KnightofTempest
patreon
Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2024-06-28 06:35:17 +0000 UTCKing's Cross Station was, unlike what some would say, not a place where Wizards could just roll in off the street in badly outdated muggle clothing and attempt to freely mix with the muggles. Such things would threaten to completely overwork the Obliviator Office to the point of breakdown if that was how it worked. Instead, there was a separate Wizarding Entrance that led into a number of branching corridors that utilized a series of space and perception-altering enchantments to shuffle wizards to the various platforms with minimal exposure to the muggles. This served to minimize the risks of causing an incident that would require Obliviation.
Really, it was only the Muggleborn Children who had to wade through the sea of muggle Londoners commuting to and from the station. I supposed that gave the current opposition faction in the Wizengamot something to point toward as an unacceptable risk related to Muggleborns without displaying too much of their overt bigotry. After all, if Muggleborn Children were exposed to muggles for a longer period of time, it followed naturally that the odds of an incident requiring the services of the Obliviator Office were increased for them over those of us raised in Wizarding Society.
As it happened, I was part of the latter group. As soon as I had everything packed away and ready to go, I cast a brief levitating charm on my trunk, as I'd had some prior instruction on how to cast a few of the first-year charms and defense curriculum before getting my wand. Then I headed over to the Floo, took a pinch of Floo powder, and after saying goodbye to Lucia, my House Elf, flooed to King's Cross Station. I found myself in a small receiving lobby with a number of floo stations dotted around a circular atrium, in the center of which stood a marble statue of Merlin, his staff raised to the sky in a triumphant gesture.
Corridors that were entered via archways placed between the floo stations and which were enchanted with spatial and perception-altering charms led off in a number of directions to a number of different platforms. Platform seven two-thirds led off to my right for service to Caerphilly, platform one and one-half led under the ocean to Ballycastle in Northern Ireland, and so forth. Platform Nine and Three Quarters led to Hogsmeade in Scotland and I found the corridor leading to that platform via the simple expedient of looking behind me.
As I did so, a gaggle of redheads erupted out of one of the other floo stations, practically bowling me over with the assemblage of people in their party. I steadied myself and my levitating trunk to avoid being run over by what had clearly been a stampede of Weasleys.
"Blimey, look at that trunk! That must've cost a fortune!" Came a voice from the herd of Redheads.
I looked over to spot the youngest of the Male Redheads staring at me. Ron Weasley had the same bright red hair and dusting of freckles as the other Weasleys in the herd of Weasleys but hadn't yet lost enough of the baby fat or grown enough to have any of the lankiness. He was wearing what looked like a burgundy jumper that had been worn enough times that the wool had gone fuzzy along with a pair of brown trousers in a shade that complimented the jumper.
I couldn't help myself, I had to smirk in amusement at his comment. My trunk was a work of art, made of Manna Ash chased in bronze, it was carved with the image of Sabinus Claudius Sophos, Military Legatus of Rome, Seer, Alchemist, Master of the Mind Arts, and the founder of the Zabini Family. The scene depicted was of his defeat of the Carthaginian War Mage Himlico the Thunderbolt at the Siege of Messina, allowing his Muggle Cousin, the Consul Appius Claudius Caudex to defeat the muggle forces besieging the city without interference from Himlico's magic. In the carving, Himlico's staff was broken by a spell of Sabinus' as Himilco himself was cast down into the sea, all while the Goddess of Luck, Fortuna, looked on from above and the Roman Army fought the Carthaginians and Syracusans in the distance.
The Trunk was also expanded and carried more than just the necessary supplies for the school year. I had sent Lucia to get me various books and potions ingredients while I was being fitted for my School Robes at Madam Malkins' and she had gone somewhat overboard. Not only had she used thousands of Galleons to buy enough of Slug and Jiggers' Inventory that I likely qualified as a part owner, but she had also spent similar sums on a copy of every book in my areas of interest that Flourish and Blotts had. She had even gone to Quality Quidditch Supplies and purchased me a Nimbus Two-Thousand! I wasn't going to complain, though. My mother had left a trail of dead husbands in her wake and the combined fortunes she had accumulated to her personal accounts would take far more than this sort of shopping spree to even begin to deplete.
"Thank you. It was my mothers'. Apparently, it had been passed down from firstborn to firstborn in my family for generations." I answered.
