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It was the first of August and three people were donning on their robes as they were getting ready to leave their abode. Their faces were pulled into permanent scowls; they were getting ready to go to Diagon Alley. They weren’t alone in this act, in another home were six people – four boys and two adults, in another home there were two more, one person in another and in another there were another six people.

One thing that majority of these people had in common – they were purebloods.

Suddenly a bright flash interrupted their day as those people were all brought together in a room that none had ever seen before. Gasps and groans echoed through the room as the occupants arriving stabilised themselves realising that they had essentially been kidnapped.

Walburga and her husband Orion, their son Regulus looked around and saw their extended family. Walburga’s brother Crygus and his wife Druella were there with their daughters Narcissa and Bellatrix; however they weren’t alone. Bellatrix’ husband and his brother Rabastan were there as well as Lucius and his father Abraxas who was a good friend of the two elder Black males.

On the other side of the room stood Fleamont and his wife Euphemia, who had her arms around the shoulders of their son James. Standing behind them were James’ three best friends; Sirius Black – the disowned older brother of Regulus, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew.

The last to be recognised was scorned by half of the group and hugged by the other. Muggleborn Lily Evans was notoriously recognisable with her red hair and eyes of green grass during the spring time.

“Lily–Flower!” James yelled out as he ran to the girl.

Said girl groaned as she was twirled around by the athletic male. “Let go of me you arrogant toe–rag!”

Snickers echoed through the chamber, alerting the eighteen occupants to a presence beyond their own. Thirty-six pairs of eyes lifted, fixing upon Barty Crouch Jnr, Evan Rosier, Severus Snape, the Prewett twins and their older sister Molly with her husband Arthur Weasley, Andromeda Black – the disowned sister of Narcissa and Bellatrix – and her partner Ted Tonks, the Woods family – whose heir captained the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, Marlene McKinnon, Frank Longbottom, Alice Fortescue; Amelia Bones, Harold Minchum, and Cornelius Fudge, all abducted from the Ministry, while Horace Slughorn, Pomona Sprout, Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, and Albus Dumbledore had been taken from the school.

A voice, like the grinding of prisoners' chains and a final, ragged exhalation, sent icy tendrils down their spines.

“I have brought you here to witness your future!” The voice rasped. “Magic is fading due to the deeds of some. Lady Magic has commanded my intervention to safeguard all her children, and she bears a message you would be wise to heed – regardless of blood, you are all her progeny, and she is magic itself, so cease this FUCKING BULLSHIT!”

Stunned, each person sank into the plush couches that had materialized within the room – those who had arrived earlier quietly informed the newcomers. Abruptly, a vast, shimmering screen materialized against one wall, and vibrant hues began to seep outward from its center –

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[It is nighttime in Surrey, we see an owl on the street sign "PRIVET DRIVE" and the camera pans to the street with very identical looking brown bricked houses.]

"Why are we looking at Mudblood houses?" Cygnus hissed.

[The owl flies away and an elderly man with crimson robes and a long silvery white beard named Albus Dumbledore walks out of a forest near the street, past a tabby cat standing next to what looks like a shed. He takes out his deluminator and activates it. Dumbledore zaps all the light out of the lampposts. He puts away the device and a cat meows.]

"That looks like Minnie!" Sirius gasped.

[Dumbledore looks down at the cat.]

Dumbledore: I should have known that you would be here... Professor McGonagall.

[The cat silently looks at him, and the camera turns towards a wall. The cat's shadow turns into a woman with a tall hat and emerald robes. There are footsteps and Minerva McGonagall is revealed.]

"Minnie!" The Marauders all cheered.

McGonagall: Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. Are the rumors true, Albus?

Dumbledore: I'm afraid so, Professor. The good, and the bad.

McGonagall: And the girl?

Dumbledore: Hagrid is bringing her.

McGonagall: Do you think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?

Dumbledore: Ah, Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life.

"Just not our secrets!" The Marauders called out laughing.

Those who went to school with the half giant – such as Orion, Abraxas, Fleamont, Euphemia – couldn't help but agree.

[There is a motor sound, and the two professors look up to see a flying motorcycle coming down from the air. It skids on the street and halts.]

"I want it!" Sirius cried out.

He turned to Remus who had a terrified look on his face

"Hell no!"

Sirius then turned to James who nodded and smirked.

The boy laughed with glee, not realising that on the opposite side of the room Barty, Evan and Rabastan were begging their friends the same.

[A large man with shoulder length black hair and beard named Rubeus Hagrid takes off his goggles.]

Hagrid: Professor Dumbledore, Sir. Professor McGonagall.

Dumbledore: No problems, I trust, Hagrid?

Hagrid: No, sir. Little lady fell asleep just as we were flying over Bristol. Heh. Try not to wake her or take her teddies. There you go.

"Aww she's so cute," Bella exclaimed, her sisters nodding with her.

Molly and Lily were smiling softly at the sight of a baby. Molly had two children of her own by this point, but Lily was ready to be a mother the moment she leaves school.

[Hagrid hands a baby wrapped in a bundle with Stag, Dog, Wolf and Doe stuffies over to Dumbledore.]

"Hey they look like us!" James whispered to his friends, confused on who the Doe represented.

"Must be a Marauder Heir then." Sirius agreed.

McGonagall: Albus, do you really think it's safe, leaving her with these people? I've watched them all day. They're the worst sort of Muggles imaginable. They really are... 

Dumbledore: The only family she has.

[They stop outside a house which is 4 Privet Drive.]

McGonagall: This girl will be famous. There won't be a child in our world who doesn't know her name.

"Famous for what though?" Evan asked looking at his fellow Slytherins.

Regulus and Barty shrugged their shoulders while the Lestrange brothers stared at the baby, they had to admit she was beautiful.

Dumbledore: Exactly. She's better off growing up away from all that. Until she is ready.

[Dumbledore places the baby on the ground slowly. Hagrid sniffles, he is sobbing a little. He clears his throat.]

Dumbledore: There, there, Hagrid. It's not really goodbye, after all.

[Hagrid nods. Dumbledore takes a letter and places it on the baby, who is now at the foot of the door.]

Molly, Euphemia, Druella and surprising even Walburga all raged at the headmaster.

"YOU LEFT A CHILD ON A DOORSTEP ON THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT?"

Lily, Amelia and the Black sisters were all disgusted by the man's actions.

"Now I am sure I took precautions." The old man patted his beard with a calculating gleam in his eyes.

Dumbledore: Good luck... Caitria Potter.

"POTTER?"

Fleamont snarled at the man, "you left a daughter of my bloodline there like that?"

Dumbledore held up his hands, "Old friend must I remind you that this is in the future?"

Many grumbled, but Moody kept his magical eye on the Headmaster, suspicion bubbling in his gut.

[The baby has a lightning–bolt shaped scar on her forehead.]

"THAT'S A CURSED SCAR!" Abraxas yelled out, horror written all over his face.

He wasn't the only one, all those from the Blitz era were horrified and those from 1977 that understood cursed magic were extremely pale.

[The camera slowly zooms towards the scar which glows brightly and it immediately flashes, transitioning to a stormy cloud sky. The film's title in metallic gold zooms out around the camera, and lightning flashes to brighten it up. Then, the lightning flashes engulf the screen, transitioning it to the present time.]

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[The scar’s glow immediately dies down, and the camera pans to see Caitria who is now ten years old, still sleeping. Then, the light turns on outside her bedroom cupboard under the stairs]

“A Member of the Ancient and Noble house of Potter forced to sleep in a cupboard?” James bellowed out in horror.

Petunia: Up! Get up! [She knocks on her closet door repeatedly] Now! [Smacks door of closet and walks into the living room]

Both Lily Evans and Severus Snape gasped in horror. It may be a decade in the future but they’d recognize Lily’s hateful and jealous sister from a mile away.

[Caitria wakes up, turns on her bedroom light and puts on her beloved baby blanket that she had painstakingly made into a scarf, the tears and fading colours indicated that it was partly damaged. A large, tubby boy, Dudley Dursley, suddenly comes running down the stairs above the closet. He stops half–way down and goes back, jumping on the staircase.]

“Holy shit! It’s a hippo!” Roldolphus yelped.

Dudley: Wake up, cousin! We’re going to the zoo!

[Caitria looks up to the join works of the stairs with small amounts of dusts rising. Dudley laughs, comes down the stairs, and runs for the kitchen. Caitria tries to come out of the closet but is pushed back in by Dudley. Petunia is in the kitchen, where Dudley has gone.]

Petunia: Oh, here he comes, the birthday boy!

“Well if the kid is a hippo then it’s mother must be a giraffe.” Rabastan snorted.

Vernon: Happy birthday, son.

“The father is definitely a walrus!” Orion snarked.

[Petunia and Dudley giggle together. Caitria comes into the kitchen, dressed in outgrown clothes.]

Petunia: [to Caitria, unpleasantly] Why don’t you just cook the breakfast, and try not to burn anything.

Caitria: Yes, Aunt Petunia.

“What the fuck? She isn’t a fucking house elf!” Regulus growled.

Dumbledore coughed and stared at the boy in disapproval. “Language.”

“Fucking English and quit glaring at my brother!” Sirius glared. 

[Caitria then gets to work on cooking the bacon]

Petunia: I want everything to be perfect for my Dudley’s special day.

Vernon: [to Caitria, who is taking her time placing the bacon on the plates] Hurry up! Bring my coffee, girl!

“Filthy Muggles,” Abraxas snapped, “if only he was here.” He whispered to Orion.

Caitria: Yes, Uncle Vernon.

[Petunia leads Dudley over to the family room, where there are a vast amount of presents. Dudley stares.]

Petunia: Aren’t they wonderful, darling?

Dudley: How many are there?

Vernon: Thirty–six. Counted ‘em myself.

“What they had enough money to buy that kid whatever he wants, but can’t afford to give her decent clothes?” Bella hissed to her sisters, her eyes flashing with fury.

Dudley: Thirty–six? But last year... last year I had thirty–seven!

Vernon: Err, yes, well, some of them are quite a bit bigger than last year.

Dudley: I don’t care how big they are!

Petunia: [calming him down] Oh, now, now, now. This is what we’re going to do, is that when we go out, we’re going to buy you two new presents! How’s that, pumpkin?

[Outside the house morning. The happy family is heading to the car. Echoing from the book, Caitria was meant to be staying with her babysitter Mrs. Figg. While Dudley’s parents took him and a friend – from Dudley’s school – out for the day – on his birthday – either to amusement parks, hamburger restaurants for lunch or dinner, or the movies, Caitria was meant to be staying with Mrs. Figg. Mrs. Figg was a mean old lady who lived two streets away. But since she broke her leg, the Dursleys were forced to take Caitria to the zoo. That is because there was no one else to replace Mrs. Figg. Not even Aunt Marge – Uncle Vernon’s sister – nor Aunt Petunia’s friend Yvonne. Yvonne – Aunt Petunia’s friend – was on vacation in Majorca. In the meantime, the viewers now see the house morning. And the family is heading to the car.]

Petunia: This will be a lovely day at the zoo. I’m really looking forward to it.

[Caitria then goes to go in the car, but Vernon stops her, pointing his keys at her.]

Vernon: I’m warning you now, girl! Any funny business, any at all, and you are not going to have any meals for a week! Get in!

“That’s abuse!” Sirius shouted, thinking that it was no different to what he suffered.

Severus was thinking the same. The girl was obviously related to James some how due to the name but she looked like Lily; and to think anyone related to that girl being treated the same way his father had treated him – well it made the Slytherin boy ill.

[At the London Zoo, the Dursley family is in the reptile house. After lunch – at the zoo restaurant – Caitria and the Dursleys went to the reptile house to see the reptiles. Caitria looks at a large Boa constrictor.]

Dudley: Make it move.

[Vernon taps the glass of the cage.]

Vernon: Move!

[Dudley taps the glass much harder, and Vernon nervously winces.]

Dudley: MOVE!

Caitria: He’s asleep!

Dudley: He’s boring.

[Dudley and his parents head over to another enclosure. Caitria is left with the snake.]

Caitria: Sorry about him. He doesn’t understand what it’s like, lying there day after day, having people press their ugly faces in on you.

[The snake looks up and blinks.]

“Is she talking Parseltongue?” Amelia questioned.

Molly gasped, holding her chest. The girl must be evil then.

Caitria: Can you... hear me?

[The snake nods]

Caitria: It’s just... I’ve never talked to a snake before. Do you... I mean... do you talk to people often? 

[The snake shakes its head] 

Caitria: You’re from Burma, aren’t you? Was it nice there? Do you miss your family? [The snake turns its head in the direction of a sign which says, Bred in Captivity] I see. That’s me as well. I never knew my parents, either.

“Merlin, she is comparing herself to it!” Arthur was flabbergasted.

[The now awake snake has attracted Dudley’s attention. He comes over to the glass, knocking Caitria to the floor.]

Dudley: Mummy, dad, come here! You won’t believe what this snake is doing!

[Dudley puts his hands on the glass wall. With his back turned, Caitria glares at him. Suddenly, the glass disappears, causing Dudley to wretch forward, losing his balance.]

Dudley: Whoa! Ahh! Ahh!!

[Dudley falls into the snake enclosure, sputtering in a pool of water. Caitria snickers at what she saw. The snake gets out of the exhibit, stopping in front of Caitria.]

Snake: Thanksss.

Caitria: Anytime.

“Gotta say, he’s a polite snake!”

Rabastan snickered at his brother’s statement.

[The snake slivers off to the exit.]

Man: SNAKE!

[There is a lot of people screaming throughout the reptile house as the snake heads for freedom. Dudley gets up to get out, but the glass is now back over the enclosure. Seeing that he is now trapped in the snake exhibit, he pounds the glass in panic.]

Dudley: Mum, mummy!

Petunia: [notices him in the exhibit and screams]

Dudley: Mum, help! Help me!

Petunia: My darling boy! How did you get in there?! How did you get in there!? Is there a snake?

[Caitria grins and snickers, Vernon notices this and glares down at her. Caitria’s grin disappears, knowing that she is in trouble with Vernon.]

“He better not have done anything to her!” Lily shouted. She already suspected that she married James in the future and sweet Caitria was their daughter. Why else would Dumbledore – she was going to kill that old goat – send the girl to her sister’s?

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“IT’S TIME FOR THE LETTER!” Barty, Bella, Rabastan, Roldolphus, Regulus, James, Sirius, Remus and Fleamont all screamed.

[Cut back to the Dursley family’s house. Aunt Petunia and a bundled up Dudley come in. Dudley is crying – because he is cold and wet – and wrapped up in a towel.]

Petunia: [assuring a distressed Dudley] It’s all right, sweetheart. Let’s get you out of those terrible clothes.

[They walk in the living room. Caitria and Vernon enter. Vernon slams the door and shoves the girl against a wall. Then he grabs her by the throat, squeezing not even blinking as she struggles to breathe.]

“Let her go!”

“You’re hurting her!”

“Caitria is just a child!”

“Unhand her!” 

“How would you like it if we done that to you!”

Caitria: Ow! [She gasps turning more pale by the second.]

Vernon: WHAT HAPPENED?

Caitria: I swear, I don’t know! [Vernon snarls] One minute, the glass was there and then it was gone! It was like magic!

[Vernon scoffs at this, shoves Caitria in the cupboard under the stairs grinning when her head connects with a loud thump and slams the door]

“That bastard!” Fleamont growled as hue magic enveloped the room.

Vernon: There’s no such thing as magic!

“What are we then?” Regulus smirked.

[He blackens out the vent on the door and Caitria groans as she huddled on the mattress, holding a thin shirt to the back of her skull to stop the bleeding.]

“I’ll kill him!” Lily raged.

“Dude, I think you married Evans, she and Snape recognised the Giraffe!” Remus said to James.

[Later, an owl flies into view and lands itself on a TV aerial on one of the houses’ roof. The camera slowly pans up to reveal Dudley in his smartest school uniform, posing and smiling grandly.]

“Oh Merlin! I think I’m blind!” Barty shouted as he covered his eyes, trying not to laugh.

“Did they hire Dumbledore to create their uniform?” Sirius muttered, with a look of utter revulsion.

That seemed to draw the line for the others as they all burst into another round of laughter.

Petunia: Awww, smile. [She takes a photograph of him. She gasps in joy.] Vernon, just look at him. I can’t believe it. In just a week you’ll be off to Smeltings.

Vernon: Caveat Smeltona. Proudest moment of my life.

Caitria: Will I have to wear that, too?

[They draw their attention to Caitria]

Petunia: What, you? Go to Smeltings?

[Caitria nods, questionably]

Vernon: Ha!

[They laugh in amusement]

Petunia: Oh, don’t be so stupid, you’re going to the state school where you belong.

“No, she’ll be going to Hogwarts!” Remus cheered.

Petunia: [as she goes to the kitchen and fishes out a grey shirt in a boiler.] And this is what you’re gonna be wearing when I’ve finished dyeing it.

Caitria: But that’s Dudley’s old uniform. It’ll fit me like bits of old Elephant skin.

Petunia: It’ll fit you well enough. Go get the post. [Caitria then heads to the hallway] Go!

[Caitria leaves the living room area into the hallway and picks up some letters, one of which had her name on it with her address of where she slept. Uncle Vernon and Dudley sit at the table while Aunt Petunia is busy dying Caitria’s clothes. Caitria walks in with the mail and hands it to Uncle Vernon, then walks to her seat with her letter.]

Vernon: [after reading a postcard] Oh, Marge is ill! Ate a funny whelk.

[Dudley suddenly notices Caitria’s letter and runs to grab it from her and give it to his father.]

Dudley: Dad! Look! Caitria’s got a letter!

Caitria: Hey, give it back! It’s mine!

Vernon: Yours? Who’d be writing to you?

“Us!”

