The Raven and the Snake

Before the First Book

Pain... utter, screaming, agony. Was this it? Was this how she was going to die? Why was it taking so long?

All the nerves in her body were on fire and she was paralyzed, completely unable to escape the flames that were hurting her, but feeling it still. The building that had collapsed on her made it impossible even to lift a hand to her face that was now covered in blood and soot and still burning.

The concrete trapping her wasn't cool to the touch as it had been only hours ago when she'd been on the second floor, on her hands and knees, scrubbing. She'd been cleaning the old theater building for hours with a dozen other people... where were they? Had they gotten out or had they also been trapped?

Every breath was agony as a weight pressed down on her ribs, cracking them against her lungs and even the small bit of air she managed to swallow was tainted with smoke that burned her throat. The feel of her own blood bubbling around in her mouth wasn't offering any reprieve from the sandpaper burn the flames made.

Why couldn't she just choke to death on her own blood and be done with it? How could death be so drawn out? Life wasn't worth living if it was this. Surely, nothing could save her now. Even if she was pulled free of the rubble and taken to a hospital, the pain would never subside now. She was too badly burned. Too badly broken.

The rubble pinning her had to be the only thing now holding her insides together. There was no way she could possibly be moved without falling apart, was there? And yet, cruelly, her phone was in tact.

Nestled safely in her pocket in its metal case she'd specifically ordered because of her tendency to drop it, the phone was still going. Unreachable, but she could hear it. The audiobook being played was what made her understand time and even under the raging inferno around her, the earbud in her left ear hadn't been dislodged and it continued merrily playing the last chapter of the book.

Her eyelids could not block out the blaze of the flames and even closed, her eyeballs burned. No tears could staunch the burn. Her eyelashes had burned away along with all her hair. She knew her face must be a cracked mess. How long before it was dust? Hadn't all the moisture keeping her alive disappeared yet?

Piano music sounded in her ear. How could it still play? The plastic casing had to be melted, grafted to her ear by now. A cheery woman announced the end of the audiobook, stating that it had been read by Jim Dale and that it was a production of Pottermore. It ended with a small advertisement.

A shifting above her made her want to look up, but her eyes were now sealed shut or no longer even existed inside her head. There was a crash and what little burning air was left whooshed from her lungs as her ribs splinted down into her organs. A shudder went through her, if she'd been free enough to really move, she would've curled inward on herself.

The pain left her then. She could no longer feel the flames licking along her face or the hot concrete pressing on her. She didn't have a body any longer. There was nothing holding her together. She was free.

Ariadne jolted up out of bed. Her breath came in swift pants. Her hair and nightdress clung to her sweaty body. She found herself standing before she realized she was even awake. Her knees buckled the moment she found her feet. Sprawling, she gasped.

Awake. She was awake now. It had just been a dream.

She had a body. Her face was pressed against the cool wooden floor of her room, her knees cushioned from the landing by the fluffy floor runner her mother had placed there so she could comfortably climb in and out of bed.

Mother. Ariadne's hand moved to her neck and followed the long gold chain to the heavy locket. She pulled the locket into her view and popped open the catch. Twin pictures sat in front of her face now. One the left was her father, a handsome young man with a somewhat gaunt face. He was still boyish, his features never having had a chance to mature before his untimely death at 15. He'd had well groomed, wavy, black hair that he kept tidy. His eyes were brown and serious, but there was softness in the way he held his mouth as he looked at her through the photo.

Her mother's photo on the right was older. Though she had been a young mother, she had managed to grow to adulthood. She was beautiful with long blond hair that fell past her waist and kind, light eyes. She had a dazzling smile on her face as though she was looking at her favorite person in the world.

Ariadne stared at them for a few long minutes, her cheek still pressed to the floor. She'd never had a chance to meet her father, but her mother had often spoken of him fondly and proclaimed he had died in the bravest possible manner for a 15 year old. Her mother had died just last year when Ariadne was 10. She'd had a heart condition all her life and it had finally taken her after a small stint in the hospital. Ariadne had sat next to her mother's sickbed, proudly reading out the one and only spell book she'd been able to procure when her mother breathed her last.

Her mother hadn't managed to live to her 11th birthday when the letter came proclaiming her acceptance into the magic school her mother had been convinced she would be admitted into. Now she clambered to her feet and moved to the nightstand, letting the locket swing free. She picked up the letter that was on a thick piece of parchment with gorgeous purple calligraphy, headed with a coat of arms that featured a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake with the letter H. Her mother would've been so proud. Perhaps her father too, as her mother often said he would.

The acceptance letter had come without prompting a couple of days ago, announcing that not only had she been accepted into this most exclusive of schools, but also that a representative would be arriving to discuss the finer details. Ariadne glanced at the clock, the letter had said the representative would come today, but the hours had been about as specific at the cable company's. Still, she really should get ready to receive a guest.

Ariadne went about the tiny room of the London flat, pulling on a t shirt and jeans. She made her way to the kitchen with her brush still in her hair to see her grandparents looking a little worse for wear. The letter, that her mother would have been so delighted to see, had wrought her grandparents with anxiety. Unlike her, they were what her mother had called "muggles", not having a drop of magic within them.

Indeed, her grandparents were far from "magical". They were still fairly young, only in their 50s, and had never dared to dream of magic until the birth of Ariadne. Her grandparents were a gay couple that had adopted her mother when she'd been about Ariadne's age now. She had come to them with strange tales and little understanding of the world as they knew it. She'd been a problem child, but they had kept her because as a gay couple in the UK, they weren't legally allowed to formally adopt a child and had begged one of their own parents to be the one to take the child in. It wouldn't have been right to give her up after pushing so hard to adopt a child of unknown origins.

When Ariadne's mother had announced to them that she was having a baby at the age of 14, they said they would be happy to raise the child her in her stead so she could continue school. Their chance at having a baby of their own. However, the baby soon started showing characteristics they'd previously thought was ridiculous, impossible. Ariadne's mother had sat down with them and explained in detail of her origins, stories they'd thought were a child's fantasies now proven true by the extraordinary toddler.

Unlike her mother, who was delighted at her child's abilities, her grandparents... they didn't know what to make of it. The stories of her mother's background were horrific in their opinion, filled with monsters and evil. The idea of Ariadne being a part of that world filled them with dread.

Ariadne smiled at them, "Good morning."

"Morning," Grandpa Chester said over his paper, looking as though "good" was far from the descriptor he would like to use.

"Good morning, Aria," Grandpa Lawrence said, pacing around the small kitchen, looking for something that needed cleaning. "Want some breakfast?"

Ariadne sat down next to Chester at the table. "Sure, eggs and toast?"

Grandpa Lawrence nodded and pulled the eggs from the fridge, looking grateful for something to do. He handled his anxiety by keeping busy and because of that, their flat was completely spotless. Not one speck of dirt or cobweb could be found anywhere and the smell of bleach hung in the air. He'd probably been up for hours and hours already, cleaning the already immaculate space.

After breakfast, Grandpa Chester would normally go to work, but had called in sick so he could be there when the representative arrived. He sat stiffly in the living room, watching television with the volume low so as not to miss a knock at the door. Grandpa Lawrence swept around, fluffing pillows and straightening already straight pictures.

It was 11 when the knock finally came, preceded oddly, by a loud crack in the hall. Grandpa Lawrence lunged at the door while Grandpa Chester rose from his seat, looking tense. Ariadne rolled her eyes at the pair of them. Wasn't she supposed to be more nervous than them?

A tall, severe looking woman stood at the door wearing a ruffled black shirt and a tartan pencil skirt. She was thin, with a beaky nose, small round glasses, and her grey hair was pulled into a tight bun. She held out a hand to Grandpa Lawrence.

"Good morning," she said in a clear voice.

A name popped into Ariadne's head before the woman spoke it and she knew who this woman was.

"My name is McGonagall. Minerva McGonagall. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Grandpa Lawrence shook her hand tentatively and welcomed her in. Grandpa Chester moved forward to greet the woman in as well, shaking her hand when offered.

Ms. McGonagall's eyes roved over the room, pausing when she spotted Ariadne standing near the sofa awkwardly. Ariadne moved towards her, reaching for her hand and looking into the pale blue eyes that examined her face.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. McGonagall," Ariadne said politely, giving the hand a firm shake. "My name is Ariadne."

"P-please have a seat." Grandpa Lawrence stammered excitedly, rushing to the counter and bringing over some finger sandwiches to offer Ms. McGonagall. "Can I make you some tea?"

Ms. McGonagall sat down regally in the armchair turned toward the sofa. "Tea would be lovely."

Ariadne and Grandpa Chester sat back down on the sofa, their eyes on the woman. Ariadne's heart was pounding in her ears. She shoved her hands under her legs to keep them from trembling.

"As I'm sure you already know, I am the representative for the boarding school Hogwarts."

Ariadne and Chester nodded.

"As the letter stated, Ariadne is a very gifted child that has been accepted to attend our school."

Grandpa Chester looked like he was having a hard time unclenching his jaw to speak. "And this school... is for witches and wizards?"

Ms. McGonagall smiled a little. "Yes, it is a school for children with magical abilities."

"So you're a witch," Said Chester quickly.

"I am," Ms. McGonagall agreed.

Grandpa Lawrence came back from the kitchen with a tray in his shaking hands. "Can uh... can you... prove it?"

Ms. McGonagall looked at his shaking hands and very slowly withdrew a stick from her sleeve. She gave the smallest of waves and the tray lifted itself away from Lawrence's hands, floated across the room, and placed itself neatly on the coffee table where the teapot then went to pour Ms. McGonagall tea into a cup and drift toward her.