"I don't recognize you, Mate. You foreign?" Questioned Ron.
"I was born near Dover, but my Mother was from Sicily." I informed.
"What about your old man?" Queried Ron.
"He was from Morrocco." I supplied.
"Wait, what do you mean was? Aren't your folks here?" Pressed Ron.
"No. My father died shortly after I was born and my mother died recently due to an. . .incident." I responded, suppressing the urge to sniffle at the memory and just barely managing it thanks to my Occlumency. I was not going to break down crying in front of Ron Bloody Weasley of all people.
"Oh. Sorry, Mate. I had no clue. I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley." Offered Ron.
"Zabini. Blaise Zabini." I introduced.
"Oi, Ronniekins! You might wanna step away from him." Came a voice from behind Ron. Looking over I saw two identical Weasleys strolling up. The Twins had nearly identical mischievous grins on their faces as they walked over.
"I don't think Ickle Ronnie knows about his new friend's mother's reputation, Fred." Mused George, or possibly Fred just trying to confuse me.
"Right, you are George. If he did, he wouldn't be so quick to make friends." Confirmed Fred, or possibly George attempting to bamboozle me.
"What reputation?" Demanded Ron.
"Madame Zabini had seven husbands, having children only with her first, Haroun Shafiq, who it seems was poisoned with Weedosoros via a dart to the neck while visiting relatives in the Sudan. At the time, the DMLE suspected that it was an assassination by Pygmy Terrorists angry at being pushed off their lands by Abdullah Shafiq, Haroun's cousin. Then her next six husbands died one after the other. Never in any way that could be decisively proven to be linked with Madame Zabini, but it is still suspicious." Answered a Third Weasley, this one all prim and proper. That meant he had to be Percy.
"Your Mum killed your Dad? That's bloody mental!" Hissed Ron.
"His Dad and his six Step-dads Ronniekins." Nodded Fred.
"Yeah, a guy raised like that? He's a shoo-in for Slytherin for sure!" Agreed George.
"Just like his Mum was." Concurred Fred.
"Right, you are, Brother of Mine." Added George.
And like that, Ron got a look on his face like he'd swallowed a lemon. Apparently, the mention of my background along with the name Slytherin had made any attempt by Ron to befriend me turn toxic to him. I understood that his brothers were just trying to protect him from an unknown boy from a family that seemed as diametrically opposed to their own values as mine was, but it still hurt. Well, at least I'm sure that had been the motive for Percy to speak up. The Twins might also be having a bit of a laugh as well as trying to protect Ron. They could be like that sometimes.
Soon enough, though, the woman who was trying to wrangle the gaggle of Weasleys finally managed to get them all together and moving in one direction. Molly Weasley spared me an apologetic glance before she and the herd of redheads disappeared toward the corridor marked Platform Nine and Three Quarters. She at least knew better than to judge a book by its cover, it seemed, or in this case, an orphan by his family.
"I suppose that's what I get for choosing the drawbacks I did on the questionnaire." I muttered under my breath.
With that done, I decided there was no point in continuing to stand here. Instead, I headed down the corridor to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. This particular corridor had the portraits of the various Heads of the Railway Office of the Department of Magical Transportation. This began with the portrait of Ottaline Gambol, the Minister for Magic who founded the Railway Office and began the Hogwarts Express. Then there were the founders of the various main lines of the Magical Railways. First was Rory Sayre, founder of the Leprechaun Branch that led into Northern Ireland and from there to the rest of Wizarding Ireland, which was not separate from the rest of Wizarding Britain, unlike the muggle side of things. Then was Gwydion Wellnelly, the founder of the Welsh Green Line which ran to Caerphilly, Holyhead, and all the wizarding areas of Wales. That was followed by Hamish Burke who founded the Porlock Line that ran from King's Cross to a circuit of Little Hangleton, Ottery St. Catchpole, Godric's Hollow, and the other Wizarding areas of England before returning to King's Cross.
Ironically, most of the portraits were sleeping, snoozing away as I passed through the corridor and out into the terminal. There was a brief moment where the perception-altering enchantments would linger after exiting. It was at that moment you were supposed to dash for the divider between platforms nine and ten so that you could enter Platform Nine and Three Quarters without being noticed by the muggles. Unfortunately, the space in front of the divider was currently occupied by a messy-haired, bespectacled, boy in clothes that looked two sizes too big on him, along with the herd of Weasleys. He was asking Molly Weasley for directions to the Platform. Harry Potter had seemingly just entered the picture.