[The family gathers to look at the address. There is a broken seal on the letter. The family looks up and Caitria gulps. Much later, another owl flies by with a letter and drops it off. Inside, Vernon grabs a handful of letters and rips them up. In the closet, Caitria hears a whirring noise. She looks out at Vernon drilling wood over the letterbox opening.]

Vernon: No more mail through this letterbox.

[Caitria quietly closes the cupboard door.]

[The next day, Vernon and Petunia are outside the door. Vernon is about to head off to work. Petunia kisses his cheek.]

“I need to bleach my eyes!”

Petunia: Have a lovely day at the office, dear.

[She stops, looks and sees a bunch of owls.]

Vernon: Shoo! Go on!

[She notices something and pats Vernon on the shoulder to get his attention, and what they see is more letters addressed to Caitria.]

“Damn, Minnie’s persistent!” Remus and Peter looked on in amazement.

[Later, Petunia is cracking a egg into a bowl, and what instead comes out is a folded–up letter. She cracks another one, but another letter comes out as well. She then cracks yet another one, but the same happens again. She stares at the letter, and then she hears the owls screeching. She draws her attention to the outside of the window, and what she sees is four owls sitting on some garden chairs. Petunia then screams and runs off.]

“BRILLIANT”

Almost everyone laughed, even the Pure Bloods who needed to remove the poles from up their asses. 

Not Dumbledore though, his pole was far too big, along with Molly’s.

[Much later, Vernon is tossing letters into the fireplace. Caitria comes around the corner. Vernon grins evilly and tosses more in.]

“Evil prat!” Evan huffed with Severus humming in agreement.

[The scene fades to the next day, the family is sitting around, Caitria is serving cookies.]

Vernon: Fine day Sunday. In my opinion, best day of the week. Why is that, Dudley?

Caitria: [when Dudley shrugs and didn’t answer, as Caitria hands a cookie to Vernon] Because there’s no post on Sunday?

Vernon: Ah, right you are, Caitria. No post on Sunday. Ha! No blasted letters today. No, sir. Not one single bloody letter, not one. [Caitria sees a shadow outside the window. Outside, millions of owls are perched.] No, sir, not one blasted, miserable –

[As Vernon was talking, a letter shoots out of the fireplace and zips across Vernon’s face, cutting him off. There is a rumbling and then millions of letters come shooting out of the fireplace. The family shrieks in horror as Caitria watches in amazement.]

Dudley: AHH! Make it stop! Please make it stop! [He jumps on Petunia’s lap as she and Vernon continue screaming] What is it? Please tell me what’s happening!

[Caitria jumps onto the coffee table to grab a letter. She gets one and starts to run away. Vernon jumps up as well.]

“Whelp she has your brains,” Sirius snickered at James’ affronted expression.

“Hey!”

Vernon: Go away! Ahh! Give me that! Give me that letter!

[He chases Caitria and grabs her before Caitria gets into her closet.]

Caitria: Get off! Ahh!

[Vernon restrains Caitria as several letters begin to shoot everywhere around the house.]

Vernon: Ahh!

Caitria: They’re my letters! Let go of me!

[The wood plank nailed in front of the letterbox finally breaks from the excess pressure of the letters shooting through the letter.]

Vernon: That’s it! We’re going away! Far away! Where they can’t find us!

Dudley: Daddy’s gone mad, hasn’t he?

“He was already mad!” Barty huffed.

[Petunia watches with a horrified look on her face, knowing that Dudley may be right.]

Chapter Text

[That stormy night, a tall house, on a rock island somewhere out at sea. The Dursleys, including Caitria have moved there, due to the chaos with the letters. The family is sleeping, with Caitria on the cold, dirt floor and Dudley sleeping on a sofa. Caitria has drawn a birthday cake which reads, Happy Birthday Caitria.]

“That’s just…” Barty couldn’t even finish and just let out a sigh. 

[Caitria looks at Dudley’s watch, which beeps twelve o’clock.]

Caitria: [to herself] Make a wish, Caitria. [She blows the “candles” on the drawn birthday cake]

The tears were fighting a war with everyone in the room, and they were winning.

[Suddenly, the door thumps, in sync with the thunder flashing. Caitria jumps. The door thumps again and Dudley and Caitria jump up and back away. Caitria hides behind a wall, and Dudley cowers on a windowsill. Petunia and Vernon appear, with Vernon holding a double barrel gun.]

“IS HE INSANE? WHY WOULD YOU HAVE A GUN NEAR CHILDREN!!?” Remus and Lily both yelled.

“What’s a gun?” Lucius whispered to Severus, who in turn let out a long sigh while pinching the bridge of his nose before explaining it to his friends.

Remus and Lily also had to explain it to James and Sirius. 

All the Pure Bloods paled; they never knew how advanced the muggle world had become as those who were aware of such advancements continued on. They really needed to update the muggle studies curriculum. Amelia Bones added that mentally too her list of things to talk to the board about.

Vernon: Who’s there? Ahh!

[The door bangs again and then falls down, and a giant man appears. As he comes into the clear lighting, the giant man himself reveals to be Rubeus Hagrid.]

Hagrid: Sorry about that. [He puts the door back up]

Vernon: [aiming his gun at him] I demand that you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering!

[As Petunia quietly gasps in fear, Hagrid grabs the gun and bends it upwards.]

Hagrid: Dry up, Dursley, you great prune. [The gun fires upwards, blasting a hole in the ceiling, causing the two to shriek in fear. Hagrid notices Dudley.] Mind, I haven’t seen you since you was a baby, but I was sure yer were a girl, Caitria.

Dudley: I–I–I’m not Caitria.

[Caitria reveals herself]

Caitria: I–I am.

Hagrid: Well, of course you are! Got somethin’ for yeh. ‘Fraid I might have sat on it at some point, but I imagine it’ll taste fine just the same. Ahh.

[Hagrid hands Caitria the cake]

Hagrid: Baked it myself, words and all. Heh.

[Caitria opens cake, which reads “Happee Birthdae Caitria” in green frosting.]

Caitria: Thank you!

Hagrid: It’s not every day that yer young lady turns eleven, now is it? Aye?

[Hagrid sits down on the sofa, takes out an umbrella, and points it at the empty fire. Two sparks fly out of the umbrella and start a fire. The Dursley family gasps.]

Caitria: [puts cake down] Excuse me, who are you?

Hagrid: Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. O’ course, yeh’ll know all about Hogwarts.

Caitria: Sorry, no.

Hagrid: No? Blimey, Caitria, didn’t you ever wonder where yer mum and dad learned it all?

Caitria: Learnt what?

Hagrid: Yer a witch, Caitria.

[Caitria looks confused and hurt, as calling someone a witch was a rather mean insult]

Caitria: Sorry [she replies as she slowly begins to shrink into herself.] I–I’m a what?

“Why is she apologizing?” Walburga inquired, completely confused.

Hagrid: A witch. And a thumping good one, I’d wager, once yer trained up little.

Caitria: No, you’ve made a mistake. I mean, I can’t be... a–a witch. I mean, I’m just... Caitria. Just Caitria.

“Awww, ‘just Caitria’.” Fabian cooed.

Hagrid: Well, Just Caitria. Did you ever make anything happen? Anything you couldn’t explain when you were angry or scared? 

Caitria: [softens her expression] Ah.

[Dudley whimpers. Hagrid hands Caitria the same letter that has been sent the past while. Caitria opens it and she began to read.]

Caitria: “Dear, Ms. Potter. We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

Vernon: [to Hagrid] She will not be going, I tell you! We swore when we took her in, we’d put a stop to all this rubbish!

Caitria: You knew? You knew all along and you never told me?

Petunia: Of course we knew. How could you not be? My perfect sister being who she was. Oh, my mother and father were so proud the day she got her letter. “We have a witch in the family. Isn’t it wonderful?” I was the only one to see her for what she was. A freak! And then she met that Potter. And then she had you, and I knew you would be the same. Just as strange, just as... abnormal. And then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up! And we got landed with you.

Sorrowful tears streamed down Lily’s face as she sobbed uncontrollably over her sister’s hatred for her, her shoulders trembling with the force of her emotions. A tightening of her throat and a short intake of breath, she mumbled incoherent things through her hands and choked on her sobs.

Severus glared at the screen rage pulsing through his veins. How dare Petunia speak about Lily that way, how dare that horse–woman treat her daughter the way she had. He swallowed down his frustration, knowing that there wasn’t anything he could do about Petunia right now.

Caitria: [to Petunia, angrily] Blown up? You told me my parents died in a car crash!

Hagrid: A car crash? A car crash killed Lily and James Potter?

Caitria: [She is mumbling the names of her parents since it’s the first time hearing them]

“Oh Bambi.” James cried.

“BLOWN UP!” Barty and Bellatrix both cried in outrage.

“THAT’S HOW SHE FINDS OUT!” Sirius bellowed.

“I WILL KILL THEM. LET ME GO JAMES!” Lily screamed, legs kicking.

Petunia: We had to say something.

Hagrid: It’s an outrage! It’s a scandal!

[As the Dursleys argue with Hagrid, no one, including Caitria, is noticing Dudley taking Caitria’s cake away]

Vernon: She’ll not be going!

Hagrid: Oh–ho–ho, and I suppose a great muggle like yerself’s goin’ to stop her, are yeh?

Caitria: Muggle?

Hagrid: [to Caitria, calmly] Non–magic folk. 

Hagrid: [he immediately draws his attention back to Vernon and Petunia in anger] This girl’s had her name down ever since she were born! 

Everyone was in awe, how strong is this girl to have a magic all the way back then, was the collective thought to everyone that knew how the acceptance happened.

“Bloody hell!” The Blacks were shocked.

“Ever since she was born?” Arthur questioned stunned.

“But your name only goes down once you do your first bit of accidental magic…” Remus whispered.

Sirius stared at James as if he had never really seen him before, “Just what in the hell have you created Prongs? The new Merlin?”

“I wonder what it was? Her first bout of accidental magic.” Orion questioned, intrigued.

“She saved her mother during the birth, there were complications and Caitria used her magic to sustain Lily long enough for her own magic to heal enough to deliver Caitra.”

That eerie voice from before spoke. Everyone looked around to see where it was coming from but they couldn’t see anything. Accepting that whoever spoke was unseeable by them, they all concentrated on the words spoken. This caused everyone at James once again.

“Bloody hell! You really did create the new Merlin!” The Minister remarked, amazed.

[As Hagrid was talking, Dudley was munching on Caitria’s cake.] 

Hagrid: She’s going to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world, and she’ll be under the finest headmaster that Hogwarts has ever seen: Albus Dumbledore.

[Caitria frowns upon hearing Dumbledore’s name – she felt as if he wasn’t someone to be trusted.]

Dumbledore glared at the screen. How dare that brat not worship the ground he walked on? He was the Leader of the Light, Defeater of Gellert Grindelwald.

Vernon: I will not pay to have some crackpot old fool teach her magic tricks!

[Hagrid whips out his umbrella and points it at Vernon, threateningly.]

Hagrid: NEVER. INSULT. ALBUS DUMBLEDORE. IN FRONT OF ME.

[Hagrid finally sees Dudley eating Caitria’s cake and aims his umbrella at his buttock. He fires a magic spark at it, causing a pig’s tail to grow.]

Everyone burst into laughter and cheers. The Marauders all got to their feet and began applauding Hagrid. 

Fleamont managed to calm down enough to say, “I taught him that! I can’t believe he remembered it!” He managed to splutter out before breaking into laughter again.

Dudley: Ahh!

[The Dursleys shriek in both fright and horror as they run off out of sight. Caitria laughs at this, so does Hagrid.]

A new round of laughter broke out. Even Walburga was laughing so hard, her face started to turn red. It took them even longer to settle themselves down.

Hagrid: Oh, um, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone at Hogwarts about that. Strictly speaking, I’m not allowed to do magic.

Caitria: [Nods] Okay.

Hagrid: [checks his pocket–watch] Ooh, we’re a bit behind schedule. Bes’ be off. [He goes off to the door and pulls it down again before stepping out. He turns to Caitria] Unless you’d rather stay, of course. Hmm?

[He walks out. Caitria grins, looks back at the direction where the Dursleys are gone, and grins again, before grabbing her jacket and joins Hagrid on their journey to London.]

Chapter Text

[The next day, in the streets of London.]

[Caitria and Hagrid are in the underground tube.]

Caitria: [reading the list] First year students will require: three sets of work robes, one wand. [She turns to Hagrid]

Hagrid: Essential bit of equipment, Caitria.

Caitria: One pair of dragon–hide gloves. [She turns to Hagrid again] Hagrid, do they mean for a real dragon?

Hagrid: Well, they don’t mean a penguin, do they? Heh. Crikey, I’d love a dragon.

Caitria: You’d like a dragon?

“Another creature Hagrid?” The Slytherins from the Blitz era groaned as a man who was hidden from all shook his head in exasperation.

Hagrid: Vastly misunderstood beasts, Caitria. Vastly misunderstood. [He suddenly eyes a woman and then he nods. The woman returns to reading her paper.]

[The next scene, Hagrid and Caitria are walking down the streets.]

Caitria: All students must be equipped with... one standard size two pewter cauldron and may bring, if they desire, either an owl, a cat, or a toad. Could we find all this in London?

“Yes, if you know where to go.” Andromeda chimed in.

Hagrid: If you know where to go.

[They walk towards a corner store and as they get closer, the sign above it has “The Leaky Cauldron” magically appearing. They enter the Leaky Cauldron. There was music and several patrons that are speaking to each other.]

Tom: Ah, Hagrid! The usual, I presume?

Hagrid: No thanks, Tom. I’m on official Hogwarts business today. Just helpin’ young Caitria here buy her school supplies.

Tom: Bless my soul. It’s Caitria Potter!

[The pub immediately goes silent and everyone notices. A man comes up and shakes Caitria’s hand.]

Man: Welcome back, Ms. Potter. Welcome back.

[A witch comes up and shakes Caitria’s hand, as well.]

Witch: Doris Crockford, Ms. Potter. I can’t believe I’m meeting you at last.

[A man in robes with a turban on his head appears. It is Professor Quirrell.]

Quirrell: Caitria P–potter. C–can’t tell you how p–pleased I am to meet you.

Hagrid: Hello, Professor. I didn’t see you there. Caitria, this is Professor Quirrell. He’ll be yer Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts.

“That’s the DADA Professor?” Orion was shocked.

“Pathetic!” Abraxas narrowed his eyes at the screen.

Caitria: Oh, nice to meet you. [Puts out her hand, offering a handshake with Quirrell. But he looks at Caitria’s head and hesitatingly refuses]

Quirrell: F–fearfully f–fascinating subject. N–not that you need it, e–eh, Potter? Heheh.

“He’s suss, very suss.” Arthur murmured to his wife who had been frowning at the man. Mind you it was a pleasant change to her glaring at Caitria which she had been doing ever since the zoo.

Hagrid: Yes, well, mus’ be goin’ now. Lots to buy. Heh–heh–heh.

Caitria: Goodbye.

[The two leave into a back room winery in front of a brick wall.]

Hagrid: See, Caitria? You’re famous!

Caitria: But why am I famous, Hagrid? All those people back there, how is it they know who I am?

Hagrid: I’m not sure I’m exactly the right person to tell you that, Caitria. [Taps the brick wall clockwise with his umbrella. The blocks then magically shift and open up to reveal a hidden, busy street called Diagon Alley.] Welcome, Caitria, to Diagon Alley.

[Caitria grins broadly as they step into the street and walk down it. An owl screeches.]

Hagrid: Here’s where yeh’ll get yer quills and yer ink, and over there all yer bits and bobs fer doing yer wizardry.

[Caitria is amazed as they pass by shops and owls and bats. The camera pans on a broom store, where a group of boys are crowded around a shiny broom.]

Girl: It’s a world class racing broom.

Boy one: Wow! Look at it! The new Nimbus 2000!

Boy two: It’s the fastest model yet. [The camera pans to see the broom’s model name on the handle]

All the Quidditch players were drooling and hoped that they too could get their hands on it. 

“I want one. No. I need one.” Regulus and all players practically drooled.

“Its not even made yet!” Euphemia reminded her son and his friends before huffing when she realized her husband was a goner for it as well.

Chapter Text

[Caitria and Hagrid continue walking down Diagon Alley]

Caitria: But, Hagrid, how am I to pay for all this? I haven’t any money.

Hagrid: Well, there’s yer money, Caitria. [he points to a tall, white, marble building, Gringotts Bank] Gringotts, the Wizard Bank. T’ain’t no safer place, not one. ‘Cept perhaps Hogwarts.

[Looking at the guards outside the bank, Caitria bows causing them to look at her with shock.]

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a goblin shocked before.” Fleamont stated.

“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone bow to a goblin before.” Orion looked over to his cousin who shock his head.

“Neither, not since our days in school, and it was only him.”

[Inside the bank, they walk down the shiny aisle, passing tiny creatures working at their desks.]

Caitria: Uh, Hagrid, what exactly are these things?

Hagrid: They’re goblins, Caitria. Clever as they come goblins but not the most friendly of beasts. Bes’ stay close. [Caitria sticks to him. Hagrid clears his throat as they approach a counter with a goblin, wearing spectacles and a waistcoat, in it.] Ms. Caitria Potter wishes to make a withdrawal.

[The goblin looks up.]

Goblin: And does Ms. Caitria Potter have her key?

Hagrid: Oh, wait a minute. Got it here somewhere. Ha! There’s the little devil. [Whispers] Oh, and there’s something else as well. [Takes out a letter wrapped in a string.] Professor Dumbledore gave me this. [Hagrid hands the Goblin the letter.] It’s about You–Know–What in vault You–Know–Which.

Caitria: Hagrid why do you have my key? I’m guessing its like a credit card in the muggle world. No one but the owner is allowed it.

Hagrid: [he looks confused and awkward] Dumbledore has had it since your parents died

Fleamont and James both glared at Dumbledore.

