You sighed as you watched a cloud float through the sky. The grass was soft under your fingertips. You liked that— Mr. Stapius always kept the grass soft and green, even in winter. He did it because he knew you liked it that way. Ever since you had come to the orphanage for wayward witches and wizards, he had started keeping the grass because you were the only child constantly in the back garden. A small smile graced your face as a piece of cake floated to you— the fork and a glass of pumpkin juice floated towards you.
"Happy Birthday, (Y/N)!" Poppy called out from the doorway. "I'm sorry I can't stay."
You shook your head. "Don't worry, it's alright. You better hurry before you miss the train!"
Poppy gave you a large smile before turning back inside, her Slytherin robe flopping behind her. You squinted when the flash of her prefect badge momentarily blinded you. You took a bite of the cake, smiling wide at the taste. Poppy had a way around the kitchen. She really did mean to stay; but, after making prefect, she was required to show up to the Hogwarts Express earlier than other students.
You sighed with each bite of cake after the initial one. It was another year that all the children in the orphanage went to Hogwarts or maybe even another school far away. You were left alone for the third year in a row. Being the only squib at Mr. Stapius' House meant that every school year you learned in books at home and not at school. Ever the gentleman, Mr. Stapius bought all the wizarding books he could find every time he went to Diagon Alley. He would always tell you how it wasn't fair to you and that squibs should be allowed to attend school even without much magic. You appreciated the gesture.
With the cake finished, you set the plate on the grass. In one large gulp, you swallowed all the pumpkin juice and then went back to laying down in the grass. A meow garnered your attention. You sat back up, tucking your legs underneath you. A tabby cat meowed once again and you chuckled.
"Yes, I am (Y/N) Black. Although I'm not sure why a cat needs to know that."
The cat's eyes widened and it picked up a letter that had been hidden in the dirt and dropped it in your lap. You turned the letter over to see your name and Mr. Stapius' address sprawled across the front. The paper was easily torn through as you pulled out the letter. Your eyes scanned over the words not believing what you were seeing.
"This is impossible... I'm going... I'm going—"
"To Hogwarts, yes child."
You looked up abruptly from the letter. Instead of the tabby cat, you were now greeted by an old woman with beautiful green robes and a very large pointed hat. She pulled out her wand, waving it to make your dishes disappear. As she looked down at you through her glasses, she stuck out a hand.
"Professor Minerva McGonagall. Your transfiguration teacher of transfiguration and fairly surprised that you seem to speak cat."
You took her hand to pull yourself up. "I've had plenty of time to learn how to speak to animals... It's kind of the only magic I can really do."
"Well, Hagrid will be excited to have a student such as you. We must be quick. You still need your supplies and the other students are already on their way to school... Have you ever apparated before?"
"Twice."
You barely finished the word before you were immediately pulled into thin air. Diagon Alley was a bustling place. Professor McGonagall barely gave you enough time to look around as she wandered from store to store. The old woman bought you whatever she deemed necessary, not minding your protests about how much money it was costing.
"Cat, owl, or toad?" She asked.
You looked around the pet store. A toad was completely out of the question but there was a bit of a debate between a cat or an owl. An owl would be convenient for letter sending but you could cuddle with a cat. In the end, the petting factor won out and a carrier holding a cute black cat was set on top of your other school supplies.
"Professor," you asked as you set the cat's carrier down. "Is there a reason I am suddenly allowed to go to Hogwarts?"
McGonagall's lips flat-lined. Her eyes flitted back and forth as she tried to scramble for an answer while you walked. She didn't have the opportunity to give you one. Your eyes casted up in time to see a poster plastered onto an alleyway that seemed to lead to a part of town that you wouldn't want to be in. The screaming man on the poster wasn't hard to identify. There stood your relative, Sirius Black. Out of Azkaban.
"Oh," you said simply.
