#aanoia

“I am so glad,” Angelina says, leaning in, no longer paying attention to the front.

Alicia nods in agreement. “Finally, we’re even with the boys; we’ve been outnumbered since first year.”

Y/n quietly laughs, sparing the boys a glance, “They said you’d feel that way.”

Fred kicks her foot under the table, “Now you’re stuck with us.” He grins at her, George sporting a matching look.

“I wonder who you’ll be rooming with,” Lee adds.

Alicia hums, “What a coincidence that we’ve an extra bed in our room.” She glances at Angelina, who nods.

“It’s like fate.”

“Fate, huh?” George muses, catching Y/n’s eye. Etoile still lies in his lap, purring quietly as he strokes her head.

She smiles smally, “What a load of boloney.”

It was to little surprise that Y/n was, in fact, placed in the three-person dorm with Angelina and Alicia. Her stuff was already in her room once she arrived, in front of the bed next to the window. She opened her trunk and unpacked her things, taking her time to neatly put her folded clothes into her drawers and to arrange her trinkets on her side table. Y/n pauses when she comes across a frame, inside which is a photo of her family. It was taken when she was a baby, and she’s being held by her grandfather. Her little eyes looked up at the man in awe, and he smiled lovingly at her, like she was the only thing in the world. That was the last photo taken of her grandparents before they passed due to unknown circumstances. She sets the photo down, rubbing her eyes whilst being careful not to smudge her makeup.

Angelina sits beside her on her bed, “Hey, we have a tradition where we sneak into the boys’ dorm to eat candy and joke about. Would you like to come?”

Y/n tears her eyes from the photo, “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“That’d be the last thing you’d do.” She wraps her arm around her shoulders. “I would like you to be there, and I’m sure everyone else would agree with that.”

She offers Angelina a small smile, “Then I’d love to come.”

“Perfect, change into your pajamas and take off your makeup, all that jazz, then we’ll head up together. Alicia is waiting for us in the Common Room.” Angelina stands. “Don’t tell anyone, but she’s got a small crush on Abel Willows. He’s a fourth year, though. She’s with him.”

Y/n nods with a soft hum, “Is he cute?”

The girl shrugs, “Eh, enough. Do you have a hot French boyfriend or something?”

“Mm, no.” She shakes her head, pulling her pajama shorts out of her drawers. “I am only thirteen.”

“Some start young. Who am I to judge?”

Y/n laughs softly, “Well, no. No boyfriend.”

“Yet.” Angelina wiggles her brows, “The world is your oyster, babes. Hogwarts provides many fine men and women.”

George tosses a rubber ball into the air and catches it easily, taking a bean from their shared box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. He grimaces at the taste, gagging slightly. Vomit. He listens as Fred and Lee speak to each other, bouncing ideas off each other.

“Maybe she’s a long-lost French princess.” Lee muses, hitting Fred square in the face with a peppermint toad.

Fred hums, popping the candy into his mouth, “I can definitely see that. Do you think she’ll teach me French?”

George snorts, shaking his head, “I think she’ll quickly find you’re a lost cause, then.”

“I know French,” Lee says confidently.

Fred quirks a brow and nods him along, “Go on then.”

“My friend taught me this, goes to Beauxbatons himself.” Lee clears his throat. “Je suis excité parce que tu es très canon.” (Translation: I am horny because you are very hot)

The girls stand at the door, and Y/n’s eyes are wide. She clears her throat, her cheeks painted by a faint pink.

“What did he just say?” Fred asks Y/n, and she shakes her head.

Lee glances at her, “What? I don’t know what it means, but my friend had me say that to a girl I thought was cute.”

“And what was the outcome of that?” Y/n asks quietly, embarrassed.

Lee pauses and scratches his head, “She slapped me?”

Y/n nods, “Valid reaction.”

“What did he say?” Alicia asks as she steps into the room, pulling the girls with her.

George scoots over so someone can sit beside him and use his bed as a backrest as well. “I’d like to know as well, I mean, if it warrants a slap.”

“I need to know if I should be slapping him as well-” Fred joins in.

Y/n lowers herself next to George, “Uh- well, you told her…” She looks down at her hands. “That you were- I’m not sure I actually know the English word for it.”

Angelina shoves Fred over and sits next to him, “Do your best. Maybe try to explain it and we can fill in the blanks.”

“Right well, it is when you find someone attractive and you… feel things?” Y/n was embarrassed. She had just met these people, and she was trying to explain what such an explicit word meant. What a school this is.