“Well you shouldn’t have it. How dare you!”

Dumbledore was flustered, “now now, I was probably just keeping it safe for the girl.”

Caitria: It's not proper, not at all for someone I’ve never met and is just my Headmaster. [she glares frowning before turning to the Goblin] Excuse me, but would it be possible for me to destroy all copies and have a new one made and given to me today?

Dumbledore glared at the screen as if he could light her on fire. Alastor and Amelia were both watching him as he clenched his hands into white knuckled fists.

‘How dare she? Who the fuck does this bitch think she is to insult me, the great Dumbledore. Knowing me, I sent Hagrid to get her on my side, but by the looks it was already backfiring on me.’

“Rude child!” Molly growled. ‘How dare you disrespect the Headmaster!’

“You better hope that all you’ve done is hold that key for her Albus. I swear on Lady Magic and Death themselves if you have stolen from my daughter, I will end you.” James yelled at the man.

“Detention. I am still your Headmaster Mr. Potter!”

“You are not mine though,” Fleamont sneered at the man, “If you have done anything to my granddaughter and son, as well as our vaults I will enter a Blood Feud with you and drag your name through the mud till there is nothing left of you to remember.”

Goblin: [nods smirking at the witch] Very well.

[Both the witch and Goblin ignored Hagrid’s incredulous expression and nervous behaviour. The half giant looks like he is torn between ripping Caitria out of the bank and throttling her one; and raging at someone who isn’t there – Dumbledore]

[Later, they race down the depth caverns in a cart–like structure. The cart stops, and a goblin, called Griphook, clambers out.]

Griphook: Vault 687. Lamp, please. [Hagrid hands him the lamp and he walks to the vault] Key, please.

[Caitria who had ripped her key from Hagrid earlier, hands him the key and Griphook unlocks the vault. The room is filled nearly top to bottom with coins. Caitria is amazed.]

“That’s just her Trust Fund by the looks of it,” Euphemia smiled.

Hagrid: Didn’t think yer mum and dad will leave you with nothing now, did yeh?

[They continue on through the cavern.]

Griphook: Vault 713.

Caitria: What’s in there, Hagrid?

Hagrid: Can’t tell yeh, Caitria. It’s Hogwarts business. Very secret.

Griphook: Stand back. [Slides finger down the door. The vault opens to reveal a small white stone package. Hagrid enters the vault and scoops it up. The eerie light it was shining with disappears.]

Hagrid: Bes’ not to mention this to anyone, Caitria.

[Caitria nods in agreement]

“She's going to tell someone. Potters are too inquisitive for their own good.” Evan commented earning laughter from his friends and a mock–friend from James and his father.

“Do you think she got her keys sorted out?” Regulus asked his father who looked on with a slight sneer.

“Hopefully, that was borderline illegal. Let’s hope for the Headmaster’s sake, he didn’t touch anything, then it would be illegal.” Walburga said for her husband who had turned his sneer to Dumbledore.

[They leave the bank with a gold full of coins, a mysterious package and Caitria’s vault key on a chain around her neck that had an unusual design on it. It was of a stag, wolf, dog, doe and a baby fawn – all made out of gold with emerald gems for the eyes of the doe and fawn, topaz for the wolf, moonstone for the dog and and jasper for the stag. The necklace was the only thing Caitria had of her parents, besides her once baby blanket now scarf.]

Walburga sighed in relief, an action that was alien–like for the woman. “Good she has her key.”

Many had similar reactions, the Blacks, Arthur Weasley, the Prewett brother, Potters and majority of the Pure Bloods. Molly, Dumbledore and his blind followers all scowled at the screen.

Chapter Text

[At King’s Cross Station, up on a crossing bridge, Caitria, with her cart of her baggage, equipment and Hedwig, walks beside Hagrid. A couple look at Hagrid, suspiciously.]

Hagrid: What’re you looking at? [He then checks watch] Blimey, is that the time? Sorry, Caitria, I’m gonna have to leave you. Dumbledore will be wanting his, uh... well, he’ll be wanting to see me. Now, uh, your train leaves in ten minutes. Here’s your ticket. [He hands her the train ticket] Stick to it, Caitria, that’s very important. Stick to your ticket.

[Caitria looks at her ticket.]

Caitria: “Platform 9¾?” But, Hagrid, there must be a mistake. This says Platform 9¾. There’s no such thing, is there? [Caitria looks up, but we now see that Hagrid has vanished and Caitria all alone with her cart.]

“Don’t just leave her!”

“Bloody hell!”

“Useless half breed!”

“What the heck?”

[Caitria is walking down a lane between trains. A man rushes by.]

Man: Sorry.

[Caitria sees a guard.]

Caitria: Excuse me, excuse me.

“Oh dear Merlin, please don’t.” Remus groaned.

Guard: Right on your left, madam.

Caitria: Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me what platform the train that leaves at eleven is on?

“Thank Merlin she has Lily’s brains.” Euphemia sighed, having heard of the girl’s smart from her son.

“MOM!”

Guard: [confused] Eleven? I don’t believe there is one

Caitria: Oh sorry, I must have the wrong time, thank you anyways

[Caitria then notices a woman, daughter, and four boys walk by, pushing carts.]

Mrs. Weasley: It’s the same year after year. Always packed with Muggles, of course.

“Got it on didn’t you Molly?” Fabian waggled his brows at his sister and Arthur.

“Looks like enough for a Quidditch team!” Gideon laughed.

Meanwhile Amelia is furiously dotting down notes. ‘Obvious breakage of the Statue of Secrecy. With that many children Mrs Weasley would know not to mention such a word.’

Caitria: Muggles?

Mrs. Weasley: Come on. Platform 9¾ this way! All right, Percy, you first.

[A tall boy with red hair, called Percy, comes forward and runs towards a brick wall. Amazingly, he disappears right into it. Caitria is amazed.]

Mrs. Weasley: Fred, you next.

George: He’s not Fred, I am!

Fred: Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother.

Mrs. Weasley: Oh, I’m sorry, George.

[Fred moves towards the wall]

Fred: I’m only joking. I am Fred. [He runs through the wall and is followed by his twin brother. Caitria shakes her head in disbelief.]

“We love them!” Fabian and Gideon yelled and cheered.

Caitria: Excuse me! C–could you tell me how to...

Mrs. Weasley: How to get on the platform? Yes, not to worry, dear. It’s Ron’s first time to Hogwarts as well. [camera pans to a red haired boy, called Ron, who smiles] Now, all you’ve got to do is walk straight at the wall between platforms nine and ten. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous.

Ginny: Good luck.

[Caitria takes a breath and runs at the wall. She shuts her eyes and emerges on the other side a magnificent station at Platform 9¾ with a red steam locomotive, which is the Hogwarts Express, and bundles of people. Caitria grins as the engine’s whistle blows.]

Everyone grinned at the beautiful sight. No matter the age, nothing bested seeing the Hogwarts Express for the first time.

Chapter Text

[Later on, the Hogwarts Express is travelling through the countryside. Caitria is in sitting alone in a train compartment, and Ron appears in the doorway.]

Ron: Excuse me, do you mind? Everywhere else is full.

Caitria: Not at all.

Ron: [sits across from Caitria] I’m Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley.

Caitria: I’m Caitria. Caitria Potter.

[Ron goes agape.]

Ron: So–so it’s true! I mean, do you really have the... the...

Caitria: The what?

Ron: [whispers] The scar?

“Well that was rude,” Andromeda stated causing Molly to glare at her.

“I agree!” Arthur said.

“WHAT?” Molly screeched at her husband.

Caitria: Oh. [Caitria lifts up her hair bangs to reveal the scar on her forehead]

Ron: Wicked!

[A trolley comes by the compartment, full of sweets.]

Woman: Anything off the trolley, dears?

Ron: [Holds up his mushed sandwiches] No, thanks. I’m all set. [smacks lips.]

Caitria: We’ll take the lot! [pulls out coins]

Ron: Whoa!

“Now that’s friendship goals,” Remus grinned.

[A bit later, Caitria and Ron are now sitting together eating bundles of sweets. Ron’s rat, Scabbers, is perched on Ron’s knee, a box over his head.]

“That looks like you,” Remus whispered to Peter.

Caitria: Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans?

Ron: They mean every flavour! There’s chocolate and peppermint, and there’s also spinach, liver and tripe. George swore he got a bogey–flavoured one once!

[Caitria quickly takes the bean she was chewing out of her mouth.]

Laughter echoed throughout the room.

Caitria: [picks up a blue and gold package] These aren’t real frogs, are they?

Ron: It’s just a spell. Besides, it’s the cards you want. Each pack’s got a famous witch or wizard. I got about five hundred meself.

“Eight hundred,” Evan smiled smug.

“One thousand,” Barty smirked.

“Twelve hundred,” Regulus winked at a gobsmacked Evan.

“Two Thousand,” Remus bowed at the gasps.

“Two Thousand, six hundred,” Rabastan grinned.

“Three thousand, five hundred and eighty,” Orion sat back with an amused grin at all of the dropped jaws.

[Caitria opens the package, and a chocolate frog jumps onto the window and climbs up.]

Ron: Watch it! [The frog reaches the open gap in the window and jumps out.] Oh, that’s rotten luck. They’ve only got one good jump in them to begin with.

“No the chocolate, sacrilege.” Remus and Rabastan cried.

Caitria: [seeing Dumbledore’s image in the card, frowns] I’ve got Dumbledore!

Ron: I got about six of him.

[Caitria looks at the card again, but Dumbledore has vanished.]

Caitria: Hey, he’s gone!

Ron: Well, you can’t expect him to hang around all day, can you? [Scabbers squeaks] This is Scabbers, by the way. Pathetic, isn’t he?

Caitria: Just a little bit.

Ron: Fred gave me a spell as to turn him yellow. Want to see?

“I bet it’s fake,” Gideon whispered to Fabian.

Caitria: Yeah!

Ron: [clears throat] Ahem. Sun–

[A girl called Hermione Granger, with bushy brown hair, dressed in robes, appears at the doorway.]

“Ahhh her hair!” Abraxas and Lucius yelped.

The Blacks agreed with their cry of outrage. Hair was important in their society and the look of hers was atrocious.

Hermione: Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville’s lost one.

Ron: No.

Hermione: Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see then.

Ron: [clears throat again] Sunshine, daises, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!

[He zaps Scabbers, but nothing happens. Ron shrugs.]

“Haha knew it,” Gideon chuckled.

Hermione: Are you sure that’s a real spell? Well, it’s not very good, is it? Of course, I’ve only tried a few simple ones myself, but they’ve all worked for me. For example... [Hermione goes over and sits across from Caitria. She points her wand at her scarf and Caitria tenses] Reparo. [The poorly job at stitching on the scarf vanishes, repairing it as if it was brand new. Caitria takes it off, amazed.] That’s better, isn’t it? Holy cricket, you’re Caitria Potter! I’m Hermione Granger. And you are... ?

Ron: [with his mouth full] I’m Ron Weasley.

Hermione: Pleasure. You two better change into your robes. I expect we’ll be arriving soon. [Gets up and leaves, then comes back and looks at Ron.] You’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way. Did you know? Just there.

[She points to the dirt mark on Ron’s nose. Ron scratches his nose, embarrassed.]

Chapter Text

[It is nighttime at Hogsmeade station, the train blows its whistle and pulls into outside the station. Hagrid walks along the side aisle, with a lantern. People, in their robes, begin pouring out of the train.]

Hagrid: Right, then! First years! This way, please! Come on, now, don’t be shy! Come on now, hurry up!

[Caitria and Ron, now in their robes, walk up to Hagrid.]

Hagrid: Hello, Caitria.

Caitria: Hey, Hagrid.

Ron: Whoaa!

Hagrid: Right then. This way to the boats! Come on, now, follow me.

[Later, a large number of boats are plugging across a vast lake, where up ahead there is a huge castle, known as the Hogwarts Castle, can be seen. People are in awe.]

“I will never get over that sight,” Fleamont grinned at his wife, all of his memories have ties to the majestic castle.

Ron: Wicked.

“I had the same reaction,” Barty poked Regulus who sorted, remembering exactly the boy’s reaction.

[They continue on further towards the castle. Later on, the first–year students walk in the castle, and up the staircase. As the camera pans, we see on a higher level, Professor McGonagall is waiting. She taps her fingers on a stone railing, and then goes to the top of the stairs to greet the newcomers.]

McGonagall: Welcome to Hogwarts. Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Now while you’re here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points. Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup.

“Does Minnie never change the speech?” James asked.

Roldolphus shook his head, “I’m guessing not as it was the same as ours.”

[A scared looking boy called Neville Longbottom, spots his toad sitting near McGonagall. He jumps forward.]

Neville: Trevor! [he catches his toad; McGonagall stares down at him as some of the students laugh] Sorry. [He backs away, embarrassed.]

“He looks like you Frank!” James called out.

McGonagall: The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily. [she leaves to go into the Great Hall]

[A young evil looking boy, with short blonde hair, called Draco Malfoy, speaks up.]

“Looks just like you Lucius,” Roldolphus grinned.

Draco: It’s true then, what they’re saying on the train. Caitria Potter has come to Hogwarts. [some of the students are heard whispering, “Caitria Potter?” Draco introduces his two friends.] This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.

[Ron snickers at his name]

Draco: Think my name’s funny, do you? I’ve no need to ask yours. Red hair, and a hand–me–down robe? You must be a Weasley. You’ll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there. [extends his hand to Caitria.]

Caitria: [not going to take Draco’s arrogance] I like how you are named after a star constellation, I think its pretty cool. I would like to be friends with at least one person from all of the houses and one from all blood types [she sneers at the term blood types] I personally don’t discriminate against who your parents are, if you are here, then you belong because Magic brought you here. We are eleven, the only wrong sort I see happening at this age is people being rude to one another. We all have Magic as Lady Magic blessed us all with it.

Those watching are flabbergasted. The girl had a point. Of course there were some who didn’t agree – Walburga, her brother and his wife, Molly, and of course Dumbledore.

“Damn, you tell him!” Bellatrix laughed.

[Draco glares. McGonagall returns and taps Draco on the shoulder with a paper. He leaves Caitria with one last glare.]

McGonagall: We’re ready for you now. Follow me.

Chapter Text

[Professor McGonagall leads everyone through two large doors which go to the Great Hall, where there are four long tables with thousands of students, as well as floating candles. The roof appears to be the sky.]

Hermione: It’s not real, the ceiling. It’s just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History.

[McGonagall leads the first years to the front where the Sorting Hat lies on the stool.]

McGonagall: All right, will you wait along here, please? Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words.

[Dumbledore rises from the main table.]

Dumbledore: I have a few start–of–term notices I wish to announce. The first years, please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, [shows a ragged old man, called Mr. Argus Filch, with his cat with red eyes, called Mrs. Norris.] has asked me to remind you that the third–floor corridor on the right–hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you. [He sits back down]

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Orion glared at the Headmaster who looked back at him as if there was nothing wrong with what was said.

McGonagall: When I call your name, you will come forth. I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses. Hermione Granger.

Hermione: [to herself] Oh, no. Okay, relax. [She goes up]

Ron: Mental, that one, I’m telling you.

[Caitria rolls her eyes. Hermione sits on the stool and McGonagall places the sorting hat on her head]

Sorting Hat: Ah, right then... hmm... right. Okay. Gryffindor!

[The students cheer; Hermione jumps off with a smile.]

McGonagall: Draco Malfoy.

[Draco saunters up proudly. The tattered hat nearly freaks before touching down on Draco’s head.]

Sorting Hat: Slytherin!

“Congratulations Son,” Abraxas clapped his son's shoulder for the success of his grandson.

[The students cheer, not as loudly]

Ron: There isn’t a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin.

Cairtria: [Caitria looked over at him] That's not true. Merlin a Wizard that was so famous that even muggles knew of him was in Slytherin. There were ‘evil’ Wizards and witches from all of the houses. Also dark doesn't mean evil! Stop being pigheaded and prejudices, you didn't like that Malfoy treated you that way, yet you speak about in a way that's even worse. We're eleven for Merlin's sake.

“I'm in love,” Barty whispered.

“She's eleven!” Rabastan said exasperated.

Molly looked furious at how Caitria dared to talk to her son.

McGonagall: Susan Bones.

[A small redhead, named Susan Bones, walks up to the Sorting Hat. Caitria looks around and notices a black greasy haired, pale man, called Severus Snape, giving her sinister looks. Her scar hurts.]

“Sevvy’s a teacher?” Regulus gaped at the screen.

“What did you do to her?”

Caitria: Ahh! [puts her hand on her forehead in pain]

Ron: [concerned] Caitria, what is it?

Caitria: Nothing. Nothing, I’m fine.

Sorting Hat: Let’s see... I know! Hufflepuff!

McGonagall: Ronald Weasley.

[Ron gulps and walks up. He sits down and the hat is put on.]

Sorting Hat: Ha! Another Weasley. I know just what to do with you. Gryffindor!

[The students cheer as Ron sighs in relief.]

McGonagall: Caitria Potter.

[Everything goes silent. Caitria walks up and sits down on the stool. The Sorting Hat is placed on her head.]

Sorting Hat: Hmm... difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There’s talent, oh, yes. And a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you?

Caitria: [whispering to the hat] Where my friend is please

Sorting Hat: Gryffindor? What about Slytherin, eh? 

Cartria: I’m sure it’s a nice house, but Ron’s in Gryffindor

Sorting Hat: Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It’s all here, in your head. And Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness! There’s no doubt about that. No?

Caitria: [still whispering] Please, Gryffindor...

Sorting Hat: Beware the Headmaster

“What the?”

Caitria: [still whispering] I know, I’m already suspicious of him. He had my vault key

Sorting Hat: If you’re sure you’ll be safe. Better be... GRYFFINDOR!