I frowned as I watched the Weasleys guide Harry through the divider onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Looking to the right, I spotted two Muggles gaping at the vanishing gaggle of children. With a sigh, I realized that the Obliviators were likely about to pop in to rectify the situation. Deciding I didn't want any part of that, I headed back into the Platform Corridor to try again. Sure enough, when I emerged the second time, the two muggles were busy snogging each other in the terminal with no sign of ever having seen something impossible. As I dashed for the divider before the effects of the perception-altering enchantment from the corridor wore off, I got a flash of blue robes in my mind's eye and knew that the Obliviators had taken care of the potential breach of the Statute.
Then I crossed the illusory barrier and entered Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Here were all sorts of wizards and witches, haughty purebloods who were only deigning to mingle with Muggleborns and the like because it was the only way to get to school, Muggleborns who looked so thrilled about everything, half-bloods with a foot in both the Muggle and Magical Worlds rolling their eyes at the haughtiness of Purebloods and the childlike wonder of the Muggleborns alike. Newspaper Stands selling the morning edition of the Daily Prophet or Quibbler alongside the latest edition of Witch Weekly and half a dozen other publications. One stand seemed to be operated by one of the Human Employees of Gringots and was selling a number of products sold by various Gringotts subsidiary companies. All of this was arranged around the piece-de-resistance.
Sitting on the tracks, belching steam, was the metallic form of the Hogwarts Express. Painted Fire-Engine Red, the venerable locomotive was practically covered in barely perceptible runes that seemed to be anchoring around a dozen enchantments to the locomotive. I could only tell what maybe three of those did, and even that was only due to having a bit of prior tutoring from my Mother and a predisposition for enchanting.
"She's beautiful." I whispered under my breath.
"I don't know, she looks like any other steam locomotive, though I suppose the design does have a certain charm to it." Came a female voice from behind me.
I turned and saw a small, brown-haired, Witch whose hair was seemingly an untamable frizzy mane. Furthermore, she had rather prominent front teeth and expressive, brown eyes. The whole effect of her appearance was to make her look like a sort of human squirrel or chipmunk. There was one witch who matched that description in the books, Hermione Granger.
"Can't you see the runes anchoring the enchantments?" I asked.
"Runes? Enchantments? No? Now that I think about it, though, there must be some sort of notice-me-not enchantment on the train to prevent normal everyday people from prying." Remarked Hermione.
"There's around a dozen enchantments on the train, I can't really figure out what they all are, though. I can spot the speed enchantment, the disillusionment enchantment, and a self-maintenance Enchantment, but that's all. I suspect if I tried to figure them all out, I'd be staring long enough for the train to pull out and leave me behind." I shrugged.
"Oh, that wouldn't be good. I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger. I'm the first person in my family to be able to use magic. Let me tell you, when I got my letter, my Parents thought someone had been having us on. They're dentists, you know, and very rational people. It took Professor McGonagal showing up at our house and turning into a cat and back to convince them!" Introduced Hermione, information gushing forth from her lips in a torrent of words as if they'd been stuck behind a dam that had just burst.
I held up a hand for a moment and watched as Hermione's stream of babbling conversation ground to a halt with a wince. I felt a bit bad about that since that wince was clearly the reaction of a girl whose enthusiasm for knowledge and learning had gotten her bullied for being weird in school until now. Still, I needed to be able to get a word in edgewise if I was going to have a conversation.
"Sorry, but you weren't allowing me time to reply. Firstly, my name is Blaise Zabini, it is a pleasure to meet you. My family has been magical going back to the days of the Roman Republic, so I am familiar enough with magic to have been expecting my letter. Lastly, there are those of us in Wizarding Britain who would not be so friendly if they knew your parents were muggles. There is something of an institutional bias against Muggleborns in Wizarding Britain. You may wish to keep that tidbit to yourself unless you are with friends." I offered.
"What? Why? Does it have to do with the Dark Lord? I read in A History of Magic that he was a Champion of Pureblood Supremacy back in the War. Only he's dead now, isn't he? He was defeated by Harry Potter when Harry was only a baby and that's why all of Wizarding Britain reveres Harry." Frowned Hermione.