Ariadne was shaking all over, her excitement showing on every inch of her face. Grandpa Lawrence gave a tiny squeak, staring from his hands to tray that was now on the coffee table. Grandpa Chester had all but turned to stone.

"That's incredible," Ariadne breathed. "And I'll be able to learn how to do that?"

Ms. McGonagall smiled warmly, taking a small sip of tea. "That and much more."

Grandpa Lawrence moved to sit next to Ariadne, putting a hand on her shoulder. "What... what if we don't want her to go?"

Ariadne pursed her lips. Of course, they already knew why she had to go. Her mother had explained to them the need for wizard children to learn to hone their abilities. They knew she had to go, whether they liked it or not.

Ms. McGonagall allowed her teacup and saucer to float next to her as though they sat on an invisible table. "That would be unwise, I'm afraid. Children with magical abilities such as hers, need to learn control. If she were allowed to run amok, the results could be very dangerous for her as well as others."

"But she already has control," Grandpa Chester said through his teeth.

Ms. McGonagall's eyes went to Ariadne, appraising her. "Does she?"

Ariadne blushed a little. She did have fairly decent control for a child of her age. She spent many hours meditating with Grandpa Chester to learn how to reign in her emotions. She learned to pour her energy into art projects that now littered her room, the only slightly cluttered room of the flat. She liked to keep her hands busy and her paper folding and embroidery could be considered magical. The paper animals liked to roam around her desk without help and the embroidery would change and sparkle in ways that always made Grandpa Lawrence gasp and hide them away.

However, the control wasn't perfect. Hardly a month ago, Ariadne had caused a stir at the local playground by causing the merry go round to spin so fast that several children projectile vomited without ever touching it herself. They'd been calling her a freaky show-off for playing on the jungle gym like an acrobat.

She'd never been well liked by other children. She was pretty in a conventional sense with smooth, pale skin, long, wavy, black hair, and catlike pale green eyes, but looks weren't enough to make her acceptable. She was mature for her age which set her apart from her peers. Older children and adults didn't like her much either, however. She always had an answer, sometimes even before a question was asked. She needed only eye contact to see what others might be thinking. Action came easily as well. As a baby, she'd simply decide to walk and did it and her first words though a little late, made a complete sentence.

Ariadne wet her lips nervously. "My mother was a squib. She knew about magic and she wanted me to go to Hogwarts. My father went there. I want to go."

Ms. McGonagall frowned slightly. "Who is your father, dear?"

"His name was Regulus. Regulus Black, ma'am."

  Professor McGonagall explained that she was a teacher at Hogwarts and that she was head of Gryffindor House. Once Ariadne got there, she would be sorted into one of the four houses. Her father had been part of Slytherin, but her uncle had been a Gryffindor like McGonagall. Professor McGonagall refused to go into further detail, stating she hadn't known either well, but Ariadne could see something behind the professor's eyes.

Professor McGonagall offered to escort them to a wizarding shopping district so she could get the school supplies she would need, referring to the list that came with her acceptance letter. After reading through it, Ariadne looked up.

"Will the school have any of these books available or do I need to purchase all of these?" Ariadne's brow was furrowed. It was a long list that included new clothing, potion materials, and a wand. She couldn't begin to guess how much any of that cost, but they weren't exactly a rich family. Regulus hadn't known that his girlfriend, whom he hid from his parents, was pregnant and hadn't provided Ariadne with any sort of inheritance. Her mother had been a seamstress and her Grandpa Chester worked as a telemarketer, neither of which paid a great deal.

"You won't be able to look them over before you enter the school and not all of them may be readily available. You will be able to purchase many, if not all of them secondhand, and if you can't afford potion ingredients, the school will be able to provide them." Professor McGonagall gave her a reassuring smile. "Since you live with muggles and are unfamiliar with the workings of the wizarding world, the school is also willing to offer you a grant to make sure you get what you need."

The small family were led to a seemingly normal street in London. Ariadne spotted where they were going from a block away, but her grandparents didn't seem to notice the little in and pub until they were opening the front door. Grandpa Chester and Grandpa Lawrence turned their noses up at the gritty little pub called The Leaky Cauldron, unimpressed with the cleanliness and crowd. The barman seemed to be ancient, his knobby old hands failed to clean a glass to Grandpa Lawrence level standards and though he greeted them politely, neither of her grandparents seemed willing to say so much as a "hello" back.

Ariadne's eyes slid over every little detail, desperate to remember everything. She followed Professor McGonagall excitedly into the back of the pub and up to a blank brick wall. She watched carefully at spot on the wall she tapped with her wand and was amazed as the bricks seemed to simply hop out of the way to reveal a bustling alleyway filled with witches and wizards.

"We shall start with Gringott's, there you can learn how to exchange muggle money for wizarding galleons."

Ariadne was fascinated by the goblins of Gringott's. They sneered at the muggles with an obvious sense of superiority as they explained the currency exchange. One golden galleon was about the equivalent of £5. Ariadne examined one of the golden galleons with great interest, but glancing at the pale faces of her grandparents, she realized they'd hardly taken in a word.

As they entered more shops, Professor McGonagall happily explaining all the best stores to get supplies, the muggles' apprehension became greater and greater. Ariadne couldn't take in enough of the fantastical environment. Nearly everyone besides her little family wore long robes and cloaks, their belts heavy with money bags. Wizard children ran around excitedly from an ice cream parlour called Florean Fortescue's and what appeared to be a sporting goods shop called Quality Quidditch Supplies.

As she was being measured by Madam Malkin in a robe shop, she asked if she was allowed to make her own clothing. Madam Malkin smiled amusedly. "Do you like sewing, dear?"

Ariadne gave her a bright smile. "Yes, my mother taught me how to sew."

A nearby girl who was trying on a new set of robes gave an obvious scoff. Ariadne turned to look at the girl. This girl had short, frizzy, blond hair and a very pronounced upturned nose that brought up images of Miss Piggy. Ariadne had a hard time repressing a sneer of her own.

"I like working with my hands," Ariadne said slowly. "It makes it easier for me to control my temper."

The girl snorted, clearly unimpressed. Ariadne didn't feel the need to prove herself. The girl was no older than her and was quite clearly spoiled. She turned away so as not to further acknowledge the rudeness.

Ariadne soon found that Slug and Jigger's Apothecary was the most interesting store in Diagon Alley. It stunk of compost, but it wasn't at all unpleasant. The shelves were filled with jars containing all sorts of plants and animal parts she had never heard of. Some things seemed to coo or reach out toward her as she passed. A little animal scurried across their path looking something like a hedgehog. The whole place made Grandpa Lawrence turn a little green.

The next best store was Flourish and Blotts, a book store. Every single surface of the shop was covered in books of all colors and sizes. Ariadne looked over at Grandpa Chester, he was the biggest reader of the family and normally would be delighted to find himself in such a treasure trove. His mood, however, didn't seem at all improved. He eyed a couple of floating books whose covers showed moving pictures of wizards and witches flying on broomsticks with dislike.

How could they not be amazed and impressed? Every detail of today would be a precious treasure in Ariadne's eyes. Her grandfathers' clear unhappiness was like a painful rock in her shoe, dampening the mood and making her uncomfortable.

  "And finally, a wand." Professor McGonagall brought them to a store called Ollivander's. Compared to the other bustling shops with product spilling off every shelf, Ollivander's was quiet and meticulously kept.

Small, oblong boxes were neatly stacked on every shelf with only a handful of things being on display. Ollivander himself was a tidy man except for his white hair that seemed determined to be in all directions at once. He looked down at Ariadne with watery eyes and smiled.

"Your first wand, is it?" He said in a slightly croaking voice.

"Yes sir," Ariadne nodded. Something about this man made her gaze sharpen. She couldn't tell exactly what he was thinking and even the very mild displays couldn't distract her from his steady gaze.

Her grandparents cringed near the door, seeming more bothered by this store than any other while Professor McGonagall was showing a polite interest in some wand accessories that seemed to be purely decorative. Ariadne didn't shift her gaze from Ollivander who seemed to keep one eye on her as he shuffled to a shelf, picking up a box.

"Rosewood and unicorn hair," He murmured as he offered her the box. "Good for charm work."

Ariadne had no idea what a wand supposed to feel like. She lifted it from the box tentatively, weighing it in her hand. It felt like... a wooden stick.

Olivander smiled. "Not quite right."

He offered her another wand. "Willow and dragon heartstring, swishy. Good for transfiguration."

She touched this one for a moment. Nothing special. He took it back.

Another. "Hawthorn and unicorn hair."

Another. "Hazel and phoenix feather."

Another.

Another.

Another.

Ollivander's eyes sparkled with each wand that was passed back, his smile growing.

"Very tricky customer," he practically sang in his croaky voice. "Here, holly and phoenix feather."

Ariadne picked up the wand. This one felt different. It was a little warm in her hand and gave her a strange tingling sensation. Something inside of her felt like it was struggling against a pull. Her magic that had been present since her birth, sometimes spilling over like her temper; felt as if it was about to be drained. Wasn't a wand supposed to hone and enhance magic, why was it pulling hers away?

She dropped the wand as if it had bitten her. "I don't like that wand."

Ollivander's eyes bored into hers, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Do you like working with your hands, child?"

Ariadne nodded, unable to look away.

He swept over to a cupboard and pulled out a new box. He offered her the wand slowly. "Ebony and phoenix feather, 7in, good for enchantment work."

Ariadne reached for this one slowly, unsure. She hadn't liked that other wand at all. It had felt as though an organ she'd always had was suddenly being yanked out and replaced.