Lee tilted his head, “Like feelings? Having a crush on someone?”

Y/n shakes her head, “No, no. More. Physically.”

Alicia furrows her brows, “Butterflies? Or…” Her eyes widen and her jaw drops. “No way.”

Angelina stifles a laugh behind her hand, “Horny?”

Y/n’s eyes light up, and she nods, pointing, “Yes! Yes. You have said that you are horny because she is very hot.”

Lee pales and reddens simultaneously, and he drops his head into his hands, shaking his head in disbelief. “I need new friends.”

George grins, “Apparently.”

Fred places his hand over his heart and waves at him seductively, “I, for one, am flattered. I didn’t know I had such an effect on you, Lee Jordan.” The group bursts into laughter, and even Lee laughs behind his hands.

Minutes later, the group is passing around candies and stories. Fred eats one in particular that makes his voice rise multiple octaves and fluctuate as he talks about the first-ever prank he and his twin pulled in Hogwarts. The prank was rather small, and something George commented was “amateur”, but it amazed Y/n nonetheless. Students at Beauxbatons were too afraid of punishment to participate in activities like such activities. Consequences were strict, and many people were occupied with being perfect in all ways.

Fred stands suddenly; the effect of the candy has worn off completely. “Frenchie, my friend, I have a question for you.”

Y/n nods, “Yes?”

“Will you speak to us in French? Woo us, perhaps?”

Angelina scoffs, “Fred, sit down and shut up. That’s a weird thing to ask of someone.”

Alicia shrugs, glancing over to Y/n, “I like listening to French people speak, though, so I understand. They speak so beautifully.”

A faint blush spreads across Y/n’s face, “I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“Introduce yourself in French, maybe?” George offers.

Y/n hums, “Bonjour, je m’appelle Y/n L/n. J’ai a treize ans, et j’habi-”

Lee interrupts her, “How do you do that thing with the 'r’s?”

“Thing with the 'r’s?” The girl glances around questioningly and shrugs. “I don’t know, I just do.”

“Teach me how to say 'My name is George, and I am amazing, ' in French,” Fred says.

George rolls his eyes, “You’re not George.”

“Je m’appelle George, et je suis incroyable.” Y/n smiles. Fred nods, attempting to say the sentence exactly how she did. Y/n snorts, nodding slowly. “Sure. I could understand that enough.”

Fred grins, “I’m basically French.”

Angelina rolls her eyes and pinches his side, causing him to flinch away from her, “You’re annoying.”

As the air gets colder, the friendships between the third-year students only grow stronger. Y/n and the twins had grown particularly close, and she finds that every letter sent home involves them in some way, shape, or form. Her parents were happy, but they advised her to stay out of their antics, as they wouldn’t be satisfied hearing she got detention due to one of their pranks. Y/n would reassure them, then turn around and help the two boys plan their mischievous acts, though she never directly participated. Y/n had attempted to teach her friends some French, but nothing but a few funny-sounding words or phrases actually stuck, so she found herself giving up rather quickly.

Eventually, Christmas break rolled around. Y/n had received a letter a few weeks prior from her parents, explaining that they had to go to America for business and couldn’t house her over break. Thankfully, the twins had gotten a similar letter, explaining how their parents were visiting their older brother, Charlie, in Romania. The three of them bid goodbye to the other half of their friend group and then spent Christmas break doing various activities together. Snowball fights were frequent, and often included Harry and Ron, and they were even able to get professors to join in once.

The actual day of Christmas was spent opening gifts from family and friends, and playing various pranks on the two younger boys, which Y/n had actually participated in. If the trio wasn’t close before, they’re inseparable now. With inside jokes they didn’t even realize were created, or laughing just because the others existed. By the time their friends came back, they felt as if they’d been gone for years, missing out on jokes that had the three of them clutching their stomachs in laughter. But their friends didn’t mind; in fact, it was entertaining for them.

The year came to a close faster than any of them had liked. Y/n was walking with the girls, and they were speaking about meeting up during the summer. Angelina and Alicia wanted to visit France with Y/n, and she was already thinking about how she would propose the idea to her parents. Meanwhile, the twins, with the help of Lee, had been preparing for their end-of-year prank, which they wanted to be better than ever. Y/n had been informed of the ones they pulled the previous years, and she had nodded along, grateful she wasn’t present for those. She could only hope this year that she had gotten close enough to them to be spared from their unforgiving antics.