The witch behind you sighed. "It is for your protection. Hogwarts has made an exception, he will be coming back fo—"
"He never tried to kill me," you cut her off.
"(Y/N)..."
"He never tried to kill me. He never tried to kill Harry Potter or anyone."
The determination in your voice was too apparent for McGonagall to try and tell you otherwise— now was not the time to break your heart. Professor McGonagall guided you into Ollivander's shop as she said something about getting a trunk for all your stuff. You looked back at her retreating figure before turning to look at the old man in front of you. It was like a dream. You had always wanted to go to Ollivander's but of course were never allowed. But here you were. Ollivander beckoned you to step closer. He examined you three times before shuffling off to the back and pulling out some wands. Gently, he set the first wand in your hand. Not a second later, it bounced away as if repulsed by the very thought of you.
"Not to worry, my dear. Witches and wizards rarely get it right on their first try," he said as he saw your frown.
His fingers skipped over the second and third wand and went right to the fourth, placing it in your hand. It didn't even try to budge and you felt the corners of your mouth lift up. The wand felt right in your grip. Ollivander waited expectantly before suddenly remembering who you were— McGonagall had been so kind to inform him of your predicament before you even set foot in Diagon Alley.
"Well, we can't test it but the wand always chooses the wizard. Hornbeam, unicorn hair, 10 and ¾ inches, moderately flexible," Ollivander recited the stats as he gave you a box and a bag for your wand.
"Thank you."
"I have to say my own wand is Hornbeam. Wands like this are unique to the owner, no one will ever be able to figure out its magic once it becomes attuned to you... a shame to be paired with unicorn hair, that core doesn't provide with very strong magic."
"Well, neither do I," you joked.
Ollivander smiled. "In that case Ms. Black, it is perhaps the perfect wand for you."
You gave him one last wave before meeting Professor McGonagall outside. With a nod that you were ready, the two of you apparated to Hogwarts. Just because you had seen it in books didn't make it any more amazing in person. You couldn't close your mouth if you tried. Sticking close to Professor McGonagall, you listened to her give the opening speech to the first years. Poppy had recited it the first year she came back from Hogwarts on Christmas vacation— recited it so much that you knew it by heart.
A panic went through you for a brief moment when you realized it was time to go inside. You stood next to the professor the entire time, looking at the floor instead of the people around who were already whispering as they wondered who you were. You bounced on the balls of your feet in front of all the first years as you waited for the Sorting Hat to finish its stupid song. You willed it to hurry up. The quicker it went, the quicker you could get sorted and sit down.
"(Y/N) Black." McGonagall's voice rang out in the hall.
The entire place suddenly became quiet. Your shoes echoed loudly as you stepped up the small steps and sat down on the school. You weren't even listening to the hat as it pondered outloud, picking at your fingers instead. You briefly looked up to find Poppy at the Slytherin table whose shocked expression turned into one of genuine happiness as she gave you a small wave.
The hat became heavy and was starting to hurt a bit as it sat on your freshly done braids. Without much thought, you lifted it up for a brief second and adjusted some of the braids before setting it back on your head. The hat chuckled with much gusto causing you to cringe.
"Sorry," you whispered.
"Nothing to apologize for," the hat replied. "Mmm... a shame you don't have an affinity to magic, I see a great witch that you could be. Still, hard-working, loyal perhaps to a fault. Resilient. And still kind, better be... Hufflepuff!"
You sighed internally. Poppy went on and on about hufflepuffs and now that was the house that you just got. A squib, a Hufflepuff. Could it get any worse for you? That question was answered as all the other tables except for Hufflepuff began laughing quietly.
"Do you mind putting me down, my dear?"
You looked up to see that hat was still on your head. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you quickly moved back up the steps to place the hat on the chair. Without bringing any more attention to yourself, you sat down at the table. A boy, older than you, plopped down in the empty space next to you. You looked at the shiny prefect badge on his cloak.