The new wand presented to her was small and dark with an elegantly decorated handle. It felt comfortable in her hand in way the others hadn't as though it was resonating with her magic. It was like shaking the hand of someone you knew you were going to get along with. She smiled tentatively up at Ollivander who seemed to positively glow at having found the correct wand for her.

Ariadne would've liked to spend the entire day, perhaps the rest of her life in this alleyway. Though she'd always been odd herself, she'd never really truly dared to believe in her mother's tales until the letter came. Now she was surrounded by people that were all like her and she would be doing what her mother had always wanted her to do.

The only downside were her grandparents. Grandpa Chester and Grandpa Lawrence couldn't rush her out into the muggle streets soon enough. Grandpa Chester looked positively ill carrying her pewter cauldron out in the open while Grandpa Lawrence was nervously holding their other shopping as far from himself as he could without looking strange.

Professor McGonagall politely pretended to not see their discomfort as she bid them good day. Ariadne shook her hand, promising to see her again soon when the first semester began.

At home, all of the supplies were pushed into Ariadne's room at once, as though her grandparents couldn't bear to see those things in their own living space. Grandpa Lawrence immediately made his way into the kitchen to prepare a meal without saying a word to Ariadne. Grandpa Chester watched him for a few long minutes before picking up a decidedly muggle novel and tried to read.

Guilt swept through Ariadne. They really didn't want this life for her and she knew it, but she couldn't change who or what she was just to please the two of them. She closed the door of her room behind her and dived into her spellbooks. She couldn't read them fast enough. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by a Newt Scamander was filled with fascinating illustrations that moved around so as to let her exam what the beasts looked like from every angle. Just how many of these animals would she be allowed to see?

She was buried in her potions book, learning what animals from Fantastic Beasts were useful for potions when she was called to dinner. She tried to bring the book with her, but seeing the looks on her grandparents' faces made her put it back. Even without the book, the meal was awkward and quiet.

 The atmosphere in their little flat didn't improve throughout the end of the summer. Ariadne spent hours holed up in her room, reading her books and practicing minor spells on her little origami animals that cantered around her desk. Almost every night, Grandpa Chester had to tell her to go to sleep so she wouldn't stay awake into the night with her books.

Ariadne found that it was harder and harder to sleep as the date for her departure crept closer. Not only was her excitement building, but she was experiencing nightmares on a regular basis now.

The pyrotechnics from the play about the witch trials had suffered an unexpected failure, she couldn't hear the exact moment the chaos began as the audiobook was at top volume in her ears, playing what was, in her opinion, the saddest part of the book. The boy in the book, Harry Potter, had just looked into the pensive to view the last thoughts of a man he'd hated only to find the man, though sour, had been a brave soldier. He had loved one woman his entire life, well after she'd stopped being his friend, gotten married, and died. He loved her so dearly that even his dislike of her child with another man didn't stop him from protecting said child. He even felt heartbreak when he realized it was the child's destiny to die.

Harry had been walking to accept his fate when she realized there was big problem and the building around her exploded. Before she could properly get her bearings and run for it, the ceiling had already collapsed where she was standing. Pain.

Pain exploded it every nerve of her body. Why didn't she go into shock? Harry Potter was dying at the hands of the villain...

She could feel her ribs crunching and her breathing came in sharp gasps, a little wet from the blood pooling in her throat. Voldemort, the great evil, was gloating over his great victory over a barely legal child....

Flames heated the concrete, making her body feel like it was being cooked in an oven. Harry started his final fight and won....

Her eyes were gone, she couldn't move or see now, but she could hear and feel. Why could she still feel? Why wasn't she dead yet? The epilogue stated that the characters had all gotten their happy ending with beautiful families of their own...

A noise above her sounded, distracting her from the cheery end of the book. The weight intensified and she no longer had a body. She was finally free of the pain.

Ariadne found herself breathing hard on the floor again. Her body wracked with tremors and sweat, felt as though she'd run for miles in her sleep. She rolled to her side, curling in on herself. Today she was leaving for Hogwarts.

Hogwarts was the school from the books. The books she'd read and loved. The books from her previous life. Her life where she hadn't been magic and couldn't protect herself from a painful death of fire, completely unlike the people in her History of Magic Book she'd packed up the night before. The book series about the school life of a boy called Harry Potter had been had been a cultural phenomenon that she'd read many times. Could she be in that world? Was this world just a story, made up in the dying mind of someone who was trying to escape the pain of death?

She tried to remember all that she could of the books and her previous life, but the harder she tried, the more it faded. She could remember names, descriptions, perhaps some plot points? No... it was fading more. She sat up shakily, clutching at her locket.

Last night she'd taken a piece of paper her mother had left her and folded it into the locket. The paper had the names of every relation she could remember from the wizarding world. She'd explained to Ariadne that squibs and muggles were considered lower class citizens and it was important to know who her wizard family was. The Black family had been very prominent and would get her a fair amount of recognition. The fact that she was a bastard to underaged wizards was a blemish, but could probably be overlooked if she showed off the locket. The locket had been a small keepsake of Regulus that he'd personally had inscribed with the Black family crest and motto, "Toujours Pur".

Purity of wizard blood was evidently very important to wizards. Professor McGonagall hadn't said anything about it, but from what her mother had described, she could easily be thrown out if she couldn't prove her origins. Her mother, after all, was a pureblood that came from a prominent family as well, but was discarded by her mother when she was proved to be a squib. She couldn't remember much of her own family and had to ask Regulus a little about it in order to piece together the family tree. His own, he'd been very proud to detail.

Ariadne carefully pulled out the paper, she'd folded it so the crudely drawn crest from her mother's memory could be presented first. The motto was curled around the crest, "corvus oculum corvi non eruit". It belonged to the house of Lestrange, choosing her mother's house over her supposed fathers'. Ariadne's grandparents had been divorced.

Ariadne murmured the words to herself and looked over the names. On her mother's side was only two names, that of her grandmother's Cersei Lestrange and Cersei's brother Rodolphus. Cersei was connected to a blacked out name and a question mark. The man that Cersei had married had not been her mother's father. She'd heard the rumors as a child, but she hadn't known until Ariadne's birth. Ariadne had been born with a certain strangeness and talent that was unconnected to either of her parents. Her mother had known who Ariadne's grandfather was, but refused to write the name into the family tree.

She gazed at her mother's name connected to that of Regulus Black. Leticia Avery. Her surname came from that of Cersei's ex husband, a man that hadn't been at all interested in being a father.

Something niggled at the back of her mind. Something was wrong. She tried hard to piece it together, staring at the names. Regulus' branch of the family was connected all over with multiple names. His own father's first cousin had 3 daughters who'd all married by the time of Ariadne's birth, adding the names Malfoy and Tonks. Even connecting the names of Rodolphus with Regulus's cousin Bellatrix. Regulus only had one older brother named Sirius who hadn't married or had children to anyone's knowledge.

Looking between the names of the two brothers, she realized the problem. Regulus wasn't supposed to have a child. Not according to the vague memories in her head of the books. Regulus who had died at 15, never revealed that he'd conceived a child and the child never appeared once in the books.

A slight hope perked up in her chest. Maybe that meant things were different than those stories. Maybe this meant that's all that they were... stories.

Another thought bit back against that hope... maybe this meant she was destined to disappear or die.

She shook her head and replaced the paper. She hurried to get ready, she was already a little late. Her grandparents hadn't made a move to wake her. Perhaps a last ditch effort to keep her from going?

They were both at the kitchen table when she dragged her school bag to the front door. Grandpa Lawrence forced her to eat breakfast, insisting she would regret it if she didn't get some food in her stomach. It was to be a long train ride to Scotland.

Ariadne was bouncing with excitement the entire way to King's Cross Station. She'd wanted to wear her wizarding robes before even arriving, but her grandparents had paled at the thought. They didn't follow her into the station and their goodbyes were stiff.

Looking up at their hard expressions, Ariadne felt a lump in her throat. She had to blink back the sensation of tears. She wished them the best and said she would send them letters before diving into the sea of people.

She found the wall divider between platforms nine and ten that Professor McGonagall had described, the tug in the back of her mind reminding her of the similarities to the books. She leaned casually against the wall and when no one was looking, slipped in. The barrier felt like water, but she came out completely dry to a platform packed with wizards and witches.

Families all over were hugging and kissing their children and helping them board the train. Ariadne felt the sob building in her, but she quickly hopped aboard the train without making eye contact with anyone. She ran along to the first empty compartment she could find and pulled her robes on over her t shirt and leggings. She grabbed the first book she could reach in her bag and buried her face in it, hoping to distract herself from crying.

Not five minutes later the compartment opened again and 4 kids her age came in, chatting animatedly. She offered up a polite smile over her book, but didn't speak. She felt a tremble in her and was afraid it would make her voice sound weird.

One of the boys gave a low whistle at the sight of her, "Hey there."

Her smile tightened.

"My name's Fred," He sat across from her, trying to look cool by messing up his flaming red hair. "This is my brother George and our friends Lee and Angelina."

A slight pang hit Ariadne's chest. Fred. Fred Weasley with his identical twin George. She remembered them from the books. She nodded to each of them nervously, the other names coming to her as well. Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson tied with the name Gryffindor. They were the same age as her though she was positive they were older in the books. That meant the books hadn't started.

She let out a tiny breath. "I'm Ariadne. Nice to meet you."

Both George and Angelina shook her hand in greeting. Angelina plopped down next to her while George and Lee took seats next to Fred. They'd already been having a conversation which they quickly resumed. Angelina was one year above them and was already planning to join her house Quidditch team. The boys excited to go over every detail of the team with her. Fred proudly boasted about his brother Charlie who had been on the Gryffindor team a few years prior.