[There is an immense cheering and Caitria gets sent to the Gryffindor table.]

Fred and George: We got Potter! We got Potter!

[Caitria sits down at the table. She looks at Dumbledore, who lifts up his goblet and slightly waves it, as if he was wishing congratulations she sneered at his head before turning back to the sorting.]

“I love her no matter what house she got into,” James smiled as his parents, friends and Lily agreed.

Chapter Text

[Later, when all of the first years are sorted in their houses, all of the students were talking to each other. McGonagall dings on a cup.]

McGonagall: Your attention, please. 

Dumbledore: [rising from his chair] Let the feast... begin. 

[From the aerial view of the Great Hall, food magically appears on all the tables, and the hall is filled with awe and chatter.]  

“I remember how bewildered I was,” Lily hummed sitting next to Remus who nodded in agreement.

“Same here.”

Caitria: Wow. 

[Draco looks at all the food, raises his eyebrows and digs in. Ron stuffs his face.]  

Seamus: I'm half and half. Me dad's a Muggle. Mam's a witch. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out. 

[Neville laughs. Caitria is sitting next to Percy and doesn’t think it’s funny, as it could have ended bad. She leans over.]  

“She’s got a point,” Severus said, thinking of his own father’s response and hatred towards him and his mother.

Orion and Abraxas nodded, thinking of a friend of theirs. 

Caitria: Say, Percy, who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?

Percy: Oh, that's Professor Snape, head of Slytherin house.

“Of course!” Barty snickered. 

Caitria: What's he teach? 

Percy: Potions. But everyone knows it's the Dark Arts he fancies. He's been after Quirrell’s job for years.

Lucius and Regulus nodded already knowing the boy’s love for the subject. He loved creating spells and curses, so being the Professor would be his dream come true.

Severus had his jaw hanging open in shock as well. Why on earth would he become a Hogwarts teacher? Closing his mouth, he began to slowly turn pale as he began to think how bad he might treat Caitria and how the others would react to it. Because there was no doubt that he would think of her as a Potter reincarnate.

[Ron, having just finished a chicken wing, reaches into the bowl for more, and a ghost, called Sir Nicolas, pops out.]  

Ron: Ahh!

James starting laughing pushing at Sirius, “You reacted the same bloody way.”

Sirius scoffed, “no I didn’t.”

Remus and Peter raised eyebrows, “Yes you did.”

Nick: Hello! How are you? Welcome to Gryffindor. 

[Numerous ghosts come pouring from the walls, sailing along.]  

Bloody Baron: Whoo-hoo-hoo!

“I never found out why he was covered in blood.” Orion commented and his brother shrugged.

“Me neither, but he was perfect for Slytherin.” 

Girl: Look, it’s the Bloody Baron! 

Percy: Hello, Sir Nicholas. Have a nice summer? 

Nick: Dismal. Once again, my request to join the headless hunt has been denied. [Begins to leave] 

Ron: I know you! You're Nearly Headless Nick!

“Oof, don’t call him that,” Arthur muttered.

Many in the room flinched, rule number one of being in the presence of the Gryffindor ghost was – never call him ‘Nearly Headless Nick’. 

Nick: I prefer Sir Nicholas if you don't mind. 

Molly rolled her eyes, “He is such a drama queen.”

Arthur gave her a look. “He deserves some respect, Molly.”

She looked at him, “why, he’s just a ghost.”

Many looked at the Weasley Matriarch not understanding her attitude. 

Hermione: "Nearly" headless? How can you be nearly headless? 

Nick: Like this. [Grabs head and pulls it to the side. His head is hanging on just by a thread.] 

Ron: Ahh!

[Hermione moans in disgust; Caitria just simply rolls her eyes. Nick reattaches his head back to his body. Later, Percy is leading the Gryffindors to the staircase tower.]  

“I love how chilled she is,” Barty laughed, clutching at his stomach.

Sirius nodded, “not even were we that calm.” 

Percy: Gryffindors, follow me, please. Keep up. Thank you.

Molly cooed, “Awww our son is a prefect.” 

Boy: Ravenclaws, follow me. This way. 

Percy: This is the most direct path to the dormitories. Oh, and keep an eye on the staircases. They like to change. 

[The camera pans up and we see a vast amount of staircases, people walking on them, and some switching places.]  

Percy: Keep up, please, and follow me. Quickly now, come on. Come on.

“Come on now, give them some time to look around.” James cried out, throwing his arms up in the air.

His friends agreed along with Arthur and the Prewett twins.

Molly of course didn’t. “No, they need to be faster. My Percy is perfectly fine, it’s the children who need go faster.”

“What the hell Mollikins?” Fabian asked astonished.

Gideon shock his head disgusted.

[They begin walking up the stairs, several of the portraits began greeting them]  

Neville: Seamus, that picture's moving! 

Ron: Look at that one, Caitria! 

Caitria: I think she fancies you.

“They remind me of James and Sirius.” Remus said to Peter who nodded enthusiastically. 

Girl: Oh, look! Look! Who's that girl? 

Man in a painting: Welcome to Hogwarts. 

Girl: Who's that? 

[A bit later on the seventh floor, the students in the corridor leading to Gryffindor Tower. They come up to a large painting of a large woman in a pink dress. She is known as "The Fat Lady".]  

The Fat Lady: Password? 

Percy: Caput Draconis. [The Fat Lady smiles and nods in confirmation. The painting opens up to reveal a doorway in the wall, leading to Gryffindor Tower.] Follow me, everyone. Keep up. Quickly, come on.

Girl: Oh, wow.

Percy: [Inside the common room] Gather around here. Welcome to the Gryffindor Common Room. Boys' dormitory is upstairs and down to your left. Girls, the same on your right. You'll find that your belongings have already been brought up. 

“Wow, it looks so homey.” Andromeda whispered.

And it was, a cosy, round room full of squashy armchairs, a fireplace and numerous of beanbags and tables with chess boards waiting to be played.

Percy: [Percy stands next to the staircase with Professor McGonagall] Ms Potter, may I have a word with you?

Caitria: [Caitra gulps wondering what she could have possibly done wrong.]

Percy: Caitria it seems that Hogwarts has placed you with Ron, Neville and Seamus along with Dean. Is this okay with you, because if not, Professor McGonagall who is the head of our house will try to find a solution.

Caitria: [Caitria smiles, relief flooding through her body.] Is there charms and spells I can use so that they don’t see or hear anything that they shouldn’t?

McGonagall: [McGonagall grins, her eyes sparkling behind her glasses. She handed the girl a sheet with spells on them] These are a bit more than first year, but the moment you get it right – which you should with parents like James and Lily – they will come to you like second nature 

“Wow, like no pressure.” Sirius’ jaw dropped.

“I have a feeling her entire time at school is going to be filled with comments like that.” Arthur said looking sad. 

[Later at midnight. Caitria is sitting by a window in her pj's, with Hedwig. She pets the owl and looks out the window, sighing with content, knowing that she will love it here at Hogwarts.]  

“Awww my baby, look at her!” James jumped up and down, looking from the screen to his parents and back again.

“She’s absolutely precious Jamie,” Euphemia said smiling.

Chapter Text

[It is morning at Hogwarts, and Caitria and Ron are running in the corridors because they're late for Transfiguration class. In the class, a tabby cat is sitting on a desk. Caitria and Ron rush in; Hermione rolls her eyes in annoyance because they're late for class.]  

Ron: Whew! Made it! Can you imagine the look on McGonagall's face if we were late? 

[The cat jumps off the desk and transforms into Professor McGonagall, on-screen for the first time. The two children are amazed.]  

“You never change do you Minnie?” James asked, a smirk on his face.

McGonagall sighed, her hand covering her own smug smirk even though her eyes narrowed on the boy. “Stop with that name!”

Many laughed at their Professor whom they had seen change forms many times throughout their years at Hogwarts.

Ron: That was bloody brilliant!

McGonagall: Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps, it'd be more useful if I were to transfigure Ms. Potter and yourself into a pocketwatch. That way, one of you might be on time.

Caitria: We got lost.

McGonagall: Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats.

A couple of students laughed while a group of four made subtly glances to one another before snickering.

[Caitria thinks that a map would be very helpful, not just for those who are new to the Wizardry World but for every new student. She had overheard the other houses talking about one given to them by their head of house, yet Gryffindor never receives one.]  

McGonagall looked towards her fellow head of houses and gasped when the three of them nodded and gave her disappointed looks.

“Why haven’t you Minerva?” Flitwick asked.

“Because Dumbledore sai–”

Sprout huffed, “Since when is he in charge of what you do for your house?”

[Later on, inside Snape's potions classroom, the students are chattering, sitting near steaming cauldrons. The door slams open and Snape comes rushing in.]  

“Oh Merlin, he looks like a dungeon bat!” Barty yelped out when a stinging hex hit him in the side.

Regulus just groaned, “This isn’t going to go well, is it?”

Snape: There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few... [looks at Draco, who smiles] who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper... [Draco looks on] ... in death.

“Bewitch the mind... ensnare the senses... stopper in death...” Evan snickered while Lucius had to bite his lip to stop his own burst of laughter.

Snape: [Draco raises his eyebrows. Snape sees Caitria, writing what Snape said in his lecture down, in, his view, not paying attention.] Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough... to not... pay... attention. [Hermione nudges Caitria, finally making the other girl look up to the Professor. Snape then walks to where he can speak to Caitria more properly.] Ms. Potter. Our... new... celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood? 

Caitria: [Hermione raises her hand. Caitria looks at him.] According to One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, mixing asphodel and wormwood would make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. I have also read that powdered root of Asphodel is an ingredient in the Wiggenwald potion.

Snape: [Snape looks begrudgingly impressed, but still sneers.] Well, let's try again. Where, Ms. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?

Lily threw a glare towards Severus, “she is correct, so why are you being so mean?”

Severus looked down in shame.

James growled and turned to glare at him. Severus’ eyes were wide in shock. ‘I know Potions isn’t for everyone a fact I take as an insult... but surely, I wouldn’t be such a prat.’

[Hermione's hand raises again.]  

Caitria: I read that it can be found inside of a goat, and with the basic information I have read so far, it’s an antidote for most common poisons, sir.

Snape: [His sneer is slowly disappearing] And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfbane?

Caitria: That Sir, even muggles should know. Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. The book you allocated for us also states that two sprigs of wolfsbane are used in the brewing of the Wideye Potion.

“Oowww, snap.” Evan chuckled.

“Damn.” Regulus whistled, as the Marauders started cheering

“She really just took the wind out of your sails, Sev.” Rabastan agreed

“And if that wasn't a Slytherin move right there, I don't know what is.” Bellatrix snickered, taking a liking to the girl.

“She just politely obliterated me.” Severus’ jaw dropped. He couldn’t help but be impressed.

Barty laughed, “Oh Potter, I adore your daughter!”

“The sass! I love it,” Narcissa smirked.

Snape: Congratulations, it seems that you’ve actually read a book.

[Draco looks on in disappointment, his smirk long gone]

Caitria: Clearly, Hermione knew all of the answers. Seems a pity not to have asked her.

[Hermione looks a bit surprised as everyone laughs]

Snape: Silence. [he turns to Caitria, looking a bit insulted; Caitria seemingly gulps. Snape then walks over to his desk. To Hermione, who has still got her hand up.] Put your hand down, you silly girl. [He sits in front of Caitria, and leans towards her, everything is quiet] Well? [to the students] Why aren't you all copying this down?

“Maybe cause you haven’t told them too?” Barty waved his hands about while Evan ducked to avoid being slapped in the face.

[The students obey Snape and start to write down what Snape said. Snape returns to his desk, and dips his quill into some ink.] 

Snape: And Gryffindors, note that five points will be taken from your house... for your classmate's cheek. [Snape then starts writing; Hermione looks at Caitria and then starts writing. Caitria looks at Snape, who turns slightly and then continues writing. Caitria stares at him, knowing that he shows dislike for her.] 

[Thinking to herself] In Victorian Flower Language, asphodel is a type of lily that means ‘My regrets follow you to the grave’ and wormwood meant ‘absence’ and also typically symbolised bitter sorrow. Combining them as stated in the potion would mean ‘I bitterly regret Lily’s death’. According to Snape, if you combine Powdered Root of Asphodel and an infusion of Wormwood, you brew a sleeping potion ‘so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death.’ Is he trying to say that his regret over my mother’s fate together reflects what his life is now... a living death? Why would he regret that night? Were they friends... lovers... siblings or enemies?  

Lily just glared at her once friend, hurt shimmering in her green eyes, that were close to tearing up. She didn’t understand the boy anymore – first he insulted her infront of the school, then he is an absolute prat to her daughter, but apparently regrets her death?

  [In the great hall, around midday. The students are all doing their homework. Seamus is trying a spell on a cup.]

Seamus: Eye of rabbit, harp string hum. Turn this water, into rum. [Looks in cup and shakes head.] Eye of rabbit, harp string hum...

Caitria: Is Seamus really trying to be modern Jesus Christ?

“A what?”

Even though Lily wasn’t religious, she had attended Church enough times to answer that. “If you ask a religious person they would say, ‘One Lord Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God, born of the Father before all ages, was a religious leader revered in Christianity, one of the world's major religions’. He is regarded by most Christians as the incarnation of God but basically he is a demi-god, the son of the only God many Muggles believe in.”

Many Pure Bloods looked shocked.

Regulus turned to her and asked, “wait so they only believe in one God?”

She nodded, “unless they come from places like Greece, places that follow Roman and Greek mythology, Egypt etcetera.”

Ron: A what?

Caitria: Jesus was... the Muggles’ version of Merlin, I guess you could say. He was the son of God. To prove his godly – cause magic wasn’t thought to be real – he turned water into rum.

“No offence Red, but I like your daughter’s explanation better.” Sirius said smiling.

Lily nodded, “that was a lot simpler.”

Ron: [looks amazed and confused] Huh? Well Seamus actually managed a weak tea yesterday, before –

[Ron was cut off when a mighty flash occurs. We now see that the cup has exploded and Seamus is left charred. Several students laugh at this as Hermione fans away the smoke with her hand. Suddenly, a flock of owls start coming into the hall from the rafters above.]

Ron: Ah. Mail's here!

[The owls soar by, dropping parcels to students. Caitria gets nothing. She sees the newspaper Ron has put down.]  

James and Lily turned to one another. They needed to survive this time, their child couldn’t live like that.

Caitria: Can I borrow this? [Ron nods] Thanks.

[Neville is unwrapping a gift. It is a clear glass ball with a gold banner around it.]

Dean: Hey, look! Neville's got a Remembrall!

Hermione: I've read about those. When the smoke turns red, [the smoke turns red] it means you've forgotten something.

Neville: The only problem is, I can't remember what I've forgotten.

Caitria: Your robes Neville. Hey, Ron! Somebody broke into Gringotts. Listen. [She reads the article] “Believed to be the work of dark witches or wizards unknown, Gringotts goblins, while acknowledging the breach, insist that nothing was taken. The vault in question, number 713, had in fact been emptied earlier that same day.” That's odd. That's the vault Hagrid and I went to.

Alice smiled, “your daughter is so kind.”

James nodded but soon frowned when Remus said mockingly, “but like some – can’t keep a secret.”

Sirius also frowned, his chest hurting as he knew that was a dig at him. Remus went to look at him, but Sirius was quick to look away, going as far as turning his whole body to the side.

Chapter Text

“ITS BAMBI’S FIRST FLYING LESSON!” James bellowed, jumping up and down in his seat.

He wasn’t the only one excited, all Quidditch fanatics were on the edge of their seats waiting to see for any new potential members. 

[That afternoon, outside the castle, the students, Gryffindor and Slytherin, are lined up in two rows with brooms by their sides. The teacher, Madam Hooch, comes down the line. She has short hair and hawk yellow eyes.]  

“They creeped me out the first time seeing them,” Ted whispered to Andromeda who snickered.

Hooch: Good afternoon, class.

Class: Good afternoon, Madam Hooch.

Hooch: Good afternoon. [to the class] Welcome to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone, step up to the left side of their broomstick. Come on now, hurry up. Stick your right hand over the broom and say, “Up.”

Class: Up!

[After Caitria said “Up”!, the broom immediately flies into her hand.]  

“YES!” James cheered. “She’s a natural!”

Regulus and Lucius couldn’t help but nod in agreement, the girl definitely had the touch for flying so far. 

Caitria: [amazed] Wow!

[Hermione stares at her as the class continues.]

Draco: Up! [broomstick flies up and Draco smugly grins.] 

“BLOODY BLEACHED BARBIE!” Barty and Rabastan yelled out, yelping when Lucius sent stinging hexes at them.

Ron: Up. Up!

Hooch: With feeling!

Hermione: [as her broomstick slowly rises] Up. Up. Up. Up.

“Is she going to be trouble for Caitria? She seems mad whenever Caitria answers correctly or does things better.” Evan whispered to Regulus who barrowed his eyes at the bushy–haired girl.

Ron: Up!! [His broom immediately shot up and whacked him on the nose] Ooh! [Caitria laughs] Shut up, Caitria. [Ron then seemingly starts to laugh after he recovered]

Hooch: Now, once you’ve got hold of your broom, I want you to mount it. And grip it tight, you don’t want to be sliding off the end. [The class mounts on their broomsticks] When I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your broom steady, hover for a moment, then lean forward slightly and touch back down. On my whistle. 3, 2...

[She blows the whistle. However, Neville’s broomstick somehow lifts him off the ground. Neville immediately lifts off. He looks quite frightened.]  

“Mother like son,” Lily giggled at her friend who mock–glared at her.

Neville: Oh...

Hooch: Mr. Longbottom.

Girl: Neville, what are you doing?

Students: Neville... Neville...

Boy: We’re not supposed to take off, yet.

Hooch: [Neville begins soaring away uncontrollably] M–M–M–Mr. Longb–!

Neville: AHH!