Her hopes crashed and burned the moment she walked into the Great Hall. Orange slime pours over her and her friends, covering her completely. She gasps and immediately gags as the substance reaches her taste buds. Maniacal laughter bursts out beside the three girls as Y/n wipes goo from her eyes, the others following along. They glare at the boys furiously, but Y/n’s face lights up suddenly as she walks towards the boys.

“George, you look like you need a hug.” She says with a grin.

George stops laughing and shakes his head, “No- no, I definitely do not.” But he doesn’t have time to move out of her way as she wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders, effectively getting goo on the boy.

This made Fred and Lee laugh harder, to the point where snorts were falling from Fred’s lips, and Lee was basically wheezing. Unfortunately for them, the other two girls had decided to follow suit, and they hugged the other boys suddenly. There’s a moment of silence before the entire group bursts into laughter, clinging to each other. Professors and students watch curiously, grins sporting some faces. Professor McGonagall shakes her head as she approaches the group, waving her wand silently to instantly clean all the goo away.

“It would do you six good to take your seats.” She looks to the twins, who were peeling away from their respective huggers. “Mr. and Mr. Weasley, you are lucky that there are no further evenings to spend cleaning my classroom. Move along.”

The six children took their usual spots at the Gryffindor table, listening intently as the boys laughed about the others that have fallen victim to their prank that day. Y/n takes the moment to watch her friends with a content smile. The bonds she had gained with these five had grown unbreakable quickly, and she finds herself grateful that her family had stumbled upon the Weasleys. It brought her to the twins, who brought her to Lee, who eventually brought her to Angelina and Alicia. She had grown more fond of these in a year than she had of anyone in her lifetime in France. These were her people, whom she had no doubt would be in her life until the end of it, and then beyond.

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She leans against the wall, pressing her fingers to the cool surface. Even the stone feels older here, like the castle itself has forgotten this corridor existed.

A fly incessantly buzzes around Y/n's head, making unsteady circles around the circumference of it. Her eyes follow it when it's in view, her hands twitch to swat it away. She doesn't get to chance to, however, as the flapping of wings chokes the silence. Her head swivels sharply, her heart catching. Perched in one of the broken windows is a raven, larger than most, with beady black eyes and glossy black feathers. It stares at her, not with menace, but knowing.

She narrows her eyes at the bird, “Go on, then. If you're here to deliver doom, get it over with.”

The raven blinks subtly, and its head tilts to the side. Then hops from the sill and further into the corridor. Y/n hesitates, but the mysterious pull of the raven forces her to lift from the wall. Her feet drag against the floor gently as she follows the bird down the corridor. She pauses at the end, looking over the blank stone. There's nothing. The raven stares once again, standing still in front of the wall. She glances at it uncomfortably, the hairs on her neck standing up.

“There's nothing.” She says, and mentally curses herself. Merlin, she's talking to a damn bird. The raven doesn't respond, and she realizes that if she hadn't just seen it move, she'd think it was taxidermy by its stillness. She bites the inside of her cheek, looking again. This time, she notices a small crack that diminishes suddenly.

In the Slytherin common room, it's private knowledge to the upperclassmen that there's a short hall. At the end of it hangs a large tapestry depicting Salazar Slytherin’s serpent, ancient and unsettling. The tapestry is as old as Hogwarts, the fading colors melting into the greenish gray stone. If one were to run their hand along the head of a serpent, it would reveal a subtle seam in the stone. A result of the cunning Salazar Slytherin himself. He created the secret passage to hide powerful magic from those unworthy, however, the one found in the Slytherin common room had been turned into a secondary commons. Where the elder kids could peacefully relax, away from the younger years.

It's a common belief that Salazar had littered these secret entrances throughout the castle. Inside held magic that not even the most advanced wizards could understand. They're said to hold magical objects–vials of forbidden potions, cursed lockets, serpents' fangs- dangerous magic that must be hidden.

Y/n runs her fingertips over the crack, to its mysterious vanishing spot, and a short breath leaves her. The same crease. Her hand continues, her palm falling flat against the stone. In the middle of what she assumed to be the doorway, her fingers catch on an almost imperceptible raised pattern resembling a snake's scales.

She glances around the dim hallway, searching for a clue to opening the door. Her eyes lock onto the raven, who suddenly has a piece of crumpled parchment crushed in its beak. She leans down, carefully removing the paper, and standing back up quickly. She swallows thickly as she unfolds the parchment. The ink writing is neat, but it looks rushed.

Where scales of stone conceal the key, the serpent's tongue will set it free.

“Serpent's tongue,” she reads aloud quietly, glancing at the door in contemplation.