"Was he? The only one who could confirm that story was a literal infant at the time, and as I recall, they never found even so much as a trace of a body. There may be some in Wizarding High Society who take that as a sign the Dark Lord is waiting in the shadows for his time to strike." I pointed out.
Hermione frowned at that, seemingly stunned enough at the idea that a reference book for the History of Magic Course could even conceivably be wrong. I left her to her pondering in favor of getting a cabin on the train. I made my way onto the train to find an unoccupied cabin. There were none of those, however I did find one that had only a single occupant.
A round-faced girl with striking red hair done up in a braided plait down her back looked up at me from the book she was reading.
"Hello. Would you like to take a seat?" She asked, a slight Geordie accent coming out in her speech.
"Thanks. What are you reading?" I questioned as I hefted my trunk up onto the luggage rack.
"This? It's Madame Edgecombe's Guide to Household Magic. It's got a number of minor spells that might be canny for everyday use. I'm just reading the instructions for the mending charm at the moment." Answered the Girl.
"Sounds useful. Lucia's getting a bit on in years, after all. It'd be nice to take some of the burden off the old girl every now and again. Can you teach me?" I queried.
"I've not tried it meself yet. Who's Lucia?" Questioned the Girl.
"My Mother's House Elf. Well, I suppose she's my House Elf, now." I winced, fighting back a sniffle as the thought of my Mother's death once again threatened to make me cry in front of a stranger.
"Oh. Sorry to hear that. Me Da died in the War, but I know it's not the same." Consoled the Girl, gaze softening.
"It keeps coming back to hit me when I'm not expecting it. Even after a month, I still get these flashes of thought that my Mother is dead and suddenly I get sad. Don't let my problems bother you, though. I'll work through them on my own." I sighed.
"Tell you what. I'll see if I can't get the Mending Charm down and walk you through it before we get to the castle. How's that sound?" Offered the Girl.
"So you'll teach me the charm, then?" I queried.
"Why-Aye! That's what mates are for, isn't it?" Grinned the Girl.
"Thank you. I'm Blaise, by the way. Blaise Zabini." I introduced.
"Susan Bones, pleased to meet you." Smiled the Girl.
As Susan took out her wand, a beautifully crafted thing of red cedar carved in spiraling ridges for better grip, she took out a Bone China Teacup that had a crack running down the side and spiderwebbing off into smaller cracks that threatened to collapse the entire side of the teacup. With a spiraling wand motion and an incantation of Reparo, Susan watched as the cracks began to seal up by themselves, though she needed to cast the charm two more times to fix everything. Nodding to herself, she took the teacup in both hands and snapped the handle off before casting one last Reparo and watching as the handle affixed itself back into place on the cop solidly.
"I think that'll do it. Why don't you give it a go, aye? Remember, the Emphasis is on the second syllable." Nodded Susan, cup held out to me. I took the cup, once more cracking the handle off before proceeding to copy Susan's Wand Motions and incantation.
"Reparo!" I incanted, moving my wand in the spiraling wand patterns. The Handle fixed itself back onto the side of the teacup, solidly in place once more and I grinned at that.
"Canny Job, Blaise! You got it in a single go!" Grinned Susan.
"Yeah, well, I've always had a bit of a knack for charms." I shrugged.
I was attempting to project that most illusive of Italian cultural affects, Sprezzatura. A sort of air of effortless grace and nonchalance regarding accomplishing tasks that others might see as difficult. Given that I was eleven, however, it wasn't working as intended. Susan, instead of being impressed, just cracked a grin at my antics. Maybe when I have a couple more years under my belt it would work, but not today, apparently.
Moments later, three others entered the Cabin. One was a platinum-blonde girl whose Robes were immaculately tailored and whose hair was immaculately coiffed. Another was a black-haired witch in far less expensive clothing whose hair was done up in a simple ponytail. Following them was a Brown-Haired boy in modest clothing with a potions book tucked under his arm.
"See, only two people in here. This is the best we're going to get, Daphne. The train filled up fast." Intoned the Black Haired Girl.
"Susan is acceptable. We've met before. I'm afraid I don't know the other one, though, Tracey." Frowned the Blonde, clearly Daphne.
"We could always split up and take different cabins." Suggested the Boy.