Alice and Frank both froze, their eyes wide as they watched their son’s broom fly away with him.

“What the hell? Are you even trying to help him?” Alice snapped at the hawk–eyed teacher, despite not being there to hear.

Hooch: Mr. Longbottom!

Neville: Down! Down! Ahhhh!

Caitria: [Caitria can’t help but glare at Madam Hooch, thinking that for a flying instructor, she is hopeless.] Neville!

“True!” Alice huffed. 

Neville: Help!!! 

[He immediately skyrockets towards the sky]  

Hooch: Come back down this instant! 

“He can’t!” Sirius yelled. 

Caitria: [She huffs and whispers under her breath] He can’t 

Sirius blushed before smiling smugly. The girl was just like him. 

Neville: AHH!

[He flies uncontrollably in the air and hits a wall, conking along it and then swooping off. All the while, he is screaming. He begins to zoom back towards the group of students. Hooch quickly holds out her wand to stop him.]  

“You could hit him,” Frank snarled at the on–screen woman.

Neville: Help!

Hooch: Mr. Longbottom–! [However, the students quickly stand back as Hooch dives out of the way, allowing Neville to fly right through. Neville goes through the scatter and up a tower.]

Neville: Ahhhh! Whoa! Ahhh! [zooms past a statue of a man with a sharp spear. Neville’s cloak catches on it. He is flipped off the broom and hangs there.] Oh. Ah... help! [He wavers, then the cloak rips through the spear, and he falls. But his cloak catches on a torch, making Neville slip off from his cloak a second later and fell to the ground.] Ow!

Hooch: Everyone out of the way! [She runs through the group, and they scatter.] Come on, get up.

Hermione: Is he alright?

Caitria: What do you think?

“Kind of a stupid question,” Fabian scoffed while his brother nodded.

Molly glared at her brothers, “No it’s not.”

The Marauders all looked at her strangely.

“Yes it is.”

[Hooch is helping Neville up; he has broken his wrist after he fell.]

Neville: Ow, ow, ow, ow.

Hooch: Oh, oh, oh, oh dear. It’s a broken wrist. Tch, tch, tch. Poor boy. Come on now, up you get. [Draco reaches down and grabs Neville’s Remembrall, which has fallen from him. Hooch begins to lead Neville away with her.] Everyone’s to keep their feet firmly on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. Understand? If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before they can say, Quidditch. [Madam Hooch leaves the field to take Neville to the hospital wing.]

Draco: [snickers] Did you see his face? Maybe if the fat lump had given this a squeeze, he’d have remembered to fall on his fat arse. [He and his goons laugh; Caitria approaches him.] 

“LUCIUS!” Narcissa screamed at her fiancé who winced at her volume and glared at his friends who were snickering at his misfortune.

Caitria: Give it here, Malfoy.

Draco: No. I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. [He hops on his broom and soars around group, then through.] How about on the roof? [Soars off and hovers several feet above the grounds.] What’s the matter, Potter? Bit beyond your reach?

“This is your fault,” Narcissa growled at the man, horrified at her son’s attitude.

[Finally having enough, Caitria gets on her broom, Hermione stops her.]

Hermione: Caitria, no way! You heard what Madam Hooch said. Besides, you don’t even know how to fly. [Caitria flies off to face Draco, ignoring her.] What an idiot.

[Caitria is now in the air, across from Draco.]

Caitria: Give it here, Malfoy, or I’ll knock you off your broom!

Draco: Is that so? [Caitria makes a dash for him, but Draco twirls around his broom in a 360.] Have it your way, then.

[Draco hurls the Remembrall into the air, like a baseball. Caitria zooms after the ball, speeding towards a tower. Just as she is about to hit a window, from which McGonagall is working, she catches it. McGonagall notices this and looks surprised as Caitria begins to fly back down to the grounds. The students all cheer as Caitria lands back on the ground at ease. They run to see her.]  

“HOLY FUCK!”

“LANGUAGE!”

“ENGLISH!”

“FIRST TIME ON A BROOM?”

“BLOODY AMAZING.”

“SHE BETTER BE ON THE TEAM!”

Boy: Nice going, Caitria!

Boy 2: Oh, that was wicked, Caitria!

[McGonagall appears in the grounds.]

McGonagall: Caitria Potter! [Caitria notices her] Follow me. [Caitria sullenly follows her. Draco and his goons snicker in delight.] 

“Come on Minnie!” Sirius gasped at the head of his house. “You can’t punish her for that!”

“Yeah, especially if you want to win the House Cup!”

Molly sneered at the screen, “well she deserves to be punished.”

Arthur glared at her, “Molly, shut up!”

[McGonagall and Caitria arrive outside of Professor Quirrell’s classroom. He is inside teaching, holding an iguana.]  

Quirrell: An iguana s–such as this is...

McGonagall: You wait here.

Quirrell: ...an essential in–gredient.

McGonagall: Professor Quirrell, excuse me, excuse me. Could I borrow Wood for a moment, please?

Caitria: [starts to worry – her mind racing on what punishment could possibly involve wood.] Am I getting the cane? Oh Merlin – wait when did I start saying that – I’m so dead, goodbye Hoggy Warts I wish I could stay... 

James couldn’t help but laugh at his daughter’s monologue. “Definitely a Potter, she has the dramatics down pat.

Quirrell: Oh, y–yes, of course. [A boy called Oliver Wood, gets up to leave and Quirrell continues.] And the vampire b–bat... [as Wood exits the classroom, an eerie roar is heard.]

McGonagall: Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood, I have found you a Seeker!

“YES!”

“GO GIRL!”

“AWESOME!”

[Caitria and Ron are walking through crowded halls. Sir Nicholas and a lady ghost float by.]

Nick: Have you heard? Caitria Potter’s the new Gryffindor Seeker. I always knew she’d do well.

“Sure, you did.”

“Suck up.”

Ron: Seeker? But first years never make their house teams! You must be the youngest Quidditch player in... 

Caitria: A century, according to McGonagall.

“That’s my girl!”

“Our girl Potter!”

“Nah, mine, see that flying talent... that’s all me. When she does good in schooling then she’s yours.”

[Fred and George approach and walk along with Ron and Caitria.]

Fred: Hey, well done, Caitria, Wood’s just told us!

Ron: Fred and George are on the team, too. Beaters.

George: Our job is to make sure that you don’t get bloodied up too bad. Can’t make any promises, of course. Rough game, Quidditch.

Fred: Brutal. But no one’s died in years. Someone will vanish occasionally. 

[They break off from Caitria and Ron, who walk across a courtyard.]  

Barty scoffed amused, “that’s comforting.”

The Prewett twins cackled at their nephews’ antics.

George: But they’ll turn up in a month or two!

Ron: Oh, go on, Caitria. Quidditch is great. Best game there is! And you’ll be great, too!

[Hermione, knowing what Caitria is talking about, jumps up from her work and comes to join them.]  

Evan fell out of his chair, “holy shit where did she come from?”

“Ghost!” Rabastan yelped and joined his idiotic friend on the floor. 

Caitria: But I’ve never even played Quidditch. What if I make a fool of myself?

Hermione: You won’t make a fool of yourself. It’s in your blood.

[Later, the three approach a trophy case. Hermione points at a plaque of Quidditch players. One lists Caitria’s father as a Chaser.]

Ron: Whoa. Caitria, you never told me your father was a Chaser, too.

Caitria: I didn’t know.

Everyone who had been cheering for the girl froze, sadness shaping out of their bodies and souls. To grow up knowing nothing about your parents and then be thrown into the spotlight the way Caitria had... they felt sorry for the girl.

Chapter Text

[The trio ascends the spiraling stone steps of the Grand Staircase tower. The air grows slightly cooler with each upward turn, carrying the faint scent of aged parchment and unseen dust motes dancing in the slivers of light filtering through narrow, arched windows. As they round a bend, a section of the ornate iron railing beside them groans softly and retracts smoothly into the wall, leaving a temporary gap in the protective barrier. Hermione pauses almost imperceptibly, her keen eyes flicking towards the disappearing metalwork with a momentary flicker of curiosity. A thoughtful furrow briefly creases her brow as she registers the unusual movement. However, after only a split second, her focus returns to the climb, and she continues her upward trajectory without comment, her footsteps echoing softly on the worn stone. Caitria and Ron, caught up in their own hushed conversation, seem to miss the fleeting anomaly entirely, their gazes fixed on the steps ahead. ]

Ron: I’m telling you, it’s spooky. She knows more about you than you do.

Caitria: Who doesn’t?

James and his family all looked down in sadness, this whole being famous thing was going to be too much for Caitria, they could tell.

[A low rumble vibrates through the ancient stonework beneath their feet, growing steadily in intensity. The spiraling staircase, previously solid and still, gives a sudden, unsettling shudder. Loose dust and tiny pebbles dislodge from the steps, scattering momentarily in the dim light. An audible groan echoes from within the tower's structure as the entire flight of stairs begins to shift. The smooth, predictable ascent transforms into a disorienting, slow motion ride. Instinct takes over. Caitria yelps softly, her hand shooting out to grip the cold, ornate iron railing beside her, her knuckles whitening with the force of her hold. Beside her, Ron lets out a startled noise and instinctively lunges for the same railing, his fingers wrapping around the cold metal just as the steps beneath him lurch slightly. Hermione, ever composed even in the face of the unexpected, grasps the railing firmly, her eyes narrowed with focused awareness as she assesses the situation with a mixture of surprise and keen observation. The subtle shift in the staircase's orientation throws their balance momentarily, and they lean into the railings, their knuckles white against the aged iron, as the Grand Staircase decides to change its course. ]

Ron: Ahh!

[A sharp intake of breath escapes Hermione's lips, a sound of pure surprise breaking the sudden stillness that follows the staircase's initial lurch. Her eyes widen slightly, reflecting a flicker of genuine astonishment. It's a rare display of unguarded reaction from the usually composed witch, a testament to the unexpected nature of the staircase's abrupt movement. The sound is brief but carries in the echoing stairwell, a clear indication that even Hermione, with her vast knowledge of Hogwarts' many eccentricities, finds this particular behavior noteworthy. ]

Caitria: What’s happening?

Hermione: The staircases change, remember?

[With a final, gentle groan, the moving staircase glides to a halt, its stone steps settling into a new, stationary position. The subtle vibrations cease, and the air stills once more. Before them now stretches a dimly lit corridor, its stone walls lined with aged portraits whose painted eyes seem to follow their every move. The corridor is narrow, the only illumination coming from flickering torches mounted at intervals along the walls, casting dancing shadows that play across the uneven flagstone floor. A heavy, wooden door stands at the far end of the passage, its dark surface hinting at mysteries beyond. The change in the staircase's trajectory has deposited them on an entirely different level of the tower, presenting them with a new path to explore, one that hadn't been visible just moments before. ]  

“Evil things!” Remus huffed ignoring his friends’ bewildered expressions.

“You’re always on them, claiming it’s no different to an amusement ride!”

Caitria: [She reaches out and gives Ron a quick, firm tap on the arm. Her touch is light but deliberate, enough to draw his attention away from whatever thoughts were occupying him in the slightly disorienting aftermath of the staircase's movement. Her eyes are already fixed on the newly revealed corridor, a silent question in their depths.] Let’s go this way.

Ron: Before the staircase moves again.

[With a shared glance of hesitant curiosity, the trio approaches the heavy wooden door at the end of the short corridor where the staircase deposited them. Ron, perhaps a little reluctantly, reaches out and pushes the door inward. It creaks open with a low, mournful groan, the sound echoing in the sudden stillness beyond. They step through the threshold and into a starkly different atmosphere.]

[The air in this new corridor is heavy and still, carrying a distinct chill that raises goosebumps on Caitria's arms. Darkness presses in from all sides, the meager light from the doorway doing little to penetrate the gloom. Long, elongated shadows dance and writhe along the walls, cast by unseen sources, making familiar shapes appear menacing and distorted. The silence here is profound, an unsettling absence of the usual Hogwarts sounds, amplifying the soft echo of their own footsteps on the cold stone floor. Cobwebs hang like dusty shrouds in the corners and across doorways, and a thick layer of undisturbed dust coats every surface, hinting at a long period of abandonment. An eerie stillness permeates the deserted passage, creating an atmosphere that is undeniably spooky and sends a shiver of unease down their spines. ]

Caitria: Does anyone feel like we shouldn’t be here?

Evan leant closer to Regulus, his voice dropping to a barely audible whisper, his eyes wide as he glances around the spooky, deserted corridor.

"Something tells me," he murmured, his tone laced with a mixture of apprehension and a hint of dramatic flair, "that they're not meant to be there!"

He gestured vaguely towards the oppressive darkness and the air of long abandonment that hung heavy around them.

Regulus rolled his eyes almost imperceptibly in the dim light. He leant in slightly, his own whisper carrying a sharp edge of sarcasm.

"What possibly could have given you that extraordinarily insightful deduction, Evan?" He hissed back, his tone dry and laced with amusement at Evan's theatrical pronouncement. "Perhaps the cobwebs thick enough to trip over? Or the distinct lack of welcoming committee?"

Hermione: We’re not supposed to be here. This is the 3rd floor. It’s forbidden.

[Just as the unsettling silence begins to settle around Caitria, Ron, and Hermione, a sudden flicker of light erupts at the far end of the corridor. A torch, perched atop a tall, intricately carved stone support, bursts into vibrant life, casting dancing orange and yellow hues onto the dusty walls and revealing more of the eerie passage. The abrupt illumination startles them, momentarily breaking their focus.]

[In that very instant, a low, guttural meow pierces the stillness. A shadow darts from the deeper darkness, sleek and silent, until it resolves into the unmistakable form of Mrs. Norris, Filch's gaunt, grey-furred cat. Her eyes, glowing with an unnerving intensity in the torchlight, fix immediately on the trio. She lets out another, louder, more accusatory meow, her tail twitching with agitation. The sudden appearance of the feline sentinel, coupled with her piercing gaze and vocal disapproval, causes all three of them to jump, their earlier unease spiking into a jolt of pure surprise. Hermione gasps, stumbling back a step, while Ron lets out a startled yelp, Caitria, though maintaining a slightly more composed exterior, still flinches visibly, her hand instinctively moving towards her wand pocket. ]

Caitria: Let’s go.

[Mrs. Norris lets out another piercing meow, her gaze unwavering as she stares intently at Caitria, Ron, and Hermione. The sound echoes in the confined space, sharp and accusatory, as if she is personally offended by their presence in this deserted corridor. Her pink nose twitches, and her whiskers vibrate as she seems to assess them, her glowing eyes blinking slowly, deliberately, adding to the unsettling atmosphere. It's a sound that speaks of impending trouble, a silent alarm being raised in the otherwise silent depths of the forgotten passage.]

Hermione: It’s Filch’s cat!

“RUN!”

Caitria: Run!

“RUN AWAY AS FAST AS YOU CAN!”

“MOVE THOSE LEGS!”

[Panic flares in their chests at the sight and sound of Mrs. Norris. Without a word, the trio turns and flees down the spooky corridor. Their footsteps pound on the stone floor, the echoes chasing after them. As they sprint past each tall stone support, a torch mounted atop it bursts into sudden, vibrant flame. One by one, the corridor illuminates in a dramatic sequence, the flickering light casting long, distorted shadows that dance wildly alongside them, making the already eerie passage feel even more menacing. The sudden illumination reveals more of the dusty, neglected details – cobweb-draped archways, peeling portraits with accusing eyes, and the seemingly endless stretch of the passage ahead. They push themselves harder, their breath coming in ragged gasps, their eyes fixed on the faint outline of a door at the very end of the corridor, their only hope of escape from the watchful gaze of Filch's dreaded cat.]  

Ron: Quick! Let’s hide through that door!

[Ron reaches the end of the corridor, his hand shooting out to grasp the cold, ornate metal handle of the wooden door. Relief flickers across his face at the sight of a potential exit. He grips the handle firmly and twists, expecting it to turn smoothly. Instead, it remains stubbornly fixed in place. A frustrated grunt escapes his lips as he tries again, putting more force into the movement, but the mechanism refuses to budge. The heavy door is securely locked, their desperate dash ending in a frustrating dead end. The flickering torchlight behind them casts long shadows, highlighting their trapped predicament. ]

Ron: It’s locked!

Ron: That’s it! We’re done for!

Caitria: Oh, move over!

[Frustration tightening her jaw, Caitria doesn't hesitate. She steps forward, pushing Ron slightly aside, and swiftly draws her wand from within her robes. The polished wood gleams momentarily in the flickering torchlight as she raises it, the tip aimed directly at the stubborn lock.]

Caitria: Alohomora.

[A faint blue shimmer emanates from the tip of her wand, washing over the door's mechanism. A soft click echoes in the corridor as the lock magically disengages, the tumblers audibly shifting. Without waiting, Hermione shoves the door open wider, gesturing urgently with her wand.]

Caitria: Get in.

[Hermione and Ron don't need any further prompting. They scramble through the doorway, bustling past Caitria and into the unknown space beyond, their movements quick and desperate to escape the watchful eyes of Filch's feline informant.]

Ron: Alohomora?

Hermione: Standard Book of Spells, Chapter 7. How do you know it?

[Caitria pauses just inside the doorway, glancing back at Hermione with a raised eyebrow. Her expression holds a hint of amusement mixed with a touch of mild surprise at Hermione's uncharacteristically forceful command.]

Caitria: I read.

“I don’t like her!”

“Rude.”

Molly scoffed, “Miss Granger isn’t being rude! That Potter girl is too stupid to know that spell!”

“What the fuck?” James growled at the woman.

“Anyone who sneers at Dumbledore and can speak to snakes is stupid and evil, and doesn’t deserve to breath the same air as us!” Molly huffed and turned to her husband expecting him to take her side. But Arthur gave her a look of utter disgust and disappointment.