Fred and George both seemed to ogle Ariadne who was becoming less interested in her book, looking up into their faces with polite interest, but having nothing to add to the conversation. Angelina finally seemed to think it was rude and asked what her favorite team was and whether or not she was planning to join a team.

"I've never seen a game," Ariadne said with a wry smile. "I don't really know anything about it."

"Are you joking?" Lee yelped. "What, are you muggle born or something?"

Ariadne flushed a little. "Not exactly, but I did grow up in the muggle world so I don't know much about it."

"That's okay," Angelina smiled warmly and gave Lee a reproving glance. "A lot of kids are raised in the muggle world. Quidditch is the wizard sport, it's played on broomstick."

Ariadne closed her book and tapped out a pattern on the cover, steadying herself with gentle breathing that Grandpa Lawrence had taught her. "Is it the only sport unique to wizards?"

"It's the only sport that matters," Fred butted in.

George grinned, "We're planning on joining our house team as soon as possible."

Angelina shrugged, "Don't get your hopes up too high, first years never get picked. You need to prove yourself on a broom first to Madam Hooch."

Ariadne raised her brows. "Who's that?"

"The flying instructor. She usually referees the games or is part of the team to catch students that fall."

"Does that happen often?" Ariadne tried to picture what it would be like to fall from a broom in the middle of playing a game.

"All the time!" Lee said enthusiastically. "It's one of the best parts of the game to watch players eat it."

"But we won't fall off our brooms," Fred shot out. "George and I have been flying since we were old enough to hold a broom and we're fast."

Angelina's mouth quirked at that. "Everyone free falls at some point, but it doesn't usually get too bloody. Maybe a couple broken bones, nothing hard to patch up. Our matron is very skilled and can fix anything in a heartbeat."

Ariadne had to shake her head. A couple of broken bones? Sure, she could do tricks on the jungle gym on the playground, but that was hardly a few feet from the ground. "Sounds kind of scary to me, I doubt I'd have the skills for that game."

"What house are you hoping for?" George asked unexpectedly.

Ariadne chewed her lip and tapped her book. "You first."

"Gryffindor, obviously!" Fred said excitedly. "Our whole family is in that house."

"Except for our younger siblings." George nodded.

"I'm hoping for Gryffindor too, but with my luck, I'll end up in Hufflepuff." Lee said with a hint of glumness.

Angelina raised her chin, "Hufflepuff isn't that bad."

"Yeah, at least it's not Slytherin." Fred reached across George to punch Lee's arm.

George smiled, "So what house are you hoping for then?"

"I'm not really sure..." Ariadne hedged. "Gryffindor doesn't sound too bad. I guess one of my uncles went there. From what Professor McGonagall said, Ravenclaw is for really smart kids and Hufflepuff is really diverse."

Angelina gave a firm nod. "Yeah, but a lot of the time you end up in the same house as most of your family."

Ariadne chewed harder on her lip, "Well, my father was a Slytherin so... I'm really not sure."

The mood went a little stale at that. Fred examined her face as if trying to spot some sort of indicator that she was made for a house he seemed to dislike.

"Well, it's not every time you end up in your parent's house. You said your uncle was Gryffindor? Maybe you'll be different too." Angelina said, trying to be encouraging.

Ariadne gave a nervous laugh. "A lot of rivalry between houses, huh?"

Angelina wrinkled her nose and smiled. "Yeah, you could say that. Slytherin's been on a winning streak in Quidditch and the House Cup for a couple years now and Gryffindor is a competitive house."

Just then, a knock at the door drew their attention. Angelina smiled and hopped up. "I gotta go hang out with some kids from my year, see you guys later."

They all waved and Fred leapt to take her spot next to Ariadne. He slung an arm over her shoulder in an overly familiar gesture. It made her face heat up, but she didn't shove him away.

"You seem like a good kid, you'll probably end up in Gryffindor with us," he said jovially.

Ariadne shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not very competitive. It'll probably be you and me in Hufflepuff, Lee."

Lee barked out a laugh, seeming cheered by the thought.

The boys all regaled her with stories their families had told them about the school and everything they knew about Quidditch. Ariadne found them easy to get along with, not minding at all at the way they monopolized the conversation.

After the snack trolley passed, none of them having enough money to spend on so much as a chocolate frog, George asked if she'd been able to practice any magic.

"A little," she smiled. This was an area she was little more confident in. She'd read all of the books she'd purchased from Flourish and Blotts and the majority of the little charms she'd tested on her paper animals had worked. She pulled her wand from her sleeve and made it shower sparks like a little firework.

"When did you first find out you had powers?" Lee asked, watching the little shower land without igniting anything.

Ariadne shrugged. "From the moment I was born, I guess. My mom said I showed magic from nearly my first day home from the hospital. I used to make things float around my nursery. It really freaked out my foster grandparents."

George's eyes widened. "Seriously? You have control over it?"

"A little bit. I mostly just learned to make things move, but I can read minds fairly well."

"Read minds?" Fred looked at her skeptically.

"Yeah, as long as I have eye contact I can go a little deeper and see memories, otherwise it's just a sort of buzz." Ariadne confirmed.

"No way!" Lee interjected. "No way you can read my mind."

Ariadne focused on him. She looked deeply into his dark brown eyes and as it had the first time she'd really wanted to search for something in particular, the word came to mind. Legilimens.

She was in his mind, watching him practice on a broom and falling in a pathetic heap, not three feet off the ground. She saw him talking about getting his acceptance letter to Hogwarts with people that must have been his parents. He was playing with a puppy with a short tail and floppy ears. Running along a stream with a paper boat. Trying on his school robes, pulling them on over his pants that had the name of a Quidditch team over his bum.

"What the hell was that?" Lee yelped, knocking her from her concentration.

"You support Ireland, huh?" Her mouth quirked into a little smirk.

"You saw that?" Lee covered his flushed face with his hands, looking mortified and not meeting her eyes.

She gave a shrug.

"Nuh-uh," Fred shook his head. "No way, you've got to try that with me. What am I thinking?"

She didn't have to use the spell for this one, it was at the forefront of his mind and she could hear it without issue. "You're thinking about the feast when we get to the castle... and that my mouth is pretty."

She blushed and looked away from him.

George rolled his eyes and bypassed the slightly flirty atmosphere. "Anyone could guess that. Tell me what I'm thinking."

She looked into his hazel eyes and frowned a little. "Sunshine... daisies... butter... yellow rats? What on earth is that supposed to be?"

George sat back, his eyes popping out of his head. "No way."

Fred laughed then, throwing his arm over her again. "That is so awesome!"

The boys spent a good hour trying to make her read weird phrases from their heads before getting tired of that and showing off their own minor spells. Fred managed to send her book flying into his own face, earning a bloody nose that thankfully wasn't broken. Lee howled at that and made a purple mushroom sprout from his wand, though that wasn't what he was trying to do.

  Their compartment filled with sparks and smoke and misfired spells. On request to show off more, Ariadne placed both hands on Fred's head and, thinking of her little paper animals, turned his hair an electric blue. At great peals of laughter, she turned George's hair a stunning yellow and Lee's dreads became bubblegum pink.

The whooping attracted a bit of attention from the other compartments and the same girl that reminded Ariadne of Miss Piggy in Madam Malkin's stuck her upturned nose in to look at them disapprovingly. Her lip curled at the sight of Ariadne sitting with the boys, a large white streak running through her hair making her look like a badger.

"That looks fun." The way she sneered the word fun made it sound like they were doing something incredibly childish.

Ariadne's cheeks burned and the white streak faded back to her normal black. She tapped her fingers and steadied her breathing, looking into the girl's beady eyes. "It was fun until you came in."

The girl scoffed at her. "You realize we'll be arriving soon, right? You should be getting ready."

The boys scowled and shooed her from the room so they could pull on their robes over their clothes. Ariadne made a show of covering her eyes so they could remove everything if they wanted to, garnering a laughable strip tease from Fred who lifted his shirt to expose his stomach that hadn't yet gained any real definition.

Ariadne chortled with them as the train came to a stop at Hogsmead Station and all of the students disembarked. Fred kept an arm slung over her, his hair still electric blue. An older boy came at them with a scowl, his fiery hair combed perfectly.

"What on earth did you do to your hair, George?" The boy trilled loudly.

"I'm not George, I'm Fred." Fred corrected smoothly, not minding the boy's tone at all.

George popped up behind them, his hair yellow. "Calm down, Percy. It was just a bit of fun on the train."

Percy turned his eyes on George looking furious. "Well, you'd better put it right before the sorting."

Ariadne eyed the boy. There was a definite resemblance, outside of the red hair of course. He held himself completely different, but she could see that his eyes were very similar to the twins. He was their older brother, Percy. A 3rd year.

Another, older boy leaned over Percy's shoulder and let out a howl of laughter at the twins' bizarre hair colors. "Come off it, Perc. It's funny."

This boy had to be in his final year, he had the same red hair, but unlike Percy, he was relaxed. He had a lopsided smile and his hair was a little ruffled, but fairly neat. He grinned at the way Fred's arm was draped over Ariadne's shoulder.

"Not even off the train yet and you found a girlfriend, very smooth, little brother." The boy held out a hand to her. "I'm Bill."

She shook it with a laugh and shoved Fred's arm off of her. "Don't get ahead of yourself. You are clearly the brother with the looks."

It was easy to make a joke like that with Bill. He gave off such a casual atmosphere.

He laughed. "It's true, but give it a couple years, they might turn out to be cool yet."

They were laughing when a call came. "First years, over here."

Bill gave the boys a little shove. "You better go, you guys are getting on the boats."