"Cedric Diggory, Sixth Year Head Boy for Hufflepuff." He stuck out a hand.
"(Y/N) Black."
"I know," he said with a smile.
You let go of his hand as you groaned and smacked your head onto the table with a dull clunk, ignoring the pain. First days were not your strong suit. Not your first day at the orphanage, your first day in daycare, even your first day on earth— your mother didn't make it through childbirth, although the entire family blamed that on being stuck in America at a muggle hospital right as her water broke. You could hear a little laugh come from the boy next to you. Cedric placed his head on the table and you turned your face to look at him with a slight frown, unsure if he was mocking you.
"It's my job, along with other prefects, to make sure all the Puffs are comfortable during their time here at Hogwarts. Just remember that," he said before suddenly shooting up to applaud for a first year that made Hufflepuff.
You slowly lifted your head to add your applause to the crowd. Soon all the kids were sorted and the feast began. Your eyes widened at all the food on the table. As the food began to hit plates, Dumbledore stood up. He garnered everyone's attention— although no one stopped eating as he spoke.
"First, I'm pleased to welcome Professor RJ Lupin to our school as our new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Your gaze went to the man who raised his hand. That was a name you had heard once or twice, you weren't very sure. He seemed to look straight at you, causing you to turn back to your food. You didn't look up again as the headmaster began to talk about the dementors and the reason while they were at Hogwarts in the first place. Everyone's eyes were on you. You were sure of it. All of a sudden, the food seemed dull. You pushed it away and just waited for the feast to end.
"Are you not hungry?" Cedric asked. You had forgotten that he was still next to you.
"Never could eat very much," you lied.
"Well, spend a few months at Hogwarts and that'll change."
He went back to eating and you just swirled around the drink in your cup. When the feast was finally over, you followed everyone to the common room. Hufflepuffs were right next to the kitchen which, the Head Girl in sixth year informed you, was perfect because of the access to midnight snacks.
"If you're nice, the house elves won't snitch if they see you in the kitchen, although we technically aren't supposed to tell you that," she said. "Password is that there is no password. Knock on the third barrel from the left."
She did just that and the barrels rolled slightly away from each other to expose an open corridor. Everyone piled inside. You looked around the common room and decided that you rather liked Hufflepuff and the earthy, home vibe it seemed to give off. As the other kids made their way upstairs, you stayed in the common room for a minute before going to do the same.
"Black," a girl's voice called you.
You stopped to see all of the prefects, from fifth through seventh year, standing together and looking at you. You moved back to them, looking around and trying to figure out how you already messed up. The Head Girl from seventh year, Bettie Striker, patted your shoulder.
"What life have you lived, kid? Loosen up, you're not in trouble."
"Your rooming situation is a little different," The prefect boy in fifth year said. "With all of your... circumstances... Hogwarts staff seems to agree that it's best if you aren't rooming with the other kids, you know, bullying and all that."
You sighed. "Because I'm a Black or a squib?"
"Uh, both. We aren't saying it'll happen but—"
"Just being safe."
"Exactly. You'll be in the Prefects' Hall with all of us, Bettie agreed to room with Jeannie."
"Oh no, I don't want anyone to give up a room for me."
Bettie shook her head. "Listen, kid, I'm perfectly happy to do so if it makes your life a bit easier here."
Jeannie agreed with her. You followed the rest of them into the separate Prefects' Hall and to your room. It wasn't large but it was better than anything you ever had— that wasn't entirely true. You remembered the Black Manor gave you the largest room in the house before you were taken to Mr. Stapius at age six when you hadn't shown an inkling of magic and were tested for being a squib. But since being at Mr. Stapius' house, you were always sharing a room. Your cat, who you had named Padfoot, meowed when you entered. Ignoring him, you flopped onto the bed. Padfoot walked over your stomach until his nose was right under your chin.
"What am I doing here, Padfoot? Nothing about me belongs in Hogwarts," you sighed before letting sleep take over.