[Argus Filch, his jowly face contorted in a familiar scowl, shuffles into view, his lantern casting harsh shadows that dance across the dusty walls. Mrs. Norris, who had been pacing impatiently near the doorway, turns her glowing eyes towards her master, letting out a soft, almost triumphant meow, as if to announce her successful apprehension of intruders. Her tail twitches back and forth, a clear indication of her satisfaction at Filch's arrival. ]

Filch: Anyone here, my sweet?

[Mrs. Norris lets out another, more insistent meow, her gaze flicking between the doorway where the trio disappeared and Filch's approaching figure. It's a sharp, almost scolding sound, as if she's urging him to hurry and apprehend the miscreants before they can escape. Her tail flicks more rapidly now, her whole posture radiating a sense of self-importance and a clear demand for action.] 

Filch: Come on.

[Filch, his face a mask of grim determination, shuffles quickly down the deserted corridor, his lantern beam cutting through the gloom. Mrs. Norris trots silently at his heels, her keen eyes fixed on the doorway where the intruders vanished. Together, the disgruntled caretaker and his loyal feline companion disappear through the opening, leaving the spooky, deserted corridor once again shrouded in shadow and silence. ]

Hermione: Filch is gone.

Ron: Probably thinks this door’s locked.

Hermione: It was locked.

Caitria: And for good reason. 

[Inside the room beyond the magically unlocked door, the atmosphere shifts abruptly. The air here is thick with a heavy, musky scent, and a low, rumbling sound vibrates through the floor. Ron and Hermione turn from the doorway, their eyes widening in unison as they come to stand beside Caitria. Before them lies an immense creature, its sheer size dwarfing anything they've encountered before. It's a dog, but of nightmarish proportions, and impossibly, it possesses three massive heads, each resting on powerful, muscular necks.]

[The rumbling intensifies as the colossal beast begins to stir. One head twitches, its leathery lips peeling back to reveal rows of teeth as long as daggers. A deep, guttural growl rumbles from its chest, a sound that seems to shake the very air around them. Another head begins to lift, its eyes, the color of molten gold, slowly opening and blinking in the dim light filtering from the corridor. It lets out a cavernous yawn, stretching its jaws wide enough to swallow a person whole, followed by another, louder growl, this one laced with a note of annoyance at being disturbed.]

[The third head, initially still, now also begins to awaken, its nostrils twitching as it catches their scent. Its eyes snap open, fixing on the three intruders with an immediate and terrifying awareness. A low, menacing growl emanates from this head, deeper and more threatening than the others. All three sets of eyes, now fully open and alert, lock onto Caitria, Ron, and Hermione, the initial grogginess replaced by a dawning realization of their unwelcome presence. The massive three-headed dog is awake, and it knows they are there. ]  

Utter silence... that was until –

There were screeches everywhere. Students were holding onto each other as they screamed at the monstrous creature. They hoped it wasn’t in the castle at that very moment. The Professors all turned to look at Dumbledore with expressions that practically screamed ‘What the fuck are you thinking?’

The Professors weren’t the only ones. All adults, may they be Aurors, parents or the Minister himself. Their eyes were wide with astonishment as they watched as the three heads looked at the kids, holding their breaths in the dread that one of them may die.

“MERLIN’S BEARD.”

“WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?”

“Why would you have that in a school for children?” Euphemia and Walburga shrieked at the same time, as they turned to Dumbledore, together with McGonagall in outrage.

The headmaster didn’t show much reaction over what was occurring, because he was confident there was going to be a perfectly explained reason.

James stood up in fright, his teeth gritting at he stared the headmaster down only for his eyes to roll back into his head as he collapsed, distress for his daughter’s life taking over his body. He wasn’t the only one in that state, his three friends and parents, Lily and many others grabbed at each other as they hoped the best for the girl who had wormed her way into their hearts.

Hermione and Ron: AHHHHHHH!

Caitria: PUPPY! I WANT IT!! I WANT IT!!

There were many who, despite the situation, laughed.

James came too, his eyes looking everywhere. “Did I just hear my daughter cry out 'puppy'?”

Sirius nodded, his face pale. “Yep apparently she wants a puppy.” He shivered, “Mate, I beg of you buy her a crup or something, not a cerebus!”

[Despite the terrifying reality of the monstrous, three-headed dog now fully awake and glaring at them, a strange flicker crosses Caitria's face. Amidst the rising growls and the palpable danger, her gaze lingers for a fleeting moment on the central head, a wistful expression softening her features. It's as if, even in this perilous situation, a part of her is still captivated by the idea of a multi-headed canine.]

[However, the urgency of the moment quickly overrides this bizarre fascination. Hermione, her eyes wide with terror, grabs Caitria's arm with surprising strength. Ron, equally panicked, seizes her other arm. Without waiting for a response, they both pull Caitria backward with considerable force. Caitria stumbles, her initial reluctance overcome by the sheer momentum of their flight. They bolt back through the doorway, their feet pounding on the stone floor as they retreat into the dimly lit corridor.]

[Once they are all through, they spin around as one, their combined weight slamming the heavy wooden door shut against the enraged roars and snapping jaws echoing from within the room. They brace themselves against the door, their hands scrabbling for purchase on the cool wood as the monstrous dog on the other side throws its weight against it, making the entire frame shudder. With a final, desperate heave, they manage to secure the latch, the click echoing in the sudden silence that follows the dog's frustrated bellows. Without pausing to catch their breath, they turn and sprint back down the deserted corridor, the image of the snarling, three-headed beast burned into their minds.]

[They burst through the portrait hole of the Gryffindor Common Room, stumbling and gasping for air. Their chests heave, and their faces are flushed with exertion and lingering fear. They lean against the familiar velvet armchairs, their lungs burning, unable to speak for a moment as they try to regain their breath, the terrifying encounter still vividly playing out in their minds.]  

Ron: What do they think they’re doing? Keeping a thing like that locked up in a school.

Hermione: You don’t use your eyes, do you? Didn’t you see what it was standing on?

Ron: I wasn’t looking at its feet!

Caitria: Its cute, can we go back and pat it?

[Ron stares at Caitria, his expression a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. His eyebrows are raised so high they almost disappear into his fiery red hair, and his mouth hangs slightly open. He shakes his head slowly, a silent 'what was that about?' clearly written across his face. He glances from Caitria to the closed portrait hole, then back to her, a bewildered frown creasing his forehead. The sheer terror of their recent encounter with the monstrous dog seems momentarily overshadowed by his confusion at Caitria's strange, almost wistful reaction. ]

Ron: I was a bit preoccupied with its heads. Or maybe you didn’t notice. There were three! 

[Catching their breath slightly, the immediate shock of their near-death experience slowly receding, the trio begins the weary climb up the winding staircase that leads to the Gryffindor dormitories. Their movements are still a little shaky, their legs feeling heavy and unsteady after their frantic sprint. The usual comforting familiarity of the creaking wooden steps and the soft glow of the wall-mounted lanterns seems muted tonight, overshadowed by the lingering adrenaline and the vivid memory of the snarling, three-headed guardian. Each step upwards feels like an effort, the silence between them punctuated only by their ragged breathing and the soft thud of their feet on the worn treads. The unspoken terror of what they just faced hangs heavy in the air, a palpable tension accompanying their slow ascent. ]  

Hermione: It was standing on a trapdoor. Which means it wasn’t there by accident. It’s guarding something.

Caitria: Guarding something?

Hermione: That’s right. Now, if you two don’t mind, I’m going to bed before either of you come up with another clever idea to get us killed. Or worse, expelled.

[Reaching the landing that leads to the girls' dormitories, Hermione pauses briefly, a thoughtful frown still etched on her face. She glances at Caitria and Ron, a silent acknowledgment of their shared ordeal. Then, with a quiet sigh, she turns and heads towards her own room. She pushes open the door, steps inside, and with a soft click, closes it behind her, leaving Caitria and Ron standing alone on the dimly lit landing. The unspoken tension of their recent adventure lingers in the air between them. ]

Ron: She needs to sort out her priorities.

[Caitria offers a small, almost imperceptible nod, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the person speaking. Her attention, however, is far from the current conversation. Instead, her mind paints a vivid picture: a fluffy, undeniably adorable puppy. Not just any puppy, but one with three small, inquisitive heads, each sporting mismatched floppy ears. One head playfully gnaws on a tiny, imaginary bone, while another tilts curiously, its soft brown eyes wide with innocent wonder. The third head lets out a series of miniature yips, a sound so high-pitched and sweet it makes Caitria's lips twitch into a faint, involuntary smile. She can almost feel the soft, downy fur beneath her fingertips, imagine the chaotic tangle of three little tails wagging with unrestrained enthusiasm. The words of the person in front of her fade into a muffled background hum as Caitria is completely lost in this delightful mental image of the tri-cephalic canine.]  

As they sat there watching Amelia Bones, Alastor Moody and the other Aurors were all taking notes on the events happening within the walls of the castle. They were not liking what they were seeing by any means.

“I think my granddaughter may be the one who needs to sort out her priorities.” Euphemia whispered her eyes wide and face still colourless.

Chapter Text

[Outside in the courtyard, day time. Oliver and Caitria appear, carrying a trunk. They put it down.]

Oliver: Quidditch is easy enough to understand. Each time has seven players. Three Chasers, two Beaters, one Keeper and a Seeker. That's you. There are three kinds of balls. [picks up a red one] This one's called the Quaffle. Now, the chasers handle the Quaffle and try to put it through one of those three hoops. [Points to the hoops in the Quidditch pitch in the distance.] The keeper, that's me, defends the hoops. [throws ball to Caitria.] With me so far?

Sirius’ jaw fell, “why can’t you be more like him?” He asked James who just pouted and crossed his arms.

Jason Wood, the obvious future father of Oliver, blinked several times before grinning. His son was a born Quidditch player just like him. Since the beginning of his sixth year, he had received many job offers from Quidditch teams for after graduation.

Caitria: [throws back] I think so. What are those? [points to two squirming chained down balls.]

Oliver: You better take this. [hands Caitria a small bat. He bends down and releases one ball. With an angry growl, it flies off into the air. The two of them watch it.] Careful now, it's coming back.

[The balls comes whizzing down, and Caitria cracks at it with the bat. The ball soars off through a statue, surprisingly without damaging it.]

Oliver: Not bad, Potter. You'd make a fair Beater. Uh–oh.

“Not bad? That was bloody brilliant!” Sirius and Marlene, Gryffindor’s two Beaters exclaimed.

“Damn Potter, your daughter could be a whole Quidditch team if we duplicate her!” Frank laughed.

[The ball zooms down, and Oliver grabs it, wriggling to get it back in the box. He succeeds and is out of breath.]  

“Is it wrong of me to think that was hot?” Alice asked Marlene.

Marlene shook her head, “Hell no, that boy is fiiinnneee.”

Jason blushed, sinking further into his seat.

Caitria: What was that?

Oliver: Bludger. Nasty little buggers. But you are a Seeker. And the only thing I want you to worry about is this. The Golden Snitch. [hands Caitria a walnut sized golden ball.] 

Caitria: I like this ball.

Oliver: Ah, you like it now. Just wait. It's wicked fast and damn near impossible to see.

Caitria: What do I do with it?

Oliver: You catch it. Before the other team's Seeker. You catch this, the game is over. You catch this, Potter, and we win.

[The ball flutters out two delicate wings and jumps into the air. Caitria keeps an eye on it.]  

“How is she keeping up with it?” Regulus asked amazed.

“I don’t see how it’s hard, I can see it!” Molly scoffed.

A letter appeared in the banshee’s lap and she gasped as she read it. Arthur unsure on her reaction, read the letter out loud, his eyes widening in disbelief, a startled laugh escaping his throat.

That’s because it’s from Caitria’s eyes! Seriously the sooner Father divorces you and Aunt Muriel disowns you from the Prewett family the better. We are disgusted in having you as our mother!

Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron and Ginny Weasley

Fred and George Prewett  

“Even our children hate you!” Arthur hummed. “To the point that the twins take your maiden–name.”

Fabian smirked, “that makes sense, only a pair of Magical twins can hold the titles Lord/s Prewett. Muriel is probably just the regent for our family.”

Caitria: Whoa!

[In Professor Flitwick's class. Filtwick is very short, and is standing on a bunch of books to make up for his stature and to see his class.]

Flitwick: One of a wizard's most rudimentary skills is levitation, or the ability to make objects fly. Uh, do you have your feathers? [Hermione raises hers.] Good. Now, uh, don't forget the nice wrist movement we've been practising. Hmm? The swish and flick. Everyone.

All (including Flitwick): The swish and flick.

Flitwick: Good. Oh, and enunciate. Wingardium Leviosa. Off you go, then.

[The class begin to enunciate and doing the movements on their feathers]

Draco: Wingardium Levio–saaa.

All: Wingardium Leviosa.

Ron: Wingardrium Leviosar! [He waves his wand really fast numerous times because he thinks the spell didn't work. Hermione stops him.]

Hermione: No, stop, stop, stop! You're going to take someone's eye out. Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's Levi–o–sa, not Leviosar.

Arthur turned to his wife, “well aren’t you going to huff and puff about her being rude?”

Molly glared at her husband hateful but didn’t say a word.

Ron: You do it, then, if you're so clever. Go on, go on.

“Ooff, don’t ever challenge a woman!” Fleamont shuddered.

Abraxas, Orion, Arthur, Roldolphus, James, Sirius and Remus all shivered as well, all having made that mistake once or twice.

[Hermione straightens up and swishes her wand.]

Hermione: Wingardium Leviosa. [The feather glows and lifts up, joining another.]

Flitwick: Oh, well done! See here, everyone, Miss Granger's done it! Oh, splendid! Oh, and so has Ms. Potter!

Molly rolled her eyes, “of course that brat had to steal Hermione’s spotlight!”

Walburga sent a stinging hex at the banshee, “will you shut the hell up you stupid hag!”

Sirius stared at his mother as if seeing her in a new light. The woman turned to see her son’s expression and sent him a cheeky wink.

Orion watched his wife and eldest, a soft smile on his face. ‘All may not be lost.’

Severus’ eyes narrowed on the screen and Molly. While he wanted to hate Caitria due to who her father was, he found himself liking the girl. She was just like him, making the most of her time in the Wizardry World, never knowing when will be her last day there.

[Caitria blushes as she lowers her feather down. Ron at his desk, puts his head on his books dejectedly. Seamus begins swishing at his feather.]

Seamus: Wingard Leviosa. Wingar–

Flitwick: Well, done, dear.

[An almighty explosion flashes. Flitwick gasps, as Ron and Hermione turn to the source of the explosion]  

Flitwick: Whooaaa! Ooh.

[We see that Seamus is charred again with his feather, now smouldering to ashes.]  

Dean: I think we're going to need another feather over here, Professor.

“No shit Sherlock.” Lily muttered.

[Neville, Caitria, Ron and Seamus are walking through a courtyard with other students all around.]

Ron: [mimicking Hermione] "It's Levioooosa, not Leviosaaaar." [normal voice] She's a nightmare, honestly! No wonder she hasn't got any friends!

Arthur sighed, “that has to be your fault.” He said to Molly. “My children are correct, the sooner she is gone the better.” He whispered the second part so lowly that the thing he called wife didn’t hear.

[Hermione rushes past Ron, hugging her books and sniffling in tears.]

Caitria: Ron, that is not very nice of you to say, even if she hadn’t heard you, which she did.

[Hermione disappears into the crowd, deeply hurt by Ron's words.]

Chapter Text

[That Halloween night, the great hall has floating Jack O'Lanterns in place of the candles. Caitria notices an empty spot on the bench.]  

Caitria: Where's Hermione?

Neville: Parvati Patil said that she wouldn't come out of the girl's bathroom. She said that she'd been in there all afternoon, crying.

[Caitria glances at Ron with a disapproving look on her face; Ron shrugs. Suddenly, Professor Quirrell comes running into the Great Hall in panic.]

Quirrell: TROLL! IN THE DUNGEON! T–TROOLLL IN THE DUNGEON! [Dumbledore rises from his seat in concern. Everyone looks at Quirrell and he stops and there is utter silence.] Thought you ought to know.

“That’s the DADA professor for 1991?” Amelia Bones asked, her tone borderline murderous.

“Hogwarts’ gone down the drain, truly.” Abraxas scoffed.

“A TROLL? HOW IN HADES’ NAME DID A CREATURE THAT DAFT GET INSIDE?”

“The Wards, they should have prevented such an action.” 

[Quirrell passes out in fear. The great hall goes silent, and then everyone freaks out, screaming and running.]

Dumbledore: SILLLLLEEENNNNCEEEEE! [Everyone stops and calms down.] Everyone will please not panic! Now, prefects will lead their house back to the dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the dungeons.

“WHAT?” Regulus stood up, his grey eyes sparkling in rage. “That’s where the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs sleep!”

“Have you lost your mind you old coot?” Fleamont snarled.

“Do you even care?” Bellatrix sneered.

Caitria: Wait, the Slytherin and Hufflepuff dorms are in the dungeons – you know where the troll is! [Caitria scoffs at the stupidity of the Headmaster, thinking to herself that it would be safer for all students to stay in the hall until the Troll is dealt with]

Regulus glowered at the Headmaster, his heart bursting at the girl, she definitely hadn’t belonged in Gryffindor, she cared too much for the house of green to have belonged in the house of red. 

Girl: Hufflepuff, this way!

Boy: Stay together!

[Snape looks aghast, and he walks out through a doorway. A bit later, Percy is leading the Gryffindors down a dark corridor.]  

Percy: Gryffindors, keep up, please, and stay alert!

Caitria: How could a troll get in?

Ron: Not on its own. Trolls are really stupid. Probably people playing jokes. [Suddenly, Caitria stops and pulls Ron aside.] What?

Caitria: Hermione! She doesn't know!

“No don’t!”