"I will not be forced to leave Tracey to her own devices. Malfoy and the two Trolls who have taken Human Form he calls retainers are in our year, if you recall." Sniffed Daphne.
"I can take care of myself, thank you." Chimed in the Black-Haired Girl, Tracey.
"Still, I'd rather not have to take Terry's suggestion." Scoffed Daphne.
"Excuse me, what is this a question about?" I asked.
"Daphne and Tracey are close. Childhood friends, you understand. The problem is that Tracey is a half-blood, and one whose muggle mother doesn't exactly have the best reputation. She knows Susan, but not you, and we're trying to figure out whether or not you'll make a bloody issue over Tracey's background or not." Explained the Boy, Terry.
"I don't exactly have room to throw stones about the reputation of mothers. I don't have a problem with Tracey being half-blood, nor do I have a problem with her being the daughter of someone of ill repute. It isn't as if anyone can choose their parents, after all." I shrugged.
"Tracey?" Questioned Terry.
"If he's fine with me, I'm fine with him." Nodded Tracey.
"Daphne?" Pressed Terry.
"I suppose that's acceptable then." Agreed Daphne.
And like that, our compartment was full. As I helped Terry, Daphne, and Tracey stow their trunks on the luggage racks, Introductions went around. It turns out these were Tracey Davis, Daphne Greengrass, and Terry Boot. Two Background Slytherins and a Background Ravenclaw if I recalled the sorting right. Daphne and Terry were Purebloods, though Terry was Irish, while Tracey was a half-blood, as established. I introduced myself and as I did, the train began to pull out of the station. Once we were seated, Daphne snapped her fingers and fixed me with a look.
"That's where I've heard your name before! You're the son of Felicia Zabini, the Contessa del Villaggio del Mistero! You're related to the King of Magical Italy!" She exclaimed.
"Barely, and only via the maternal line. Besides, I've been barred from the line of succession to my County, so if you're looking for favors on that front, I'm sad to say you'll be waiting a while. My Aunt seemed to bear my mother some kind of grudge that ensured she got me cut out of the succession." I sighed.
"Felicia Zabini? I'm not surprised people would have a grudge against her. My dad's told me a few interesting rumors about your mother." Remarked Terry.
"I know the ones you're talking about." I nodded.
"Any truth to them?" Queried Terry.
"It doesn't matter now. My mother is dead." I shrugged, focusing on the incoming sound of footsteps coming down the aisle to avoid any crying.
"Terry, behave." Hissed Tracey.
"Aye, that wasn't the most tactful thing to say." Added Susan.
Moments later, the door to our compartment opened up and Hermione was standing in the doorway. Following her was a black-haired, nervous-looking, pudgy, Boy in a cardigan sweater vest who was looking around anxiously. That had to be Neville Longbottom, which meant that they were looking for Trevor the Toad.
"Has anyone seen a Toad? Neville's lost his." Asked Hermione.
"There isn't a toad in here. Did you see any toads?" Questioned Terry.
"No. Toads are disgusting creatures. I wouldn't go near one voluntarily. I've heard they can give you warts, after all." Sniffed Daphne.
"I think that's just a myth, Daphne. I haven't seen any toads either, though, unfortunately. Susan?" Queried Tracey.
"Sorry, I've been in here since at least two hours before we pulled out of the station, reading." Refuted Susan.
"Do you have anything of your toads?" I asked.
"Why? What do you want with Trevor's cage?" Demanded Neville.
"I'm going to use magic to find him. Ordinarily, I'd ask for something in exchange, but it's the first day of our first year and I'd like to make friends." I answered.
"What sort of magic are you planning to do? It isn't like we could possibly know all that much." Frowned Hermione.
"The Zabini Family are known to practice the Mind Arts as well as other subtle magics. They've even produced several seers. I'd imagine Blaise is planning to use his family's talents." Pointed out Daphne. Neville's eyes widened as he heard that, and then he shouted for us to wait here before running off.
When he returned it was with a cage whose bars were made of enchanted bronze. The problem was that some toads could flatten their bodies out enough to be able to pass between the enchanted bars keeping them inside. Neville handed over the cage and I took a deep breath and grabbed hold of it. Immediately, I was rocked with a psychometric vision of Trevor the toad doing just that, flattening himself into a pancake of a toad. He then hopped away from the cage toward the nearby restroom. My vision cut out as plopped himself into the sink of the boy's restroom on this carriage, turning on the faucet as he passed by it, before settling in the basin. Anything more was clearly pushing the bounds of psychometry too far for me to continue watching. At least as I was now.