With a deep sigh, she leans forward. The tip of her tongue meets the cool stone. The wall didn't shift so much as a shiver–a subtle ripple ran through the surface like a warm breath exhaled through cold lips. A low, grinding hum stirred beneath the floor, creaking with exhaustion. Like the castle itself, awakening after a century-long slumber.

There's a faint click, and then a second. An outline of the serpent bled to life, followed by the doorway. It was glowing briefly with a pale green light, and dust lifted in spirals from the seams as they split. Y/n takes a small step back as the stone parts like theatre curtains.

There's no creaking of old hinges, just a soft sigh of air escaping from somewhere sealed for centuries. A cool draft rolled out, making the girl shiver, carrying the scent of old magic, books, and damp stone. Then came silence, eerie and expectant. Y/n peered into the entrance, stepping forward with trepidation. She breathes out, and her breath fogs in front of her. She wraps her robe tightly around her body, her wand and the note clutched tightly in her grip.

The raven suddenly takes off in flight, gliding into the room without fear. The weight on Y/n's heart lightens slightly, and she gains the courage to enter the room completely. The passage opens into a tall, circular chamber carved into the stone, its walls smoothed by magic. The ceiling curves into a high dome, veined with pulses of faint silver lines–like starlight trapped in rock. At the very top, a cluster of enchanted crimson crystals, dim and flickering like dying stars.

Around the room stand tall alcoves, each housing strange relics behind glass. One had a floating vial full of dark clouds, with small and short zaps of electricity mimicking lightning. Another had a feather suspended mid-fall, the edges glowing with magic. And then, the one that drew her attention the most was a candle burning seemingly in reverse. As the flame stands tall and proud, wax slowly builds itself around it, as if attempting to create a barrier of safety for the fragile flame. On one wall, she notices a faint inscription, barely noticeable behind a torn tapestry. The words are in Parseltongue, only to be read by those who can speak the tongue of the snakes. Y/n, unfortunately, does not possess such power.

The raven squawks from the rafters, catching the girls' attention. Her eyes caught a large figure draped with green velvety cloth. A sliver of a gold frame peaks through the edges, and Y/n hesitantly clutches the cloth, pulling it off. Dust arises, dancing in the air as she stares in awe at the mirror. Along the top of the intricate tarnished gold frame lies an inscription.

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi

She then focuses on the mirror itself, and a soft gasp leaves her throat. In the mirror, she stands, not alone. To her left is Sirius Black, eyes soft, not smirking or guarded like usual, but unconditionally open. He's holding her hand, looking back at her in the reflective glass. To her right is her deceased sister, very alive and well, no signs of illness or death creeping in. Her sister looks proud, safe, like she's protected from the life Y/n couldn't shield her from.

Above them, in the rafters, is the massive raven, watching her once again. It perches calmly, wings folded, and head tilted in quiet understanding. It glows faintly blue, perhaps a reflection of the light on its inky feathers. It could compare to the moon, and instead of being the harbinger of death, the raven has become a guardian. A symbol of trust.In this reflection, there's no impending war. No choosing between good and evil. There are people gathered behind her, family. Both hers and people she doesn't recognize, all adorning smiles and love.

The raven squawking breaks Y/n out of her trance, and the image in the mirror becomes warped. She exhales shakily and retrieves the bag she had set down in her stupor. She slings it over her shoulder with haste and turns on her heel. The bird squawks again, urging her to hurry. So she runs.

She runs out of the room, through the empty corridor once again. In her hurry, she misses a step, tripping over a fallen broom. She braces her fall, hissing slightly as a protruding sliver of metal slices her cheek. Her palms meet the old wood, and she breathes deeply for a moment. There's a faint buzzing above her, weak and pleading. She raises her gaze to find the fly from before, trapped in sticky silk. A spider wraps its prey in a cocoon, and she swears under her breath, racing to her feet.

She leaves the empty corridor and is greeted with the cheerful warmth of the main hallways. Students push past her, the final class of the day finally coming to a close. She furrows her brows, glancing out a window. The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, bringing light to the amount of time she had spent in that room, staring at that mirror. It was lunchtime when she had sought solace in the quiet of the abandoned corridor, and now she’s sure the students are heading towards the Great Hall for supper.

Y/n’s breathing is uneven, so she leans against the wall and inhales shakily. She rests her hand over her thumping heart, quietly grounding herself– you’re fine, you’re fine– and she turns and walks down the hall, her head bowed.

Loud footsteps echoed from around the bend.

“Well, well. Look who decided to haunt the castle today.” Sirius Blacks voice was light, smug, and irritatingly charming.