“Stupid child.”

“Shut up hag.”

“Get a professor.”

“Don’t be a bloody hero!”

[The two separate themselves from the crowd. They run down corridors. They start running down a hall when they stop because there's a grunting noise coming from a large shadow on the wall.]

Ron: I think the troll's left the dungeon! 

[Caitria pulls Ron into a doorway, they peer out to see a large, ugly troll thunks by into a room.]  

Caitria: It's going into the girl's bathroom!

“Why didn’t they get a teacher?”

Regulus snorted, “have you seen the teachers. They are incompetent at best. Except for maybe Snape and McGonagall, but then again McGonagall might have sniffed a bit too much catnip because I get the feeling that her decisions will be lacking.”

McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout all looked down in shame while Dumbledore just smiled like the senile grandfather he was.

[In the girl's bathroom, Hermione emerges from a stall, wiping her eyes. She stops when she sees something. The troll is standing there. Hermione backs up into the stall just as the troll raises its club and smashes the top part of the stalls. Hermione screams in terror. Caitria and Ron come bursting in.]  

Caitria: Hermione, move! 

[The troll smashes the remaining stalls.]  

Hermione: Help! Help! [The two of them start throwing wood pieces at the troll.] 

Ron: Hey, pea brain! [Ron throws wood and hits the troll on the head. Hermione escapes from the stalls to under a sink, but the troll sees her and then comes over to smash her. It cracks the sink and barely misses Hermione. Caitria cringes.]

Hermione: [screams] Help!

[Caitria gets out her wand. She runs forward and grabs the troll's club and is lifted up.]  

“ARE YOU CRAZY?”

“I CAN’T WATCH, SOMEBODY REMOVE MY EYES!”

Many of them were using each other as shields, hiding their faces in chests, under arms, in hair and some going as far as using cushions and pillows.

“If she died, I’m bringing her back to life just to scold her.”

James overheard Barty’s whisper and had to agree with the boy. If this was the end of his daughter, Death would feel his wrath.

Caitria: Whoa! [She lands on the troll's shoulders and is hurled around back and forth.] 

[Caitria's wand shoots up the troll's nose. The troll groans in disgust.]

Ron: Ew!

[Ron and Hermione were disgusted by Caitria’s wand in the troll’s nose. The troll snorts, and whips around.]

Caitria: Whoa, whoa–whoa!

[The troll gets Caitria off its shoulders and is holding her by one leg, upside down.]  

“Bloody hell, ease your grip, woman. You need to cut your talons!” James yelped as Lily dug her nails into his arm, her eyes wide in fright.

Caitria: Do something!

[It gears up its club and swipes at Caitria. She pulls herself up, then down.]

Ron: What?

“Where are the others? Where are the professors?” Euphemia cried, terrified for her granddaughter. The granddaughter she was blessed at being able to see despite the fact that by this point, her and her husband had already perished.

“Damn talk about a workout!”

Barty and several others glared at Fabian, smirking with glee when the older male eeked and slumped back against his chair.

“What’s up with you two?” Evan asked Barty and Regulus who had to be the two with the harshest glares despite the girl being the daughter of Potter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Regulus huffed looking away.

Barty just shrugged; in all honesty he didn’t know what was wrong with him. She was nineteen or twenty years his junior and the daughter of the biggest menaces the school had ever seen. But every time she smiled his heart soared.

Regulus on the other hand knew what was up with him, but unknowingly to him, Barty’s thoughts were identical to those of his own.

Caitria: Anything! [the troll swipes at Caitria again] Hurry up!

[Ron grabs his wand. Under the sink, Hermione waves her hand.]

Hermione: Swish and flick!

“Don’t get him to do it!”

“He might blow her up!”

“Sirius, that’s Seamus.”

Ron: [correctly punctuating the words] Wingardium Leviosa! 

[Flick of his wrist! The troll's club is lifted out of one of his hands and hovers above its head. The troll looks at his hand and opens it, then looks up, confused, just as the club comes crashing back down.]

Ron: Cool.

[The club hits the troll's head that hard and the troll wavers, then drops Caitria, who crawls away, and slowly comes crashing down, knocked out. Hermione approaches carefully.]  

Hermione: Is it dead?

Caitria: I don't think so. Just knocked out. [She grabs her wand which is covered in mucus.] Ugh! Troll bogies.

Everyone released the breaths they were holding as they sat paralysed. The tense silence was broken by none other than Cygnus, “Did that really just happen?”

The others could only numbly nod back.

‘This girl is going to give me grey hairs!’ James thought, sighing in relief at the sight of his daughter safe.

“Gross.”

“I’d be sanitising my wand after that.”

[Caitria wipes her wand on the troll’s pants. Suddenly, McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell come rushing in. They all gasp at the knocked–out troll.]

McGonagall: Oh! Oh, my goodness! Explain yourselves, both of you!

“No, I think it is you,” Minchum glared at the teachers present, “who need to explain yourselves. Three children just took down a troll, one that managed to get inside the safest place in Britain besides Gringotts! What do you have to say for yourselves?”

Ron and Caitria: Well, what it is...

Hermione: It's my fault, Professor McGonagall. [The teachers, Ron and Caitria look at her.]

McGonagall: Miss Granger?

Hermione: I went looking for the troll. I'd read about them and thought I could handle it. But I was wrong. If Caitria and Ron hadn't come and found me, I'd probably be dead.

“Mmm, maybe the bushy–haired girl is good for something.” Lucius sneered.

McGonagall: Be that as it may, it was an extremely foolish thing to do. [Caitria notices Snape's leg, which has the trousers' leg torn and a large cut on it. Snape notices and covers it up, glaring at Caitria.] I would've expected more rational behaviour on your part and am very disappointed in you, Miss Granger. Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for your serious lack of judgment. [she turns to Caitria and Ron] As for you two, I just hope you realize how fortunate you are. Not many first–year students could take on a fully grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. Five points will be awarded to each of you... [Caitria and Ron grin at each other] ... for sheer dumb luck.

“That’s all?”

“You shouldn’t have taken any points.”

McGonagall sighed, ‘Its in the future.’ 

[Snape and McGonagall leave the bathroom]

Quirrell: Perhaps you ought to go. It m–might wake up. Heh. [Caitria, Ron and Hermione exit the bathroom. Quirrell looks at the unconscious troll. The troll growls, seemingly going to wake up.] Ahh! Hehe....

Someone – most likely Evan or Rabastan threw food at the screen only to groan as it disappeared through the hologram.

“Pathetic!”

“Get out of Hogwarts!”

“If this is the Headmaster’s choice, I fear for the future of the school.” Cygnus muttered.

[Caitria, Ron and Hermione are walking back to the Gryffindor Common Room through the corridor.]

Caitria: [to Hermione] Good for you to get us out of trouble like that.

Ron: Mind you, I mean, we did save her life.

Caitria: Mind you, she didn't need saving if you hadn't insulted her.

[Hermione looks at Ron.]

Ron: What are friends for?

“That there is the ultimate friendship goal.”

A new voice joined those in the room. “Yes well, friends that almost perish together... seem to stay together.”

Everyone whipped around to see a beautiful woman. Her tanned – yet still pale... many weren’t sure how that worked but on her it did – skin and long dark eyelashes made her exotic green eyes glow bright. Her hair – a bright auburn, richer than that of her mother’s, had highlights of gold and brown – sat on top of her head with her wand holding it into place. You could see that she was fit, might have been all of that Quidditch, but either way – she was lithe but wasn’t overly tall unlike her parents. However, they all knew not to let her lack of height fool you, she wasn’t someone to trifle with.

“Hi, I am Caitria Potter.”

[They both smile at each other as they carry on through the corridor.]

Chapter Text

Dumbledore stood up first and made his way towards the woman. Her green eyes narrowed down on him; her lip curled up in a sneer.

“Hello my dea–”

He was cut off by his own beard wrapping around his head enough times to cover his eyes, ears, mouth and nose.

“Yeah, I’m not your anything.”

“How dare you! I am Albus –”

“Albus too many names Dumbledore, I know who you are.”

Albus’ weariness had curdled into a simmering fury. This was his domain, his carefully orchestrated world, and this audacious woman dared to trespass, to flout his explicit instructions, to unravel the intricate tapestry of his long-laid plans. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he extended his formidable mental tendrils, intending to probe the depths of Caitria's thoughts. The instant his consciousness brushed against hers, however, he recoiled as if physically struck.

It wasn't a mere shielding he encountered, but a veritable fortress. A towering, impenetrable brick wall, mortared with an unyielding will, encircled her mind. It stood as an absolute barrier, daring anyone to attempt entry without her express consent. The sheer audacity of such a powerful, self-imposed Occlumency slammed into him. There was no subtle probing, no gentle persuasion possible. To even attempt Legilimency without her permission would be akin to hurling oneself against an ironclad wall – futile and undoubtedly painful.

Suddenly, Caitria's head snapped up, her gaze locking onto Dumbledore's with an unnerving intensity. Her eyes, the colour of a stormy sea, seemed to pierce through his own, assessing, perhaps even challenging. A slow, deliberate shake of her head followed, a silent but unequivocal refusal. It was a gesture that spoke volumes – defiance, control, and a clear message that she would not be so easily read, so easily manipulated. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air, a tangible manifestation of the battle of wills silently raging between them.

The subtle tremor of her head, the almost imperceptible movement, held a weight of menace that eclipsed any overt action she had taken thus far. It was a quiet promise of retribution, a stark declaration of boundaries that resonated with chilling clarity.

Her voice, when it came, was low and steady, each word imbued with a lethal calm that mirrored the very air around the one who had orchestrated their gathering. "If you wish to keep your head, Dumbledore," she stated, her gaze never wavering from his, "you'd do well to never attempt that shit with me again."

A sharp gasp escaped Molly Weasley's lips. Her eyes, previously wide with apprehension, now narrowed into venomous slits as they fixed on Caitria.

"YOU DISGUSTING GIRL! DUMBLE–"

The indignant outburst abruptly ceased. Not merely silenced by a magical binding, but eradicated. Molly's mouth vanished. One moment it was there, contorted in outrage, the next, it was gone, leaving behind only smooth, unbroken skin beneath her nose, an unsettling expanse of utter nothingness, like the pristine cheek of a newborn.

Caitria sighed, a sound of weary exasperation. "I forgot how much you kissed Albus' arse, Molly." Her gaze flickered towards the now-speechless witch. "I swear, if he were a woman and you a child, you'd be attached to his breast, suckling all day long."

A ripple of suppressed snickers echoed through the tense room. Caitria's cheeks flushed a delicate pink as the full weight of her uncharacteristically loud pronouncement settled upon her. Her eyes darted around the assembled figures, a surprised tilt of laughter escaping her lips.

"Of course," she murmured, a wry amusement coloring her tone, "of course he'd bring you here."

Her gaze swept across the assembled figures. Familiar faces mingled with a sea of the unknown. Caitria's eyes, sharp and assessing, lingered on each individual, a knot tightening in her chest at the sight of some. Their innocent gazes were a potent force, threatening to crack the carefully constructed walls around her heart, walls built brick by painful brick over years.

A movement drew her attention. James, taller now than she remembered, stood and walked towards her. His fully grown daughter. Caitria's breath hitched. Her eyes widened, her mouth falling slightly ajar. She stood frozen, so utterly still she could have been mistaken for a meticulously crafted waxwork, or worse, a victim of the dreaded petrification curse.

"Bambi?" His voice was a hesitant whisper, thick with emotion.

Something inside Caitria shattered. For the first time in her remembered life, a primal urge took over. She launched herself at him, a cry escaping her lips, her arms and legs wrapping around his torso in a desperate, bone-crushing grip. Fear, sharp and visceral, clawed at her – if she let go, he would vanish, dissolve back into the cruel ether of what-was.

But James held her just as fiercely, his own arms tightening around her slender frame. He wouldn't let her go. Not now. Not ever, if he had his way. He ran a comforting hand up and down her back, murmuring words of love and reassurance, a steady anchor in her storm of disbelief. She clung to him as if he were a phantom, a precious dream she feared would dissipate with the slightest movement.

He hugged her tighter, wanting to imprint the reality of her presence onto her very being. This was real. Merlin's beard! He was holding his eighteen-year-old daughter, when he himself was only seventeen. A bewildering, miraculous truth. Tears welled in his eyes, and he buried his face in the fragrant mess of her hair. He would give her anything. Anything she needed. She was a Potter, and Potters protected their own. And she was his.

"Sshh, Bambi, my precious fawn," he mumbled against her hair, his voice thick with unshed tears.

A familiar, bright voice cut through the emotional haze. "Move over, Potter. I want to hug my daughter too."

Caitria pulled back from her father, blinking through her own tears, to see her mother. Lily. Her mother, with her vibrant, emerald eyes, and more importantly, alive. She was walking towards them, a radiant smile gracing her lips.

"My baby!" Lily cried, her arms outstretched.

James smiled wistfully, a profound tenderness softening his features as Lily reached them. "My girls," he murmured, drawing Lily into the embrace, his long arms wrapping around both of them in a protective circle. "Bambi... we are so incredibly proud of you."

"Oh, my darling girl," Lily whispered, stroking Caitria's cheek, "you are so beautiful."

A watery laugh escaped Caitria's lips. "Me? Now I finally understand Dad's obsession – look at you."

James chuckled, a genuine, joyful sound that warmed Caitria's heart. Lily blushed, a delicate pink tinting her cheeks. "Oh, hush you two," she said, though a smile played on her lips. "Such a smooth talker, my daughter."

Caitria grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Maybe Dad could learn a thing or two."

A wave of laughter rippled through the room, the tension momentarily broken. Of course, the perpetually stiff-backed – Dumbledore, Molly, and Fudge – remained conspicuously unamused, though even Molly’s eyes held a suspicious sheen.

Caitria finally detached herself from the comforting embrace of her parents and turned to face the rest of the room. A maelstrom of emotions churned within her. She wanted to scream at some, embrace others, and perhaps unleash a few well-aimed curses at a select few. But one overwhelming realization settled upon her: many of the faces before her looked… better. Younger, less burdened.

Watching Bellatrix Black, a young woman untouched by Azkaban's horrors, moving with a carefree grace, was unsettlingly strange. Yet, the Potter Heiress couldn't deny the woman looked healthier, even happier.

Her gaze drifted to her teenage Potions Master, his features sharper, his eyes holding the same intense intelligence, but without the perpetual weariness she remembered. 'Damn,' she thought with a jolt, 'he really did always have that… vampire vibe.' It wasn't the stereotypical, lurid image, but a certain dark, compelling intensity. He was a creature of the shadows, yes, but in a way that held a strange allure, nothing like the repulsive, lurking presence of Filch.

Sirius Black actually possessed teeth that were startlingly white, and his usually unruly hair was tamed, falling in a surprisingly neat cascade around his handsome face. Merlin, he looked like a different person. Remus Lupin’s face held significantly fewer scars, and Caitria’s heart squeezed at the stark reminder of the unimaginable pain that awaited him after Samhain of 1981.

Without conscious thought, she all but ran towards Sirius, throwing her arms around him in a hug so fierce she could have sworn she felt a rib or two protest.

"Hello again, Sirius," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

The boyish grin she remembered spread across his face, and he hugged her back with equal enthusiasm. "Hello, mischief."

Caitria beamed, a genuine smile finally breaking through her lingering shock. She moved on to Remus, embracing him warmly.

"Hello, Remmy. Read any good books lately?"

Remus laughed, a light, youthful sound she hadn't heard in her time, and ruffled her hair affectionately.

"Not the hair!" She protested playfully.

An older woman’s gentle giggle drew her attention. "Yes, Remus, you should know better than to mess with the Potter hair."

Caitria froze, her gaze locking onto a couple she had never seen before, not even in faded photographs. Yet, an undeniable sense of recognition flooded through her. These were her grandparents. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter.

"H–hi," Caitria stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

Euphemia beamed, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she rushed forward, enveloping Caitria in a hug that felt as warm and encompassing as sunshine. The pure, unadulterated love radiating from the Potter matriarch washed over Caitria’s fractured heart, a soothing balm on old wounds. The healing had a long way to go, but surrounded by her parents, her uncles, and now her grandparents… it wouldn't take quite so long.

"So, Ms. Potter…"

Green eyes, the exact shade of her mother's, locked onto the beady, self-important gaze of Cornelius Fudge. Those watching could have sworn a flicker of emerald fire ignited within her gem-like orbs.

"Fudge," she stated, the single word dripping with a disdain that belied her age.

"Why would we be here, privy to the… intricacies of your life?" Fudge puffed out his chest, his voice laced with indignation.

Caitria shrugged, a picture of nonchalance. "Maybe because Lady Magic has a rather low tolerance for incompetence, and it seems she's decided someone competent should be the Minister. So, damn, looks like you're out of a job. Amelia, fancy a promotion?"

Cornelius stood there, his jaw slack with disbelief, while Amelia Bones bit her lip fiercely to suppress a laugh. Minchum, on the other hand, made no attempt to hide his utter contempt for the man beside him, a sneer twisting his usually severe features.

Caitria ignored the sputtering man and gracefully made her way towards the cluster of Slytherin boys. Observing their expressions, a small, knowing smirk played on her lips at their obvious blushes and wide, awe-filled eyes.

The Black sisters exchanged amused glances, while their respective husbands, fiancés, and the other young men subtly straightened their robes and attempted to smooth down their hair – a largely hopeless endeavor for some.

"Nice to see you again, Cissy, Andy. Bella, you look… better," Caitria said, her tone carefully neutral, though a hint of something else flickered in her eyes.

The three sisters nodded, smiles gracing their lips. Bellatrix, however, held a palpable confusion, though she wisely kept her questions to herself… for now.

"Barty, Reggie, Lucy," Caitria paused, her gaze lingering on Barty Crouch Junior and Regulus Black, who both offered polite smiles and bowed, each pressing a kiss to the back of her offered hand.