Ariadne waved goodbye and followed the little swarm of first years toward a towering beast of man. The man was taller than anyone she'd ever met and his features were almost completely obscured by a crazy tangle of dark hair, but she could make out the twinkling black eyes over a wide smile. She blinked. Hagrid. The names were coming so easily now. She didn't even need to think about it.

Hagrid herded the first year students to the dock at the side of the lake, making sure they all got into boats in little groups of no more than four. Ariadne placed her hands on the boys' heads and their hair faded back to the normal colors.

The boats moved along the lake of their own accord, not requiring any sort of guidance by the students or Hagrid. Fred kept trying to capsize their little boat, plunging his hands into the icy water and trying to spot the giant squid that was rumored to be in the lake. Ariadne was wowed by the sight of the approaching castle though.

The castle was magnificent with massive towers whose windows glowed yellow. The largest windows facing the lake had to be the grand hall where they would be sorted. Ariadne felt her heart pounding harder and harder, her anxiety mounting.

As they were ushered into the hall, she noted that she wasn't the only one on the verge of hyperventilating. Even the twins were starting to take on a green hue. She grabbed at their sleeves convulsively when a group of ghosts floated into the hall to greet them. They were all getting shakier as it came time to enter the hall.

Ariadne wanted to shrink into the twins' shadows, but she forced herself to walk calmly alongside the others past all of the older, already seated students. The staff table was at the front of the room, their chairs turned away from the stunning view of the lake to see the students like the painting of the last supper. It made Ariadne gulp.

Her gaze roved over the staff table. She could name them all the moment she spotted them even though she knew none of their faces. They didn't quite look like the actors in the film adaptions of the books. These, after all, were all real people and not polished celebrities. Even so, the movies hadn't gotten it quite wrong... just like the Weasleys weren't that far off. They weren't the same people, but they were still recognizable.

Professor McGonagall led them right up to the table where first and foremost was Professor Dumbledore. Like the films and drawings, he was tall and thin with an incredibly long, white beard and halfmoon spectacles. He was certainly old, but he had a vibrance that was impossible to mistake. He was smiling as though he was absolutely delighted to be there, looking over the students fondly.

Ariadne's gaze swept to either side of Dumbledore and came to a freeze on an incredibly handsome man with long black hair. Gazing at him, she knew at once who he must be, but there had to be a mistake. If the books were to be believed and so far they hadn't gotten anything wrong, this had to be Professor Snape, the potions teacher. But no, he was far too attractive.

  Professor Snape wasn't looking at the new students, he was talking to a teacher on his left. She became somewhat transfixed by the movement of his lips. His hair fell in two perfect curtains, framing a pale, distinguished face. He was young looking... she had to do a little bit of mental math, trying to figure out the timeline. If this truly was the world of the books, she fought through the fog, desperate to remember... He wasn't yet mid-thirties.

Heat crept up her neck and she had to tap her hands to her hip, counting her breaths to steady herself. The Professor looked like some sort of glorious statue, his posture perfect, his long nose was distinguished, not unattractive. His dark eyes were framed by long, dark lashes and there was an elegance to the way his pale lips moved. Ariadne felt herself gulp.

George tugged at her arm to draw her attention. He nodded towards a stool that was now positioned in front of them, a ratty old hat perched atop it.

Ariadne barely heard the song of the sorting hat, even though it should, by all rights, be the most interesting thing in the room at the moment. All other eyes seemed focused on the hat as it cheerfully described the attributes of the four houses. Ariadne had to work hard to keep her eyes from sliding back to the face of the teacher.

Professor McGonagall began calling up the students in alphabetical order. Ariadne had inherited her father's last name of Black so she was about the third one to be called. She glanced at the twins anxiously and slid past them to sit on the stool and try on the hat.

"Hm... very peculiar." A voice said in her ear.

Ariadne felt a weird sensation, like a probing in her mind. It wasn't comfortable and she tried to mentally shove it away from herself.

"Stop that!" The hat commanded. "You certainly are strong and observant. I see you have a natural gift for Legilimency and Occlumency. You should train that more. Perhaps Ravenclaw?"

Ariadne felt focus shifting again, she wanted to look over her shoulder to see if the professor was looking in her direction. If he truly was who she thought, he was head of Slytherin house, wasn't he?

"Taken a liking to Professor Snape, have you?" The hat sneered. "Your mind is certainly a bit dirtier than most students your age."

Ariadne blushed, her hands twitching to rip off the hat and throw it across the room.

"Easy there, child." The hat soothed. "It was a jest. You could honestly do well in Slytherin. I see your father was one. In fact, most of your family have been Slytherins."

Her thoughts flicked to the twins. Would they still want to be her friends if she was Slytherin?

"Hm... yes, you could be in Gryffindor, but it truly is a house for the brawny. Are you sure you want to be surrounded by that sort of energy? Slytherin would help you be great, you have an excellent mind and your magic has certain qualities that really ought to be polished. You're right about Professor Snape being the head, he could guide you in many things."

A shudder ran down her spine. No, she wasn't especially suited for Gryffindor. She could feel it. If even a quarter of the books were true, she didn't really belong there. Ravenclaw was a little too brainy, extremely academic. She was fascinated by magic, but would she be able to keep up with an entire house full of brainiacs? Maybe Hufflepuff was the safest?

"Well, I suppose you could go that route," The hat drawled, seeming a little bored with her hesitation. "Hufflepuffs are quite hard workers, diverse and welcoming. But you, you like a challenge, don't you? You don't want to be held back just to maintain friendships. If they really do have the potential to be your friends, wouldn't they still like you even if you were in Slytherin?"

Yes... that was true. George's smile came to mind, warm. They'd been so nice on the train. If it was for real, they wouldn't change just because of the sorting. It wasn't like this decision made her evil. She wanted to learn how to use her powers to the greatest extent. She also wanted to see more of the house her father had come from. Her mother had always said he'd been the bravest man she'd known.

Snape's face popped up in her head again. She gave the idea an angry push. No, she wasn't a lovestruck child. Handsome though he was, she should be more interested in what he could teach her. She'd loved looking through her potions book and a small fact cropped up that she had to wonder about if it was true. Was he really good at Legilimency? Could he teach her?

"Looks like you've made your decision." The hat sneered a little and announced in a loud voice, "Slytherin!"

Ariadne ripped the hat off gratefully. She looked toward the twins who seemed dejected. She gave them a sad smile and winked. She headed toward the Slytherin table who banged on their table and whooped. A couple of boys made room for her and a few people openly eyed her hungrily.

Ariadne pursed her lips, sitting down and glancing out of the corner of her eye to the staff table. Snape had clapped a couple of times, his head turned in her direction. She chewed on her lip, another shudder running though her. What the heck? Wasn't he supposed to be a greasy old man?

 The sorting continued. The blond Miss Piggy had been sorted into Slytherin as well. Great. She hadn't even noticed before she sat down.

She saw Lee Jordan get sorted to Gryffindor. The twins were the last ones up this year, being that their last name was Weasley. They both went to Gryffindor.

Professor Dumbledore rose to welcome students and offered up one out-of-place word as his "speech". The word was "kumquat". That earned a few chuckles around the room and the feast began. Many people around Ariadne rushed to greet her and she quickly forgot their names. The two prefects this year were polite, both of them shoving off the boys who were leering a little too obviously. Ariadne had known she was pretty, but the muggle boys had always talked openly about her weirdness. These boys didn't seem at all put off by her cat-like gaze.

The feast ended awhile later after a rendition of the school song. Most of the Slytherins didn't bother to sing or if they did, it was monotone. A couple of people seemed to be competing at making it the best, they were probably part of the choir. Professor Dumbledore seemed jubilant, despite the horrible differences in tones and speeds. The other teachers seemed relieved when it was over.

The speech was short and of little interest with mild warnings about school rules the prefects were sure to go into further detail about. By this time, everyone was clearly showing signs of drowsiness. The prefects led the first years off in different directions.

Ariadne had to dig her nails into her palm to keep herself focused enough to remember the path they took into the dungeons. The students gathered a seemingly blank wall, but on closer inspection, Ariadne was able to spot a serpent carved into one of the bricks. The prefects announced the password which today was Emerald. The bricks moved aside, much like they did at Diagon Alley. The dim lights made the common room feel cozy. She followed the two other girls her age to their own room with four poster beds. The windows let in a sort of eerie green light. She realized it was because they were under the lake when a shoal of fish went by.

She laid down on the bed with her school trunk at the foot, barely able to climb out of her robes. She fell asleep quickly, the dim light on her face.

Burning. She could feel her organs being cooked. The blood in her throat and mouth was boiling, just adding to the pain of the flames. She wanted to cry, but if tears did come, they burned just as hot as everything else.

Her fingers tried to curl from their pinned positions, desperate to claw herself free. She couldn't gather enough air to scream. Her throat was on fire and the air tasted of dust.

Why could she still feel? Why hadn't shock taken away all her pain? Wasn't that what was supposed to happen in this situation? She was on fire, how could she still be conscious?

The book continued to play in her ear. Handsome Professor Snape died and no one but Harry mourned him and that was only after looking into the pensive. How could such a brave man die so alone?

A crunch in her center knocked the tiny bit of air free.

Ariadne found herself in the common room again. She was curled in the corner of the room, as far from the fireplace as she could get. She was shaking all over and looking around, she was relieved to find that no one else was up yet.

She stood up stiffly and went back into her room to change. She rushed out before anyone else could stir. She slid through the hallways of the dungeon, trying to learn the layout though she was certain that some rooms were changing positions.