Y/n’s breath catches in her throat as she looks up, blinking against the golden light pouring in through the windows. Sirius, James, and Remus strolled towards her, the first two laughing between themselves. All messy hair, loose ties, and warmth she wasn’t ready for.

“Thought you’d finally joined the shadows for good,” James adds with a grin. “Missed all of Charms. Flitwick actually looked disappointed. We almost sent a search party.”

Y/n straightens, trying to slip on her usual mask. But her cold exterior cracked slightly at the edges, going unnoticed by all but one.

“Maybe I just didn’t want to be behind you lot and inhale your collective lack of impulse control.”

Sirius barks a laugh, hands shoved in his pockets. “You wound me, Y/n/n. I was this close to offering you my last Sugar Quill in class.”

She rolls her eyes, “Please. You’d only offer it if you’d already licked it.” Remus snorts, James pretends to gag at the thought.

Sirius tilts his head, watching her a second longer than usual as the other two boys get distracted by a flock of ducks outside the window. Something in her expression must have flickered, something fragile, because his smirk fades just a little.

“You alright?” He asks, quietly enough, only she caught it. His hand raises to her cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing over the cut. “What happened?”

She hesitates, almost says no. She pulls away from his hand. “I'm fine.” She smoothes out her robes. “What’s it to you?”

The boy sighs, opening his mouth to respond. He doesn’t get a chance to, however, as James slings his arm around Y/n’s shoulders.

“Come on. We’re heading to dinner. You can judge our table manners in real time.”

Y/n prepares to protest, but James moves to link arms with her like it's normal, and Remus falls into step beside him. So, she walked, still carrying the weight of what she saw, just now surrounded. The raven stays perched in her memory, wings outstretched for flight. But for now, she walked beside the boy who’d looked at her like that in the glass, not knowing that he already had.

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Y/n sighed, hands on her hips, as she stared at the bucket of tangled Christmas lights. She thought hard on how she could possibly do this, the years before she’s always had a boyfriend or her dad do it. But this year, not only was she single but her dad was visiting her sister in America this Christmas.

‘If only magic was real,’ She thought while shaking her head and beginning to work on the Christmas lights. 

Y/n struggled to pull out a single strand, so she decided to just pour them all out instead. She sat on her snowy lawn, thankful she had decided to wear her snow gear before she came out. Y/n sat there, pulling roughly on the lights and fighting off frustrated tears.

After ten minutes of trying she threw the lights onto the snow in annoyance and flopped onto her back, spreading out her arms and legs as if she was making a snow angel. She glared at the snow falling from the sky.

From inside the next door house, a little boy with charcoal hair watched the woman intently from the window. His breath fogged up the window, so every breath he exhaled he wiped his sleeve against the cold glass.

“Harry, it’s rude to stare.” The boy's dad, James, said as he hugged his son from behind and pulled him up. Harry laughed as James tickled his stomach.

“I think she needs help, dada.” Harry mentioned - his lisp making his “s” sound like a “th” - and James cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, what makes you think that?” He asked his son.

“Look, she can’t get her Christmas lights to go apart.” He explained and James peered out the window to see his neighbors figure in the snow, struggling to untangle lights.

James ruffled his son's hair and set him back down, “She’ll figure it out, bud, don’t worry.”

Y/n sighed in relief as the Christmas lights were finally untangled. She stood up, her legs cracking loudly, and picked up the connected strands. She connected the end to a long extension cord. Y/n waddled over to the ladder and prayed her driveway didn’t have any ice she couldn’t see as she climbed up cautiously. 

A gust of wind blew past and she gripped onto the sides roughly, closing her eyes and sending a prayer to the universe. She took another step up, and another, until she could finally reach the hooks on the edge of her house. Y/n looped the strand around the hook and brought it over to the next.

She repeated this multiple times until she got to the end. Y/n glanced at her neighbors window and smiled at the sight of the small boy looking at her from inside. He gave her a wide smile, showing his missing two front teeth. She waved at him, instantly regretting her decision.

A large gust of wind blew by and her lights flickered and zapped, causing her to startle and slip from the ladder. A loud crack filled the air and immediately she was in a warm pair of strong arms. Y/n didn’t care who it was, she just held on tightly to her savior as she tried to calm her heart.

“Are you okay?” A soft voice asked as he set her down and Y/n finally looked up.

‘What in the Hallmark Christmas movie is this?’ She wondered as she stared in the framed eyes of her hot neighbor. His front door closed loudly as his little boy ran over worriedly.