As I came back to myself, I shook my head, handing the cage back to Neville, who took it from me with a hopeful, yet expectant look on his face. I wasn't about to disappoint him, either.
"Check the sink in the boys' restroom. I saw him jump into there." I informed Neville quickly raced for the restroom and let out a shout of joy. Moments later he returned with a grumpy-looking toad in his arms.
"Thank you! I thought I'd lost Trevor for good! Gran would've gone spare if that'd been the case!" Thanked Neville.
"Yes, thank you. Still doesn't make up for that trick you pulled on me earlier, though. Honestly, if it wasn't true, they wouldn't print it in a book for school." Scoffed Hermione.
"Can we join you?" Questioned Neville.
"Sorry. Five people to a compartment is about all I'm prepared to put up with." Answered Daphne.
"It is a bit crowded in here already." Agreed Tracey.
"It's only going to get more cramped as we grab sweets from the trolley and pull out things to read too." Shrugged Terry.
"As you can see, we're full-up at the moment. Glad I could help, though." I confirmed.
With that, Hermione and Neville left with Trevor the Toad back to whatever compartment they could fit into. The whole time, Susan had been looking at me with an expression on her face that seemed to be more calculating than I'd taken her for. She was supposed to be in Hufflepuff, which generally meant less calculating and more going with your gut.
"Something on my face?" I queried.
"You're a real Seer?" She asked.
"That wasn't just the Sight, Susan. I'm also a Natural Leglimens. Both of those talents run in my mother's side of the family and when they combine like that, you can get a decent approximation of various mind arts even without intensive training, though I'll get better at them all with proper training than just by relying on bloodline talents alone." I explained.
"What about your Da's side of the family?" Pressed Susan.
"I don't know much about the Shafiqs. I know they have branches all over the place. I know they generally tend to be Alchemists and Potioneers, but whether that's because of some innate gift for Alchemy and Potions or whether it's a tradition based on their founder having been the Court Alchemist of the Umayyad Caliph in the seven-forties I couldn't tell you for sure." I shrugged.
"Oh." Was all Susan Said.
"What about you? You said your dad was killed in the War? What about your mom?" I Questioned.
"Me Ma died giving birth to me. Da was a member of the Bones Family. We're all Dead Canny with Combat Magic, us Boneses. It's in our blood the same way Leglimancy and the Sight are in yours. Not in the same way, mind you. Our talent lets us learn quickly by doing. Most charms we're able to pick up in one to three tries, which means we tend to have a decent repertoire of spells we can use in a scrap. Most of us tend to be Hufflepuffs though, not Gryffindors like you'd think. Something about still having to work for it, even if the work is easier, seems to make us all good Badgers." Grinned Susan.
"And your Mother?" I queried.
"Me Ma was a half-blood. Erica Smythe. Granda was a Muggle Police Chief in Durham and Grandma was a Witch from the Gamp Family. She didn't have any serious abilities outside of what she worked to learn, though. I didn't know me Ma, though. I was raised by my Aunt Amelia. She's the head of the DMLE and the head of our Family. I don't have any cousins, so me Aunt's gone and made me her heir, which means I get to be a Baroness in the future, so that's canny." Informed Susan.
I tried not to wince at Susan's situation vis-a-vis her family and inheritance being so close to mine in so many ways yet the complete opposite in others. It was a reminder that my Mother had not been loved by many of our extended family and they had taken it out on me by cutting me out of the family almost entirely.
Fortunately, that was nothing that sweets couldn't fix, and no sooner had the topic come up than the sweets trolley came by piled high with cauldron cakes, chocolate frogs, and half a dozen other assorted goodies. I swiftly found out everyone's preferences and bought them all their favorites. Like me, it turned out that Daphne was fond of Cauldron Cakes, meanwhile, Terry was a fan of Jelly Slugs. Tracey liked Pumpkin Pasties, which I was told tasted like a miniature pumpkin pie. Blaise had never tried them and after gagging on a cup of pumpkin juice not a day after arriving in this world, I'd been too scared to do so. Meanwhile, Susan was an absolute chocoholic, she had me buy one each of Chocolate Frogs, Wiz-O-Choc Bars, and Shock-O-Choc Packets. For myself, I purchased three each of Cauldron Cakes, Wiz-O-Choc Bars, and Chocolate Frogs.