Without knowing how she'd ended up there, she found a large painting of a fruit bowl. She didn't consciously think of the books, but she knew what to do. She reached up a finger to the lone green pear and ran a finger over it delicately. She tickled.

The pear in the painting gave a little giggle and the painting swung inward. She crawled through a tiny tunnel and into a massive, bustling kitchen. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene. The kitchen was far bigger than any she'd ever seen, the counters and tables were all short and every station was occupied by small, bat-eared creatures.

"Hello!" The creatures greeted her happily as though they'd been waiting for her arrival and were pleased she'd found the place.

Ariadne couldn't help but smile back. "Hello. I'm Ariadne."

The elves converged on her, offering her a seat and an assortment of snacks. They cooed over her beauty, a couple asked if she'd like them to brush her nearly waist-length hair. Ariadne was a little overwhelmed and told them she hadn't meant to disturb their work, she'd just been curious to meet them. This made many of them blush and bow.

One elf had gotten a wooden comb from nowhere and was looking at Ariadne hopefully. Ariadne sat down and allowed the elf to comb her hair. The elf introduced herself as Merry. Merry had large green eyes and a tiny nose like a bunny. She was very delicate with her brushing, it reminded Ariadne of her mother.

Ariadne clutched at her locket. She wished her mother could be here. Her mother would've been so happy to see this place. She was aware that these were called house elves and that they worked as servants. They all wore little togas made from tea towels. Merry herself had even decorated it with a blue ribbon. Merry informed her that young wizards rarely sought them out, especially Slytherins. Ariadne was a pleasant surprise in their midst.

Merry braided Ariadne's hair and marveled at how pretty her features were. It made Ariadne blush in embarrassment. She couldn't imagine how such sweet and friendly creatures were treated as second class citizens. They were so eager to please her, so proud of their work at the castle.

It didn't appear to be in their nature to talk about themselves, but she learned that Merry in particular loved beautiful things. Ariadne pulled a piece of pink paper from her pocket and folded a little butterfly that fluttered its wings, handing it to Merry as a thank you. Merry's eyes filled with tears and as Ariadne said her goodbyes, the elves insisted on filling her pockets with sweets.

Ariadne made her way back to great hall in a daze. She honestly couldn't decide if everything was real. The books were becoming dim again, but as she had often known what things were called without being told as a child, she understood what her surroundings were even if they didn't feel entirely real. Was this world just a dream made by a dying mind?

She pinched herself and it certainly felt real. She could feel her fingers brush the smooth fabric of the plain, black robe whose house insignia had magically appeared on the lefthand side of her chest this morning. Or maybe that wasn't magic. Maybe the elves had stitched the houses onto their school robes in the night. Her fingers brushed the tightly embroidered insignia of Slytherin house. It felt true to her.

Students sat near here and she discreetly emptied her pockets of all the treats, nibbling on some, and keeping only her favorites. They crumbled in her mouth, delicious and well made. Real. The noise of students eating and talking filled the hall, echoing a little. Real.

She tilted her head to look up. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside, but it was so high up, it hardly even registered. She'd barely noticed the night before because it had been so dark and starless. They'd had floating candles, held it place without chandeliers which had been interesting enough, but on a nice day like today, candles weren't necessary.

Now she could see clearly that the blue sky hung like gauze over their heads, filled with clouds and warm sunshine. If she looked hard enough, she could make out the curved stone of ceiling, proving that it was solid and the top of hall hadn't simply been left open to the elements.

A piece of parchment slid in front of her. She looked around and spotted Professor Snape at the head of the table, sending parchments to each student with his wand. He was too far for her to see his face clearly, but she still felt a little blush creep over her cheeks and she had to drop her eyes to the sheet.

The sheet detailed her course schedule, listing what classes she would be taking and where. Potions were to be her first class. His class.

She chewed on her bottom lip anxiously and looked around at her fellow students. Only a handful of first years were near here, all the students interspersed at the long table. She was able to overhear one other first year ask an older student what the classes were like and listened in interest.

"You'll want to pay close attention in potions," the older student was saying. "Professor Snape favors his own house, but he doesn't tolerate slackers or smart mouths. He's very strict."

Ariadne had to take several deep breaths. "What about the other teachers?"

The older student, a girl with short blond hair and freckled face, glanced over at Ariadne. "You're first years so you only have basic courses so far. McGonagall teaches transfigurations, she's strict and doesn't like us Slytherins. Keep your head down in her class. Flitwick does charms and he's a complete dolt so you don't have to worry about that one. Binns is the ghost that teaches History of Magic and he is more boring than death. You'll want to get some gopher to take notes in that class for you."

"Gopher?" The Miss Piggy first year chimed in, shooting Ariadne a dirty look.

"A goody-two-shoes student that takes diligent notes. Ravenclaws are the best for that, but Hufflepuffs can be real push-overs."

Ariadne bit the inside of her cheek. Of course they would recommend bullying a better student. Miss Piggy let out a snort of derisive laughter, really engraining the "pig" imagery.

"Who teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Ariadne asked.

The student shrugged. "Some Professor Thornton or something. That job is jinxed, every year we get a different one or lots of substitutes. I don't know why they don't just let Professor Snape do it, he applies for the job every year. He's been here for like 12 years and for some reason he never gets picked even though the job is always available and he's the best."

Ariadne nodded a thanks and shook the girl's hand when she'd finished giving Ariadne the full rundown. She was in her last year and called Marlene Bulstrode. She said she had a cousin coming to this school in a couple years, but by that time she'd have graduated. Milicent was definitely going to be a Slytherin though.

Owls came, but only a handful of first years got letters. It was only the first day after all. Ariadne wondered if it was too soon to write to her grandparents. Would they be able to respond?

  She followed the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors to the potions classroom back down the stairs to the dungeons. She tried to smile at the twins, but they were engrossed in conversation with Lee and didn't look in her direction as she walked near them.

The door to potions was opened and the students filed in. Fred, George and Lee took a table in the center of the room. Ariadne watched other students sit down and was struck by the immediate segregation of houses. Without any sort of prompting, the Slytherins took places on one side of the room and Gryffindors the other.

Very deliberately, she went up to their table and smiled. "Mind if I sit with you guys?"

A couple of Slytherins looked over, seeming scandalized. There couldn't possibly be some code of etiquette here. It was the first day of their first term!

Lee waited to see what the twins would do first. Fred seemed to be looking her up and down before both he and George grinned and welcomed her, shooting sneers at the Slytherin side of the room. George moved aside so Ariadne could sit between the two redheaded boys and Fred threw his arm over her chair.

A smile lit Ariadne's face. They were still willing to be her friends. Then the professor entered the room.

He came from a side door that must've been his private office. He appraised the class coldly, trying to spot any sort of indiscretions on the first day. Ariadne willed herself to stay calm, tapping her leg under the table to count her breaths.

Professor Snape was more handsome up close. His pale skin was smooth without any sign of smile lines. His black, fathomless eyes were surrounded by absolutely perfect black lashes. Even in the dim lighting of the dungeons, his hair had a glossiness that would've made her jealous if she'd had less confidence in her looks. Confidence fully earned by the beauty of her parents who'd both been stunning. She was certain that even if she'd inherited the worst qualities of the two, she'd still be quite pretty.

The professor began with explaining the syllabus, referring the blackboard where he'd written it out. Ariadne quickly copied it down in her notebook, not because she really needed too, but because it gave her something else to focus on other than the deep gravel of his voice or the way his lips moved when he spoke. The boys at the table didn't seem to notice that she was slightly manic.

"Let us see who of you bothered to crack open your books before coming into my classroom with a little review." Snape sneered out the words. "Raise your hand if you know what a bezoar is."

Ariadne tentatively raised her hand, barely holding it at chest-level. None of the boys seemed interested in answering, even though from what she'd read, they were common enough to be found in their own house medical kits.

Snape seemed to zero in on their table which was clearly the odd one out with three Gryffindor boys and the one Slytherin girl. Two of the boys were possessively angled toward her, their flaming red hair most determinedly drawing the eye.

"You," he directed to Ariadne who dropped her eyes to keep from looking into the black depths.

"A bezoar is a stone found in the stomach of a goat. It's used to cure poisonings and are a standard in a wizarding first aid supply." She answered in her calmest voice.

"Correct." Snape said in a clipped tone. "Who knows the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

Again, Ariadne's hand went up, but she prayed someone else would be called. George was looking at her pointedly in a way that made her blush. He seemed to sense something was up. Fred was lolling back in his chair, still hanging onto hers, but looking reasonably impressed with her.

"Yes?" Snape looked to her table again.

"They're the same plant. They're a poisonous, flowering plant of the aconite family. People call them Monkshood because of the shape of the blossoms which are often white or purple, but wizards use the plant to create the wolfsbane potion which is administered to werewolves in order to keep their symptoms in check." Ariadne wanted to crawl under the table and hide. Did her table have some sort of spotlight only Professor Snape could see?

George was now eyeing her very carefully while Fred had perked up at her answer. He whispered something to Lee, but Ariadne couldn't seem to hear over the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. When the next question came, she seriously considered not raising her hand, just so she wouldn't be called on. Had Professor Snape caught on to her embarrassment?

"What are the two most essential ingredients in the Wiggenweld potion that must be measured exactly to ensure the healing properties don't become dangerous?"

Ariadne closed her eyes and raised her hand. "Lionfish spines and salamander blood."

She looked up into his eyes, ready to beg him to stop calling on her. She met his eyes, trying to shove her will into him. Then it happened. She fell back against Fred's arm, her head feeling like Professor Snape had just thrown something at her.