“Are you okay, Miss Y/n?” Harry asked, grabbing onto her hand with both his small ones. His snowcoat was on backwards and his scarf was in a tangle around his head, but at least he tried.

Y/n smiled and leaned down to the boy, “Oh, yes, I’m perfectly fine, Harry, thank you.” Harry took a step and wrapped his arms around the woman.

“Up, please.” He said quietly and Y/n laughed as she picked him up. James watched the interaction with awe in his eyes. He’s never seen a woman like that with Harry, not since Lily left the two for America. 

“Thank you, James. I really appreciate it.” Y/n said and James smiled.

“Of course, anytime. Let me finish the job for you though.” He offered and Y/n nodded, holding tightly onto the little boy. 

“Be careful.” Y/n warned as James climbed up the ladder. He laughed and put the strand on the last hook before sliding down the ladder.

“Easy peasy.” He boasted and Y/n rolled her eyes and set Harry down. “We better get back to our house.”

“No!” Harry complained.

Y/n held out a hand, stopping the man from dragging his kid back to their house, “Do you want to come in? I have a tree I still need to decorate and some cookies practically begging to be baked.” James was silent as he contemplated. “I have hot cocoa! With the little chunks of candy cane in it.”

James immediately nodded, “I’m sold.”

“Okay, crack the eggs carefully, Harry. We don’t want any of the shells getting into the batter, alright?”

Harry nodded, “Okay.” He smashed the egg against the bowl and cracked it perfectly and he did it again with the second egg. When the third egg came around, he hit against the bowl with just a little too much force and the insides of the egg out, half going onto the table and the other half in the bowl, egg shells going along with it.

The room was silent for a moment before Y/n began laughing, the two boys quickly joining in. Y/n shook her head in amusement as she grabbed a spoon and handed it to Harry, instructing him to fish out the egg shells as she grabbed a napkin and quickly cleaned the egg on the table.

“Harry, don’t eat the raw egg.” James said with a smile and Harry stuck his tongue out at his dad. James returned the gesture as Y/n measured a cup of flour. She handed it to Harry who dumped the flour onto his head instead of in the bowl.

“What?” Y/n asked as James stood in shock as bits of flour fell from his sons head.

“What was the point of that?” James asked and Harry laughed, the adults joining in with him to make the kitchen full of laughter once again.

“Oh, you’re such a dork.” Y/n teased. “Tell you what, the bathroom is just down the hall, I’ll finish the batter while you go let your dad clean you up, yeah?” Harry nodded and jumped off the stool, causing more flour to cover the ground in white.

“I’m sorry.” James said as he followed after his kid.

Y/n smiled, “You can use my shampoo.”

“Okay, Harry, you have to be very careful with this one. It’s very fragile.” Y/n said as she handed Harry a glass ornament. Harry nodded and held the ornament by the string.

Unavoidably, Harry tripped over a box and in an attempt to steady himself the ornament dropped to the floor and shattered into pieces. Harry immediately began crying and worry filled Y/n’s body, afraid he had been cut by the glass. She swept him off the floor and checked his bare feet to see nothing but blank skin. She looked at his hands to see them in the same condition.

“Oh, Harry, what’s wrong? Did you get hurt?” She asked as James rushed to get the broom from the kitchen. 

“I broke your tree decoration!” He said, which only made him wail louder. Y/n sat on her sofa and cradled the boy in her arms.

“Oh, love, it’s okay. It’s just an ornament. I’m just glad you’re okay.” She said quietly and James froze at the sight, broom in hand.

His heart swelled as he only fell deeper in love with his neighbor. He had always thought she was beautiful, but seeing how she interacted with Harry - both today and many previous interactions - made him feel more than just attraction. He was curious and felt a longing for her. He didn’t want her to only take up the hole Lily left in his heart, he wanted her to take his whole heart, and Harry’s too. 

Once Harry stopped crying, he quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the day and its endeavors.

“We had a really good time.” James said as the two adults walked to the front door.

“Yeah, I did too. I’ll make sure to bring over some cookies for you two.” Y/n responded with a smile, leaning against the doorframe as James took a step into the dark night. 

He turned around, “Y/n…” He hesitated.

“Yes?”

James glanced up and smiled, “There’s a mistletoe.” He said quietly and Y/n’s eyes flitted up as well. She furrowed her brows at the mistletoe, she had definitely not put that there. She didn’t even own one.

Her eyes met James again, “So it seems.”

