𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 . poly!remus lupin , sirius black [ REWRITING ]

PROLOGUE

˗ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ˗
❝ dominique nott, right? ❞

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝟗¾ 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟏

THE WEATHER WAS CHILLY THAT MORNING OF SEPTEMBER 1ST 1971, the skin-biting autumn air trying desperately to claw through the extra layers of warmth and protection the people of London wore as they bustled through King's Cross Station. But the cold wasn't anything unusual, and so there wasn't many complaints to be heard. Just loud, casual chatter as families rushed around, or as adults going to work jumped onto a train last minute or cursed as they reached the platform too late. The area was so busy that nobody seemed to take notice of the particular individuals all pushing along their trolleys consisting of trunks and even animals, the owls in cages not seeming to catch much attention. That was for the better, as interaction between the muggles and the wizarding world was better kept minimal. The separate individuals minded their own business, each going to completely different destinations.

Dominique Nott was among this crowd with a trolley that was almost as big as she was, making it somewhat difficult for her to push it along. But she managed, looking composed as she was doing so despite the nerves that were eating away at her. Her destination was Hogwarts, where she would be starting her first year at the school of witchcraft and wizardry, hence why she was so anxious. Originally, her parents had wanted to her to go to Beauxbatons, as it suited her father's plan to move back to France. But Hogwarts had been the final decision, and their plan to move to Adolphe and Dominique's home country of France had been scrapped.

The girl came from a wealthy, pure-blood family, with a father who had put a lot of pressure on her to not embarrass them. In other words, stick to everything he had drilled into her head from birth. As far as she was aware, she was superior. Dominique was a pure-blood, and anybody less than that was beneath her. So, most of her nerves didn't come from it being her first year, it came from not wanting to become a disappointment and to follow in their footsteps. It was like training all your life to run a race, and only wanting to come first. Second place wasn't an option.

Dominique held her head high, with an exceptional posture for a girl of eleven. Her eyes were cold, making her dark eyes look all the more intimidating, and her face was fixed into a neutral expression. Her father walked on Dominque's right, his eyes just as cold as hers as his hand rested on her shoulder, guiding them towards platform nine and three-quarters. Julius and Andrea were the only ones that didn't have a stone-cold exterior, exuding a warmth that was uncommon among the Nott's, and certainly more approachable than the rest of them.

Dominique felt a sense of giddiness within her as she approached the brick wall, but it wasn't visible on the outside. The only thing that hinted her true mood was the slight twitch of her mouth, which was hardly noticeable.

   "This is your special day, Dominique," Her mother spoke gently. Andrea Nott, Dominique's stepmother and Julius' mother, had always been the softer of Dominique's parents, showing a bit more compassion and warmth towards her daughter than Adolphe did. After all, she wasn't raised as strictly as most other pure-bloods. "Are you excited?"