Not only had Snape realized what she was trying to communicate, he'd shoved her very forcefully back. Her mind had connected with his for the briefest of moments as she'd wondered if he was embarrassing her on purpose and she saw the first level of his conscious mind. Yes, he was sardonic and took pleasure from making the first years squirm. He hadn't appreciated the invasion of her mind though and had put up an instant block that hit her with surprising force.

Fred steadied her a little, shooting glares over at Snape. He didn't know what had happened, but he was certain it was Snape's fault. George seemed to want to shield her, by shifting in his seat. She smiled at them gratefully.

Thankfully, Professor Snape decided that was the right time to get them working on their first potion. He berated the rest of the class for not paying better attention to their studies before school had even started, directing it mostly toward the Gryffindor side of the room. He made their cauldrons appear at their tables with a flick of his wand and changed the blackboard to their first potion, the Wiggenweld potion.

Ariadne copied down the potion recipe from the board into her notebook even though she had her textbook out. The boys were clumsy in their measurements, still glaring daggers at Snape.

"You okay?" George asked her softly, pouring out a little too much salamander blood into a tube.

She reached over and helped him pour the excess back into its bottle. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just shouldn't have looked into his mind. I was being rude."

Fred let out a chuckle. "You tried to read his mind?"

Her cheeks burned a little. "It's reflexive. I can't always control it very well."

"Is that why you knew the answers?" Lee asked casually, putting way too many lionfish spines onto the scales and using the wrong counterweight.

"No, I read the book," Ariadne switched out his weights, a little annoyance creeping into her voice.

"Did you?" Fred glanced up from his doodling on his own notebook.

Her annoyance ebbed at the drawing of Snape with an exaggeratedly large nose that had bats flying out of the nostrils. "Yeah, remember I was raised with muggles so it was the first time I'd even learned that dragons were real. Potions and Fantastic Beasts have the best pictures. You know that muggle pictures don't move at all."

Fred frowned at her as his cartoon Snape began animatedly sneezing poorly drawn bats. "They don't move? Like at all?"

She shook her head, getting out some peppermint leaves that weren't strictly necessary to making her potion. She added them anyway, just in case Professor Snape made them drink their own potions. She didn't really want to know what powdered lionfish tasted like. George stared at the board to make sure that he didn't have to add peppermint to make the potion work, still crushing his spines with a pummel.

Fred looked into his own cauldron which was a sickly sort of green by now. "What is this stuff for?"

"It's a sort of health tonic," Ariadne looked back and forth between her shiny emerald potion to his sickly one, trying to figure out what he'd done different. "Did you stir this counterclockwise?"

"No, he didn't." Professor Snape leaned over their desk to look into their cauldrons, checking their progress. "You're supposed to keep the potion moving counterclockwise while you add the powdered lionfish spines."

Ariadne saw his lip curl at Fred's drawing. She quickly flicked her ladle so a splash of her potion landed on the picture, making the ink run. Professor Snape's eyes roved over her potion and then to her eyes. She felt a strange tickle, as though he was testing her consciousness, but not outright invading her the way the Sorting Hat had.

She took a deep breath and pictured a wall in her head. She didn't know if that was the correct thing to do, but it gave her something else to think about. Something that wasn't his long lashes or the quirk in his lips.

She dropped her eyes and turned to help Lee again with his measurements. She didn't feel like she could breathe again till Snape had finished perusing the room and moved back to his desk.

"You should be ready to bottle your potions in a moment." Professor Snape announced.

Ariadne filled a bottle quickly and looked over the boys' before deciding they were okay. Fred's wasn't quite opaque enough now, but it was the right color. He had his arm over her shoulder as they went to deliver their potions to Snape's desk. Ariadne smiled at his easy attitude.

Professor Snape assigned them an essay which had to be measured by the length of their parchment. Both twins had their arms on her shoulders as they left the classroom, making it so they had to do a sort of side step to get through the door. They had her laughing all the way to her next class.

 Their schedules weren't exactly the same so while she was headed to History of Magic with Ravenclaws, the boys were going to Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. This time she didn't know anyone in the classroom so she simply sat at the first available seat.

Miss Piggy leaned toward her from the seat on her right. "So, you've decided to keep up your little friendship with those boys."

Ariadne put a smile on her face, not willing to be cowed by this girl. "They're funny and I like to laugh."

Miss Piggy gave a sniff. "Funny, huh? I suppose being dirt poor could be considered funny."

Ariadne's brow creased against her will. "What exactly is supposed to be funny about being poor?"

"They're part of Weasley family, right?" Miss Piggy sneered the name. "They're a pureblood family, but they practically live like muggles because they have way too many kids. I've even heard their dad is obsessed with muggles, the traitor."

Ariadne stared at the girl. She supposed her mother had been right, at least about some. She chewed her lip a little and turned toward the front of room slowly. A ghost came into the classroom via the blackboard, gliding right through the wall.

She soon found that he was tremendously boring and if she wanted to pass this class, she would need to pay attention to the books because listening to Professor Binns was going to be next to impossible. Ariadne began drawing in her book. She wasn't used to using a quill so her page was blotted quite a bit, putting large black spots on her drawing of a snake curled around a cauldron.

Without any real intention, she'd made the picture move, the snake was trying to eat its own tail, kept from swallowing much more than the tip by the base of the cauldron. Its writhing body went around and around the cauldron legs, trying to eat itself.

She frowned at the spinning snake, trying to redirect it by drawing mice, but the snake was determined to continue eating its own body without success while the mice ran around it, taunting.

Herbology was marginally more interesting. Professor Sprout was a plump, older woman that was head of Hufflepuff house. Her hands were covered in dirt, but didn't seem to notice even as she scratched her nose and got a big smudge of dirt on her face.

At lunch Ariadne made an effort to get to know some of her own housemates. A boy with sleek brown hair and blue eyes introduced himself as Franklin Dolohov and wasted no time in telling her that she should sit with him at the next potions class instead of those Weasley boys. Tabitha Marsh, a dirty blond girl, didn't seem to like this idea as she was hanging on Franklin's every word.

Ariadne got along well enough with a girl called Birdie Erikson who was a halfblood that also lived with muggles. She was quite clear with about her disdain for her father's muggleness even though he seemed to be happy with his wife and child being witches. Ariadne reasoned that even with a muggle father, she didn't have to be very far removed from the wizard world.

Ariadne's own story of being an orphan abandoned to muggles gathered a little bit of unwanted sympathy. Franklin even offered to let her stay at his place for the summer, earning her a nasty look from Tabitha. Ariadne waved off this offer, saying that summer was a long way off and she wasn't making any plans yet.

Miss Piggy's name turned out to be Ashlynn Avery. Ariadne wondered if there was any relation between her and Cersei's husband, but would be damned to hell before she asked. Ashlynn wasn't from the richest of families, but carried herself as though she was. She declared that her family even had a house elf, which from the sound of it, was not treated too well. Ariadne decided to keep the way into the kitchens a secret from this lot.

Flying class took place with the Gryffindors. The twins found Ariadne right away, Franklin glared at them, but Ariadne greeted them as kindly as they did her. George purposefully put himself between her and Franklin, again as though he was shielding her while Fred again made a point of physical contact.

The twins were excited about being able to fly on their first day. Ariadne soon found that she did not trust the thin branch of wood to be her only support in the air. She didn't hate heights or anything, but she didn't feel half as comfortable on a broom as the boys looked. Lee was a little more unsteady than the twins which cheered her a bit since the twins seemed to be testing Madam Hooch's patience with their antics.

Ariadne found she was quite grateful to walk back to the school on solid ground. Fred and George laughed and hung onto her in front of Franklin. She would've liked to spend more time with them after classes, but they cheerfully informed her of their first detention.

"Will you guys be able to eat a proper dinner?" She worried.

George shrugged unconcerned.

"Lee said he'd save us some food for when we get back to our common room." Fred informed her.

She smiled to Lee, then pulled the boys aside. "I found the kitchens this morning, just in case you need a little more."

Fred grinned hugely at that. He seemed delighted that she was already wandering around the school. She explained to them where the kitchens were located. "The elves are really nice, they'll give you food without even having to ask."

Fred exaggerated how grateful he was for the information and planted a big kiss on her cheek when he was sure Franklin was looking. Franklin scowled and stocked off. Ariadne laughed exuberantly.

 Overall, her classes went smoothly. She, along with her whole class, groaned when Astronomy class took place in the dead of night. They had to trudge all the way to the tallest tower to look at the stars. It wasn't the most uninteresting class, but it was the most annoying one to prepare for.

As time went on, Ariadne became accustomed to her schedule. She got used to wandering the grounds, usually on the heels of the boys who were quickly finding everything of interest, dangerous or not. She was better at avoiding trouble than they were and more academically inclined. She tried to spend as much time with them as possible, but found that more often than not, they were occupied in the evenings so she had to spend time in her own house common room.

Lee was not as interested in spending time with her out of the company of the twins so she found herself studying with Birdie most of the time. Every now and then she'd duck into the kitchens to hang out with Merry who would brush Ariadne's hair and delighted at any accessories Ariadne brought and asked about when Ariadne would start wearing makeup.

The only disappointment at Hogwarts was the letter situation. At the end of her first day, Ariadne sent a letter with one of the school owls. She sent one every other day with no response until just after Halloween when she got a single note from her grandparents saying that they were glad she was enjoying her school, but that they did not want to get any more owls from her. They would just wait to see her at Christmas.

Fred and George tried to cheer her by jumping out of random hiding places to scare her, but it never worked. The more time she spent with them, the easier it became to pick up on the tenor of their thoughts. She knew whenever they were in the vicinity without even having to search for that flaming hair.