James leaned in, and when Y/n didn’t protest he went farther. Y/n’s hand found James’ cheek and she gently connected their lips. The kiss was soft, and warm, despite the cold air nipping at their cheeks. Y/n laughed softly as they pulled apart.

“What’s so funny?” James asked with a grin.

“You’re cute.” She whispered and he was thankful the cold reddened his cheeks before she could.

“Good night.” He responded.

“Good night, James.” Y/n said and closed the door, leaning against it once he left. She slid down and sat with a giddy smile. “Definitely a Hallmark Christmas movie.”

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The girl tugs on her father’s sleeve, “Papa, peut-être qu'ils peuvent aider.” She motions to the family, and her father nods, mumbling an affirmation. He gently pulls his wife and daughter towards the family.

“Excuse me,” Her father says, his voice thickly accented. The family pauses and looks to the man expectantly. “Uh, would you be able to help us find Platform 9 ¾? We are not from here, and my daughter is transferring to Hogwarts for her third year.”

Her mother pops in, her English easier to understand, “We are simply lost on how to access the platform.”

The woman in the group gives the family of three a warm smile, “Ah, of course, we will help. You are not the only ones confused.” The small, black haired boy smiles sheepishly. “My sons are in the same year as your daughter; they can help her through the wall.” The girl's eyes find two boys, almost identical, with short red hair.

“I’m George,” One says.

“Uh, Y/n.” She introduces herself politely. “Y/n L/n.”

The other furrows his brows, “You’re not George, I am.” The girl tilts her head, confused as she glances towards the woman again.

The woman sighs, “Percy, you first.”

The tallest of the group gives Y/n and her family a polite nod before running straight for the pillar. She gasps softly as he moves through the wall and disappears. Despite going to a magical school for two years, she grew up a muggle, and magic still amazes her from time to time.

“Fred, you next.”

The shorter one of the two gives her wide eyes, “He’s not Fred, I am!” Y/n’s father hums, confused.

The other (George?) shakes his head, “Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, George.” She motions for him to move along.

George moves in front of the wall and grins at his mother, “I’m only joking. I am Fred.” Her father mumbles something in French, her mother nods along, and Y/n tries to hide a smile. The second boy, whom she thinks is the real George, looks at her with a smile.

“Come along then, we’ll go in together. It’s easier for your first time.”

Y/n glances at her parents, and they nod with encouraging smiles. She pushes her trolley forward with the boy, and together they run towards the wall. The feeling of phasing through the wall is different and leaves her skin tingly. Fred is waiting for them on the other side, and he smiles at the two of them.

“I am Fred.” He reassures, holding his hand out. She shakes it with a smile as George nods.

“And I am George. We just like messing with our mum.” He affirms with a grin.

Y/n nods, “I assumed.” Fred opens his mouth to ask a question, but he doesn’t have a chance to ask it as Y/n’s parents appear by them.

Her father looks at the boys, “May we have a final moment with our daughter? Then she is all yours.” Fred and George nod politely, and they distance themselves from the family.

Y/n’s mother pulls her into a tight hug, “Tu vas nous manquer.” (Translation: We will miss you.)

Y/n reciprocates the hug with a smile, “Et moi, toi, mama.” (Translation: And me, you.)

They pull away, and her father smiles, ruffling her hair before pulling her into a hug as well, “Reste loin des ennuis, ma puce, et n'oublie pas de nous écrire.” (Translation: Stay out of trouble, my flea, and don’t forget to write us.)

She nods as he lets her go. Her father wraps an arm around her mother, and they look at her with pride. Her father cocks his head towards the twin, silently telling her to go on. She grabs onto her trolley, and her cat meows curiously from inside its cage, having just woken up from its nap.

“Je t’aime.” She says, finally, and they reciprocate as she walks towards the two redheads, now joined by a boy with dark skin.

“Y/n, this is our friend, Lee Jordan.” Fred (she thinks) introduces.

Said boy smiles and holds out his hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Y/n takes it, “You as well.”

“Angelina and Alicia already boarded the train. They said they’d save us a compartment.” George speaks up. “They’ll be glad to have another girl in the group.”

Fred pats Y/n’s shoulder, “In case you haven’t noticed, we are adopting you as our friend. All of our friends.”

