty sure stuff like that is illegal among Muggles.”

The twins looked at each other, then you, grinning. Everyone else looked lost. “We’ll try to arrange a visit.”

“And your input is appreciated--”

“And duly noted.”

Straightening yourself, you nodded in a much calmer manner. “Right. Well then. I’ll---”

“Stop talking to Gryffindors and sit down. You’re making the rest of us look bad,” Victor said from behind you. He pulled you back a few steps and closed the door, leaving you alone on the walkway – ignoring, of course, the many curious faces peering from the windows of other compartments.

(When your father called you down before school started again, you almost cried seeing Arthur sitting in the living room with a large picture of a grinning Garreth. “I never should have doubted you when you said we’d meet again.”

“I’m hurt you ever doubted me at all. That being said – I don’t remember ever saying that. Only handing you an envelope.”

“To be expected. Apparently, you used some crazy old ritual that let you see different branches of the future, take actions to sway your life to head towards a specific one, and then forget you ever knew the spell to begin with. Then you said that you had to be the one to come to me, otherwise the knowledge would drive you insane.”

“Sounds like something I’d do.” You ignored the curiously impressed looks of the adults around you. After some talking, you were handed a manila folder – apparently, you had been paying the house elves. Well, the Weasley’s gave them your money, from an account you made separate from the one left to Ominis and Anne. You don’t think you’ve ever been more financially responsible than during the years you were dead.)
----

You smiled with the rest of the students at the twin’s big exit. Hopefully they’ll manage to open that joke shop they kept going on about. For you, however, this year couldn’t possibly end fast enough. That damn Bumbridge woman needs to go.

(When she did wander out into the forest with the Potter Co, you were only marginally upset that you weren’t involved. But very grateful she ran out of Veritaserum and was taken care of before she got to you. Gods knew what kind of things you’d say.)

You walked up to Professor Binn’s desk after class. “You wanted to speak with me?”

“Yes. The last area of study before OWLs is about the goblin rebellion in the nineteen hundreds. What I teach is more accurate than the official history books, seeing as the conclusion happened in my own home. You may skip these lessons, if you’d like.”

“Why?”

“Did you think I would not recognize the Hero of Hogwarts herself? I’m not sure why you’re back, but I do know that hearing of your life through someone else’s eyes is uncomfortable at best.”

“I… thank you, Professor. I’ll consider it.”

(After careful consideration, you decided to suffer through the class. Victor hadn’t been excused, after all. It was only fair. And in the end, it actually ended up being the most interesting bit of history. Binn’s deviation from the source material was actually worth it this time, because “at the time, we as teachers agreed it would be best for the student to protect her from as much press and politics as possible. Now that she is safe, I believe it would be an insult to her memory to not tell the most accurate version of events. After all, the final battle happened beneath our very feet.”)
---

You got “Outstanding” in all your normal classes, and even squeezed an “Exceeds Expectations” in potions. Barely, and probably only because you’re a Slytherin, but you did it.

“So why did the Weasley’s have my house again?”

“Apparently, I had great faith in their ability to continue their family line. So I gave everything to Garreth, who told his family to ‘keep an eye out for a crazy girl that knows more than she should, including our name.’ I tipped Author off when I ran into him in Diagon Alley once, so they had the twins keep an eye on me to see if the rest fit.”

“Buy why the twins? There’s one in our year, and a girl just below us.”

You smiled. “They’re practically carbon copies of him, and he was a good friend. It’s obvious they’d be the ones I dislike the least.”

The two of you were sitting in your backyard as you idly made a flower crown out of dandelions. It was likely the only time you’d see each other over the summer, so you decided to wait until you got your OWL results back so you could celebrate. Too bad there were four sets of eyes watching your every move. It’s like they didn’t trust you, or something.

“So, are you going to take Advanced Potions next year?”

“Hell no. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. Snape only accepts Outstanding students. I’ll stick with my Beasts and Alchemy, thanks.”

“How are you good at Alchemy? Half of it is basically Potions.”

“Excuse you, only a third of it is almost Potions, thanks. Besides, I’m considering making the Spagyric branch cool again.”

“It was never cool to begin with.”

“It was with the Hufflepuffs….” You glanced to the side and saw the adults talking amongst themselves. “By the way, have there been any changes?”

“A few more gifts, but nothing nearly as large or obvious as previously. It’s still new, though, so I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”

"Naturally."