Potions became her favorite class. She found that she had an easy time with mixing potions and understanding how and why things worked. It became second nature to correct the boys' potions as she made her own. They kept her entertained and focused so she didn't drift off, staring at the potions' teacher.

Any time she was allowed to drift, she found herself looking at Professor Snape. The way he traced his mouth with the tips of his fingers when he was contemplating something completely entranced her. She couldn't help but watch his long, pale fingers whenever he gestured. His shiny hair practically glittered under the candlelight, she imagined it could have rainbow gleam in the sunshine like an oil slick.

Every time she found herself enraptured by his beautiful lashes, George would pull her back with a question about the potions they were working on. She'd turn her attention to him with a sheepish smile. George seemed to pick up on her interest in Snape quicker than anyone else. He would look at her from the corner of his eye, his thoughts probing.

The holidays quickly became a disaster when she returned on the train with presents she'd created that her grandparents threw away as soon as they could. They weren't as happy to see her as the twins were when she got back on the train to go back to school, fighting back tears.

The boys didn't have any real sensitivity, but even so, she was happy being their friend. Even when worries creeped in on her. They'd told her about their little brother named Ron and their only sister named Ginny. Both names that niggled at her memories of a different life. Ron would be starting school in her 3rd year and Ginny would start the following. If the strange memories were to be believed, the year Ron started school, would also be the year that a boy called Harry Potter would come.

She casually dropped the name one day and felt her stomach drop when the boys knew exactly who she was talking about. They wondered aloud when Harry would come to school, if he'd even come to this one. He was, after all, a big deal. The Boy Who Lived.

Ariadne went through library books like water, pouring endlessly over A History of the Dark Arts and other books that detailed the fairly recent history during which The Dark Lord or He Who Must Not Be Named ran his campaign of horror.

She chewed her lip till it was purple from bruising. The nightmares persisted on an almost nightly basis. She found herself waking up in different places after every one. Sometimes she'd be in the common room, sometimes wandering about the dungeons, even going as far as the owlery in her sleep. Some nights Merry or one of the other house elves would guide her back to safety, keeping her from getting into trouble with Filch, the caretaker. His cat, Mrs. Norris was an ever present guardian/snitch in the school. Most of the students absolutely despised her, but Ariadne liked sneaking the white mice out of Transfiguration as treats for the little grey cat.

After the Easter holidays, Bill surprised her by asking her to show him how she turned Fred's hair a dusty shade of purple. Bill was cool and spent most of his time preparing for his N.E.W.Ts that would be his last big exam before graduating. He laughed when she showed him, saying it was something like how Tonks from Hufflepuff made her hair change colors.

"Tonks?" Ariadne asked in a surprised chirp, the name triggering something in her head.

"Yeah?" A girl stopped and stumbled from her little group that were walking through the courtyard.

The girl was tall and willowy with shocking pink hair in fun little spikes. She tripped over a cobblestone coming toward them. Bill reached out an arm to help her. He told the girl that Ariadne could change the color of other peoples' hair in a similar fashion.

Ariadne blushed, "But I can't do it very well on my own hair and it's just colors. I can't change my appearance or anything."

"Aw, that's a shame," the girl called Tonks said, displaying how she could change her facial figures by just concentrating.

"Tonks here is studying to be an Auror." Bill smiled lopsidedly at Tonks, causing her to blush and laugh.

"It really depends on how I do on my N.E.W.Ts." Tonks gave a wave.

Ariadne frowned down at her locket. "Um... you're a halfblood, right? Your dad is muggleborn and your mom is called Andromeda..."

Tonks scrutinized Ariadne for a long moment. "Yeah, that's right. How'd you know that?"

Ariadne's face burned a little. "I um.. I think you're a cousin of mine. Andromeda is part of the Black family, she was my dad's first cousin."

"Really?" Tonks looked Ariadne up and down with interest. "I didn't know my mom had any first cousins that were still alive or had kids."

Ariadne fumbled with the clasp of her locket and pulled out the piece of paper that was looking worse and worse with multiple folding and unfolding. She offered it to Tonks, pointing to the name Andromeda listed after Narcissa and Bellatrix Black.

Tonks scanned over the rest of the paper. "Regulus had a daughter, huh? How old would that have made him?"

Ariadne lifted the locket to show the picture. "He was fifteen. Just a kid. I never met him, I just have this picture my mom took."

Tonks marveled at the way the pictures didn't move, same as some of her dad's family photos. Ariadne shuffled a little in place, this was the first time she'd met any relative of her father's and that little digging feeling in the back of her mind was becoming more and more persistent. Tonks was so friendly and cheerful, Ariadne couldn't understand why she felt somewhat sad talking to her.

"Would it be okay if... I mean... maybe you could write me... and let me know how Auror training is?" Ariadne blurted as Tonks was leaving.

Tonks smiled widely and agreed.

 The end of the year exams came and went and before long, they were having the end of the year feast. Ariadne wasn't exactly looking forward to the summer, but the twins promised to send her letters. She was sure this would bother her grandparents, but in a fit of anger, she decided she didn't care what they thought.

She went home braced for arguments, but it ended up just being a kind of dreary summer. Her grandparents didn't stop her from studying, but they had her restrict it to the confines of her own bedroom. They refused to talk about her school, preferring to pretend it was just a normal boarding school, only when the owls came delivering birthday presents and letters did they seem put out.

And so... she turned 12.

Ariadne found herself spending much more time on her own. Her grandparents couldn't seem to bring themselves to go into The Leaky Cauldron, let alone Diagon Alley. She collected her school books and necessary potion ingredients on her own.

She'd done her homework and then some, writing up lists of potions she wanted to try making when she was away from the confined space of the little London flat. Not being allowed to practice spells irked her so she had pushed the limits to what the Ministry of Magic seemed willing to allow.

Underage wizards had a trace on them to make sure they didn't get caught by muggles doing magic in ways that could physically or mentally scar them. Ariadne couldn't use her wand while underage unless she was in mortal peril so flashy spells that required incantations were right out. Instead, she focused on manipulating her magic through her hands. Her collection of paper animals began to get a little out of hand, many making bids for freedom into the rest of the flat.

She'd found a loophole in the Ministry's monitoring. If you were to make things by hand, small things like talismans, the trace didn't register enchantments. It was tedious work, but by pouring a continuous amount of magic with very complicated incantations, she could create things with minor charms. Truly powerful enchanted items required wand-work and potions of higher tiers than what she'd learned in her first year so at most she could create tiny protection talismans that kept people from getting sick and the like.

It wasn't much use, since these sorts of weak enchantments were complicated and required a great deal of focus and feeling. Something that had bothered her about the books, whenever she could get a grasp on any details in her head, was that they didn't explain how magic was used. Everyone had seemed to have a limitless pool of magic to draw on and no spells were off limits for anyone to learn.

Ariadne's personal study on the matter, showed that not all wizards were equal in their abilities. All spells required a certain amount of feeling, you had to force your will into defying the natural laws of physics. This worked best on things that were already changing regularly like the human body which grows, withers, gets sick, and has several functions going on at all times. In this way, charms and hexes are the easiest things that nearly everyone can do as well as a certain level of transfiguration.

Transforming animate objects into inanimate was the next easiest thing to do since everything dies and becomes inanimate with time. The reverse is very difficult. It requires an exhausting level of concentration, especially since any transfigured object didn't like to be forced to stay in a form that didn't come naturally to it. If you lose focus at all, it won't turn out.

Creating something was something that most could not do. There is a rule of equivalent exchange in the universe. Food being as it was thing to be consumed and broken down for nutrients, was one of the things impossible to manufacture with a wand alone. You could make things appear, if you knew where you taking them from beforehand, but even if you successfully managed to create something that looked like food from nothing, it wouldn't function as food.

It was possible to create food out of inedible materials through alchemy, but the process was arduous. Magic symbols for conducting had to be drawn, all materials once broken down had to have the chemical structure to be remade into the intended object, then an enchantment had to be done while pouring massive amounts magic in. The result would be the molecules breaking down and rearranging itself into the desired product. Any lapse in concentration at all would leave it in its broken down state, forcing you do regather the components. In all, it was simply easier to cook.

Objects that did not require a nutritional factor, were much simpler to create, but still a challenge. The wizard needed a good wand that resonated with their personal flow of magic. The more compatible the wand was, the more intricate an object could be. In order to create something out of nothing, the wand needed to be able to continue pulling on its wizard's magic, even when the wizard was otherwise occupied, in order to keep the object present. If the wizard was to lose the connection, the object would go back in nonbeing. Of course, the object would naturally disappear when the wizard died or no longer had enough strength to keep the connection so once again, it was easier to just make whatever it was you needed.

Creating a living thing entirely with magic was impossible. You could create the illusion of life quite easily, but the creature would be soulless. It could move about and even appear to have a personality like Ariadne's little paper animals, but a soul required a blueprint. Paintings like the moving ones in Hogwarts could hold deep impressions of people or develop consciousness of their own by a heavy feed of magic as long as they held the impression of either their subject or what the artist thought of them, but once destroyed, they were gone forever.

Ariadne found that even potions required that the maker have a certain level of magic. A muggle could mix all of the ingredients the same way as Ariadne, but would only manage a mixture, most probably inconsumable, if not entirely poisonous. The will of the wizard was needed to get the ingredients to meld together. Then the potions couldn't be used on a muggle at all. For all the similarities between wizards and muggles, the physiology needed to break down the potions was where they differed. A simple sleeping draught could mean the death of a muggle.

This subject fascinated Ariadne who would live in Flourish and Blotts or Slug and Jiggers if she was allowed. The sales clerks were starting to be able to recognize her by the end of the summer.