As the hours wore on, we got to talking about each other. It turned out that Terry and I had a shared interest in potions and alchemy, while Tracey was a budding musician. Her mother had gotten her an acoustic guitar for her eleventh birthday, and her father had insisted that she practice with it even despite the mocking she got from her peers about playing a Muggle Instrument. I was able to bond with her over music. Daphne was, Ironically, the hardest and easiest to relate to, both at the same time. On the one hand, she was brought up in a Pureblood Family who had a noble title attached their their name, in Daphne's case, the Greengrasses were the Magical Dukes of Buckingham, a title I only knew because the Duke of Buckingham was a character in the Three Musketeers. That was all surface-level, though. The differences were there when you decided to look deeper than that.
For one thing, Daphne didn't have the same sort of stigma attached to her mother that I did. Mind you very few people would have that sort of issue, but it did contribute to the overall difference in her situation versus mine. For instance, her family actually enjoyed her company and would fight to defend her if she was attacked. Mine had cut me out of the line of succession to my mother's County before she'd even been in the ground a full twenty-four hours and promptly sent me back to Britain. I was fairly certain that none of them would piss on me if I were on fire. Even the ones that would probably wouldn't do so for fear of angering Aunt Evelina, who'd become the new Contessa.
Of course, even in areas where I had gained something from having the family I did, I differed from Daphne as well. For instance, whereas I had actually gained bloodline powers from my family, being both a Seer and a Natural Leglimens, Daphne's family had no bloodline powers. They instead had a bloodline curse. The Blood Malediction of the House of Greengrass was, apparently, a curse of frailty. It wouldn't be so bad, as the curse had been successfully suppressed for a few generations, only it had resurfaced in the person of Daphne's younger sister Astoria, who Daphne was even more protective of than she was of Tracey.
No, bonding over shared backgrounds was not the way to win over Daphne. Instead, I had to make an effort to engage her in shared interests. Fortunately, I had found out that Daphne Greengrass enjoyed card games. I just so happened to have brought along a deck of Sicilian Tarot Cards and began introducing Daphne to the game of Tarocco Siciliano. It was a game that my mother had taught me. It could be played with three or four players and we eventually managed to draw in Susan. Terry, meanwhile, went back to reading the potions book he'd had with him while Tracey pulled her guitar out of her trunk and began to strum idly.
We played a few rounds to test the waters and then got into the game for real. I didn't put any stakes up to gamble on the game because, as I'd said earlier, I wanted to make friends today, not anger people. Besides, Susan and Daphne were beginners, it wouldn't be fair to gamble with them as it was. Predictably, I wound up winning after a game that was around ninety minutes or so long. Daphne was proving to be a surprisingly quick study as was Susan, though they were still green after only one game.
Unfortunately, we didn't have time for another game before we had to change into our Hogwarts Robes and get ready to get off the train. All told I'd had a decent time on the Hogwarts Express and felt like I'd made a few friends. Not only that, I'd learned a new spell, Reparo, and avoided making any enemies. Things were apparently, finally, looking up.
That sentiment would not wind up lasting the night as I would later find out. . .
XXXX
AN: All right, so here we see multiple meetings with multiple canon characters, some of which are going to become love interests or allies going forward. Blaise has also managed to pick up the Reparo spell, which is useful in a lot of everyday life, even if not so much in the sort of adventurous circumstances that crop up at Hogwarts all the time.
You may think I've flanderized Hermione and Ron a bit in this chapter. That I have exacerbated a few of their unflattering qualities. This isn't the case. First Year Ron was very much that biased against an entire house of people just because of a stereotype. Granted, Rowling does sort of work in stereotypes through the whole series, but again, I'm doing my own worldbuilding here. Plus, given the stories going around about Blaise's mom and how the Weasleys as a whole can get about family, his reacting like he did was absolutely in character. As for Hermione, this is the Hermione who still thinks getting expelled is worse than getting killed. Of course, she's going to think the schoolbooks wouldn't lie to her and get huffy when someone suggests otherwise.
At any rate, the next chapter will be the sorting.
Stay tuned. . .