On the train, Y/n met Angelina and Alicia, and quickly decided that she liked them very much, along with the three boys. She was immensely grateful she found them at the station. She explained that had originally been attending Beauxbatons in France, but for reasons she was unaware of, her family had to move to England. Despite not wanting to, her parents had forced her to transfer schools as well. The group had told her more about Hogwarts. The way it’s run, the houses, the professors. She now knew that once she arrived at Hogwarts, she would need to be sorted into her house. She hoped for Gryffindor, solely because her newfound friends all belonged to that house. Y/n had noticed that her friends didn’t like the Slytherins much, but were indifferent to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

She looked out the window as the other began engaging in conversation. Her cat, whom she had taken out of its cage, now sat on her lap, once again napping. She watches the scenery go by, her stomach slightly unsettled. Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

“What’s your cats name?” George asks gently from beside her.

She looks over to him, “Étoile. It means star, in French.”

“Étoile,” George tries the name on his tongue and smiles. “Why star?"

She smiles as she gently pets her cat, “My mum is an astronomer. I had gone to work with her one day, and when I got home my dad had gotten me a cat. I figured it was only right to name her Étoile.”

George hums as the cat, now awake, blinks at him curiously. “Can I pet her?”

Y/n hums, and he does so gently. The cat stands, sniffing his hand, before making her way to his lap and finding a comfortable spot there. He laughs softly, looking down at the creature.

“I think she likes me.”

Y/n nods, “I think you’re right.” She makes eye contact with him and offers him a smile, which he returns happily.

Y/n finds herself in a sea of small first-years, all awaiting to be sorted. She was told by an older lady, Professor McGonagall, that she would be up to get sorted first, as they try to prioritize transfers. While they all waited, she conversed quietly with the boy from the station, and the twins’ little brother, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. They had a small dispute with a blonde boy, Draco Malfoy, but it was interrupted by Professor McGonagall, instructing the students to enter the Great Hall.

Y/n looks around the large room with awe. The ceiling was enchanted as the night sky, and there were hundreds of floating candles lighting the room. There were four rows of large tables, surrounded by students sitting impatiently in front of plates, waiting for the sorting ceremony to be over so they could eat. Her eyes meet her friends, and she waves at them, they give encouraging smiles in return, Fred even sends her a thumbs up.

As promised, her name was called first. She walks to the front of the room nervously, her stomach churning. She felt everyones eyes on her as she sits on the low stool, and a regal brown hat is lowered onto her head. Her heart beats heavily against her chest, and she breathes deeply, willing for it to slow down. A curious weight settles on her chest, something heavy, but not physical. She felt as if someone was looking, not at her, but in her. She shuts her eyes tightly.

The hat sighs deeply, before a voice fills her head, “Ah, interesting. Very interesting, indeed. You’re not an east one. There’s ambition in you - yes, yes. The kind that could climb high, if you so desire. You’ve a thirst to prove yourself, to carve out a space in history for you. That’s Slytherin’s gift, it calls to you.”

A chill runs down her spine. Her back straightens and her muscles tense. The air of the Great Hall seems tense, and she finds herself wishing she was still at Beauxbatons. “Oh? But there’s more. A fire, bright and reckless, unwilling to cower. That’s Gryffindor, loud and clear. You would fight for everything that matter. Sacrifice anything, even if that means losing it all. You are brave… more than you think, more than you admit even to yourself.”

Brave. She had always been cautious, careful. A survivor, her parents had once said, after she had recovered from a rather nasty dog attack. But she had never thought of herself as brave. However, a warmth spread throughout her chest, a spark she couldn’t name.

“Ah, and loyalty,” the Hat continued. “You care for others, fiercely, deeply, and loudly. That is Hufflepuff’s strength. You are humble. You do not seek glory, only the safety of those you hold dear. And don’t think I’ve missed the sharpness of your mind. A trait of Ravenclaw’s, no doubt. You notice things others don’t, connect things.”

Her mind swirls with thoughts. Confusion befuddles her. She knows nothing of any of this, and this Hat knows her better than she seems to know herself. It brings up things she hadn’t thought of, things she barely believes. But why would the Hat lie?

“So which is it? Shadows or fire? Loyalty or wit? You could belong to any of them. And yet you belong only to one.”

She wills for the Hat to choose, for this to be over. The weight of everyone’s stares is crushing on her, and she’s been sitting on the damned stool for what’s felt like hours, but she’s sure has only been a few minutes. The suspension of it all is leaving her on edge, and her hands grip the sides of the stool until her knuckles turn white.

“Brave.” The Hat repeats, it’s voice deeper know. Enticing, ominous. “Courage tempered with cunning, tempered with wisdom, tempered with loyalty. You will do well. Your fire shall guide you… and perhaps one day, you will change the world.”

The entirety of the Great Hall is silent, the only sound being the quiet crackles of the flames above.

“Gryffindor!”

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