She grinned and winked at them before her attention landed on the flamboyant blonde. "Still bleaching your hair in the future, I see."

Lucius Malfoy’s usually composed face registered utter astonishment, while Caitria giggled, shooting another conspiratorial wink at Bellatrix, who looked positively gleeful that someone else was finally taking the piss out of the arrogant prat.

"You must be Rabastan and Evan. Sadly, I never had the pleasure of meeting you two."

The two young men nodded, mirroring their friends' actions, each bowing and kissing her hand, their eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Shall we continue watching?" Caitria asked Professor McGonagall, who stood nearby, a soft smile gracing her lips.

The Transfiguration professor nodded, a flick of her wand setting the memories in motion once more.

Caitria sighed contentedly and settled onto a nearby armchair. On one side sat her newly reunited family, a warm, comforting presence. On the other, the intriguing and surprisingly charming Slytherins.

The future, once a stark and terrifying certainty, was now a swirling vortex of possibilities, thanks to Lady Magic and her memories of a timeline that would soon be nothing more than ash. But amidst the uncertainty, one truth resonated deep within Caitria's soul. Magic was real, a vibrant force woven into the fabric of their existence. And yet, none of it held a candle to the potent, transformative power of love. It truly was the strongest magic of all.

Chapter Text

“We get to see my Bambi’s first game... yay!”

“Our daughter Potter!”

“Nope, she’s flying therefore she’s mine.”

[The next morning, in the great hall. The gang is sitting, eating. Caitria is twirling her food on a fork.]

Ron: Take a bit of toast, mate, go on.

Hermione: Ron's right, Caitria. You're gonna need your strength today.

Caitria: I'm not hungry.

“Ms. Potter,” Orion Black's voice, surprisingly gentle, cut through the lingering tension in the room. His usually sharp grey eyes fixed on Caitria's, holding a surprising note of concern. “That isn't healthy. You need to eat something.”

Caitria merely shrugged, her gaze flicking away. “I was nervous as hell,” she admitted, the tremor in her voice betraying the lingering anxiety of reliving her past. “There was no way I was keeping food down.”

She ran a hand through her already disheveled hair. “My stomach felt like it was doing the tango with a flock of angry butterflies.”

[Snape appears at the table.]

Snape: Good luck today, Potter. Then again, now that you've proven yourself against a troll, a little game of Quidditch should be easy work for you. Even if it is against Slytherin. [Snape walks off, limping. Caitria notices this.]

Regulus and Barty both stared at the teen version of the sour man.

“I haven’t done anything.”

The duo, plus Caitria, all shrugged and teasinly sang, “yet.”

Caitria: That explains the blood.

Hermione: Blood?

Caitria: Listen, last night, I'm guessing Snape let the troll in as a diversion so he could try and get past that three headed dog. But he got himself bitten, that's why he's limping. Either that or he went to stop whoever did... [She started to jump up and down] No that’s it. He wanted to play with the puppy.

Hermione: But why would anyone go near that thing?

[Caitria looks at Hermione a slight frown on her face. The puppy is adorable, she can imagine playing fetch, being tossed up in the air. The puppy is going to be her new best friend and it hurts that Hermione cannot see the peaceful creature that the puppy is.]

James turned fully to face his daughter, his brow furrowed with concern. "Bambi," he said, his voice firm but laced with worry, "I think I need to have you checked out. Just to be sure everything's alright after… well, everything."

Caitria raised a single eyebrow, her emerald gaze meeting his squarely. The unspoken question hung in the air between them, a silent, pointed accusation that clearly conveyed, ‘Yeah and whose fault is that?’

A sheepish blush crept up James's neck and spread across his cheeks. He knew exactly what she meant.

[Ron just gives her another of his famous WTF looks while Hermione shakes her head]

Caitria: The day I was at Gringotts, Hagrid took something out of one of the vaults. He said it was Hogwarts' business, very secret.

Hermione: So, you're saying...

Caitria: That's what the dog's guarding. That's what Snape wants. Booo, it’d be more fun to play with the puppy.

[Hedwig screeches as she enters the Great Hall. She is carrying a very large, long parcel. She drops it off at the table.]

Hermione: Bit early for mail, isn't it?

Caitria: But I... I never get mail.

Ron: Let's open it.

[They open it to reveal a broomstick.]

Caitria: It's a broomstick!

Ron: Thats not just any broomstick, Caitria. [recognizing the model] It's a Nimbus 2000!

A chorus of voices erupted from the Quidditch enthusiasts in the room, their eyes wide with fervent desire.

“I WANT IT!” they yelled in unison, a palpable wave of longing washing over the space.

Caitria laughed, a bright, unrestrained sound, shaking her head at their enthusiasm. “Nah,” she corrected them teasingly, a playful glint in her eyes. “You want the Firebolt.”

With a flick of her wrist, she detached a small, intricately carved charm of a broomstick from her bracelet. A whispered incantation, and the tiny charm began to grow, expanding until a magnificent, full-sized broom materialized before them.

Regulus and Rabastan, standing closest, were practically drooling. Their gazes swept over the sleek perfection of the Firebolt: the flawlessly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that formed the tail, fanning out with elegant precision; the ebony handle, polished to a deep, lustrous sheen that seemed to absorb the light. It was a masterpiece of broom-making.

James and Sirius, drawn by the sudden appearance of the impressive broom, came over to peer at it. Their jaws dropped in unison, mirroring the awe on the faces of the other Quidditch fanatics.

“It's so beautiful...” James murmured, his voice hushed with reverence, his hand trembling slightly as he reached out, as if hesitant to touch something so exquisite.

Caitria smirked, a touch of pride in her expression. “Yep,” she confirmed, patting the smooth handle affectionately. “This bad boy hasn't lost me a game yet, and it's gotten me out of some pretty tricky situations too.”

James perked up at the mention of its capabilities, his Quidditch-loving mind already racing with possibilities. But Sirius, ever the keen observer and fellow Quidditch enthusiast, latched onto the one part of her statement she hadn't intended him to focus on.

“You lost a game?” He asked, his brow furrowing in mock disbelief, a hint of teasing in his voice.

Caitria's smile faltered, and she let out a dramatic pout. “Yep,” she confirmed, her voice laced with mock sorrow. “Due to outside interference. My beloved Nimbus died that day.”

Caitria: But who...

[She notices Professor McGonagall up at the head table, stroking Hedwig. She smiles and Caitria nods.]

“See Minnie, I knew you loved me.” James cheered, grinning at the Transfiguration teacher.

“No, I just love the House Cup,” McGonagall cheekily replied.

[Later on, inside a Quidditch tower, the Gryffindor team is marching toward the starting gate. They reach it and stop, behind a closed double door.]

Oliver: Scared, Caitria?

Caitria: A little.

Oliver: That's all right. I felt the same way before my first game.

Caitria: What happened?

Oliver: Er, I don't really remember. I took a Bludger to the head two minutes in. Woke up in the hospital a week later.

“HOW THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO CALM HER?” Regulus bellowed, his composure finally cracking. His jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with utter disbelief at whatever had just transpired in the memories.

He whipped his head around, his gaze sweeping over the small contingent of his Quidditch teammates who were present. Their faces mirrored his own shock and bewilderment, each one sporting an expression of utter incredulity. It was clear they were all struggling to process whatever chaotic scene had just unfolded.

[Caitria gulps and looks straight ahead as the doors open. They mount their brooms and zoom out onto the enormous pitch. There is cheering. Lee Jordan, the Quidditch commentator is announcing from a tower.]

Lee: Hello! And welcome to Hogwarts' first Quidditch game of the season! Today's game, Slytherin vs. Gryffindor!

[There is a close-up of Gryffindor students cheering.]

Neville: Gryffindor!

[The players take their positions in the air in a circle. Caitria weaves in, highest amongst. She looks down.]

Lee: The players take their positions as Madam Hooch steps out onto the field to begin the game!

Hooch: Now, I want a nice, clean game from all of you! [looks at Slytherin. She kicks the trunk, and the Bludgers zoom out.]

Lee: The Bludgers are up, followed by the Golden Snitch. Remember, the Snitch is worth 150 points. The Seeker who catches the Snitch ends the game.

[The Snitch zooms around each Seeker's head, then disappears. Hooch grabs the Quaffle.]

Lee: The Quaffle is released and the game begins!

[Gryffindor takes possession of the ball and a chaser, Angelia Johnson, zooms past the Slytherins towards their goal, and throws the ball, and scores! There is a ding.]

Lee: Angelina Johnson scores! 10 points for Gryffindor! [He presses a button and a 10 shows up beside a plaque with Gryffindor's name.]

[Caitria, in the air, claps.]

Caitria: Yes! [A Bludger suddenly zooms by her.] Whoa!

[In the stands, Gryffindor cheers.]

Hagrid: Well done!

Lee: Slytherin takes possession of the Quaffle. Bletchley passes to Captain Marcus Flint.

[Flint dodges people and throws for the Gryffindor hoops. Oliver appears and whacks the ball away with his broom. He smirks at Flint, who glares. Johnson and Katie Bell pass the Quaffle back and forth as they strategize to score. Johnson takes it, throws, and once again scores!]

Ron and Seamus: Yay!

Caitria: Yes!

Lee: Another 10 points to Gryffindor! [he adds another 10 to the score with a ding.]

Gryffindors: Yay!

[The Slytherins decide to get messy. They dodge, kick, and try to score. Once again, Oliver blocks.]

Flint: Give me that! [he grabs a beaters bat from one and whacks a Bludger right at Oliver. It hits Oliver directly in the stomach and he plummets to the ground, knocked out.]

Regulus hissed, disgusted by his house in the future. ‘That is not sportsmanship!’

[This causes the entire audience to boo; Caitria is visibly upset as the Slytherins laugh. The Slytherin members head off. One jumps over George – yep it was George – and scores. Lee adds 10 points in the plaque with Slytherin's name. Caitria is upset again. Slytherin cheers.]

Flint: [to his teammates]Take that side!

[They box Johnson in and sent her into the capes covering one of the towers. She falls down in and is out. The crowd boos. Slytherin scores once again.]

“Disgusting.” Evan crossed his arms, hating how Slytherins acted in the nineties.

[The screen went black]

“What’s going on?”

“Hey we were watching that!”

“I want to see someone whoop that boy’s arse.”

“Marlene!”

[Caitria's mind races, a vivid image forming behind her eyes: Marcus Flint, the brutish Slytherin Quidditch captain, being repeatedly walloped by Fred Weasley's beater bat. The satisfying thwack echoes in her imagination. Then, impossibly, the very bat she is picturing materializes into tangible reality. With a disconcerting whoosh, it hurtles onto the Quidditch pitch, a dark blur against the vibrant green.]

[Flint spots the rogue object hurtling towards him and his eyes widen in alarm. The bat, seemingly sentient in its pursuit, chases him relentlessly. Thwack! It connects squarely with the side of his head, the force rocking him in his saddle.]

Flint: Aahhhh!

[He clutching his throbbing skull. He swerves wildly, trying to evade the persistent attacker, but the bat is relentless. Thwack! Another solid hit lands on his back. He nearly loses his balance, his grip tightening desperately on his broom handle.]

Flint: A rogue bat! WEASLEYS!

[Fred and George Weasley, perched on their brooms, witness the bizarre spectacle unfolding below. Their gazes lock onto Caitria, and they both see the unmistakable, almost predatory gleam of satisfaction dancing in her emerald eyes. A simultaneous shiver runs down their spines, a primal instinct screaming at them. They exchange a wide-eyed look, a silent, solemn vow passing between them: never, under any circumstances, will they ever, ever, get on Caitria Potter's wrong side. The sheer, unpredictable power she just inadvertently displayed is a potent and terrifying warning.]

“Go girl!” a voice called out, sharp and laced with amusement.

Every head in the immediate vicinity of the dueling platform snapped towards the unexpected interruption. Both the clusters of whispering Slytherins and the lounging Marauders turned as one to see Caitria Potter lounging in her seat, a shark-like smirk stretching across her lips. Her emerald eyes, usually alight with a quiet intensity, now glittered with undisguised mischief.

Orion, who had been observing the match with a critical eye, offered a slow nod of impressed acknowledgment.

“Nicely done, Heir Potter,” he stated, his voice carrying a hint of approval.

Caitria twisted herself to face the Lord, her smirk softening into a genuine smile as she nodded at the man.

“Thanks,” she replied, her gaze flicking between Orion and James, who was now grinning widely beside his father. “But you can call me Caitria. You are basically my grandfather, along with Monty over there.” She gestured with a casual wave towards Monty, who blinked in surprise.

Orion’s brow furrowed, a deep line appearing between his dark eyes. He stared at Caitria, utterly bewildered.

“Huh?” He managed, the single syllable thick with confusion.

[Suddenly, Caitria sees the Snitch. She starts to head off after it and then suddenly her broom starts bucking and turning.]

Caitria: Whoa! Whooa!

Hagrid: What’s going on with Caitria’s broomstick?

[Hermione looks through binoculars at Caitria, then at Snape, who is visibly muttering.]

Hermione: It’s Snape! He’s jinxing the broom!

James turned to glare at the boy dressed in green but a sharp whistle that seemed to ricochet around his head, pierced the air.

“Keep watching and keep your judgement to yourself!” Caitria glared at anyone who dared to give Severus an evil look.

Ron: Jinxing the broom? What do we do?

Hermione: Leave it to me. [She hands Ron her binoculars and leaves the stands.]

[Caitria is knocked and thrown around, then falls, dangling by one arm from the broom.]

“OH MERLIN!”

“OUCH MOTHER, YOU NEED TO CUT YOUR TALONS AS WELL!” James yelped, rubbing his own afflicted hand with a playful glare at his mother.

Sirius, who had been watching the unfolding chaos with amusement, suddenly yelped himself, clutching his arm.

“HAHAHA… OW MOTHER?” He questioned, his laughter abruptly cut short.

Walburga, though her expression remained stern, softened slightly as she looked at her eldest son. “Don’t laugh at others’ pain, Sirius,” she said, her tone sharp as usual, but lacking its usual venom. A flicker of concern crossed her features as she observed him rubbing his arm.

“YOU DO!” He retorted, a small, mischievous grin returning to his face as he continued to rub his arm, though less dramatically now.

Caitria, who had been observing the familial interaction with a raised eyebrow, snickered softly. “So, Sirius,” she drawled, her eyes gleaming with amusement, “if Walburga told you to kiss Dumbledore’s robes, would you?”

He blanched, his already pale complexion taking on a sickly green hue. He stared at Caitria, his mouth slightly agape. “You are evil,” he croaked, as if the very thought was physically painful. “Don’t even joke about that,” he muttered, shuddering dramatically.

Molly her face flushed with indignation at the disrespect being shown to the older generation, surged to her feet, ready to unleash a torrent of angry words. But before a single syllable could escape her lips, thick, black chains erupted from the tip of Caitria’s wand with a sharp cracking sound. They snaked through the air, swift and precise, and bound Molly tightly to her chair, effectively silencing her.

Caitria turned her gaze towards the startled witch, her expression firm. “A word of caution, Molly,” she stated, her voice carrying a clear warning. “You are hated, abhorred in the future. Honestly, nothing about you has changed, except for the fact that you’re more stupid now – not by much though.”

Ron: [concerned] Come on, Hermione!

[Hermione is hurrying up in the tower structures. She appears underneath Snape and touches his cloak with her wand.]

Hermione: [quietly] Lacarnum Inflamarae.

[A spark ignites and Snape’s cloak catches fire. Hermione quickly leaves.]

Man: Fire! You’re on fire!

Snape: What? Oh! [knocks the man back, who falls into Quirrell, who then also falls. Snape bats out the fire and acts as though nothing happened. The broom stops bucking, and Caitria climbs back on. The Slytherin seeker is after the Snitch. Caitria takes off.]

Ron: Go!

Hagrid: Go, go, go!

[Caitria rams the Slytherin Seeker, then is butted out. She returns, smashing the Seeker again as the Snitch dives. The boys follow, but they approach the ground quickly. The Slytherin Seeker backs out, and Caitria pulls up her broom as she follows the Snitch, feet above the ground. Caitria stands up, and steps forward, trying to grab the ball. She goes too far, and topples off the broom with a yelp, tumbling on the ground. She gets up and lurches. The crowd gasps. Hermione appears beside a tower to see.]

Hagrid: Looks like she’s gonna be sick!

[Caitria lurches and the Snitch pops out of her mouth. It lands in her hands.]

Lee: She’s got the Snitch! Caitria Potter receives one hundred and fifty points for catching the Snitch!

A ripple of astonishment spread through the room. Heads swiveled, eyes wide with disbelief, all locking onto Caitria. The silence that followed the replay of her audacious Snitch capture hung thick in the air, broken only when Sirius, leaning forward in his chair, finally found his voice.

"You... you caught it in your mouth?" He exclaimed, his tone a mixture of disbelief and amusement. His dark eyes, usually shadowed with a hint of melancholy, now sparkled with genuine surprise.

Caitria, who had been watching the fading image of her younger self with a fond smile, turned towards him. A playful grin danced on her lips, a familiar expression that hinted at her mischievous spirit. She lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she met Sirius's gaze. A quick, deliberate wink followed, a silent acknowledgment of her past feat. Without waiting for further reaction, she turned her attention back to the now-blank space where the hologram had been, the memory, though years old, still held a certain pride.

Hooch: [Blows her whistle whilst riding on her broomstick] Gryffindor wins!

[The crowd cheers in joy including Gryffindor]

Draco: [dismayed] No!

Hagrid: Yes!

Hermione: Whoo–hoo!

[McGonagall giggles happily. Caitria raises the Snitch into the air and the crowd, and her team, cheers.]

Crowd: Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor!

Those in the room joined in, colours of red streamers shooting from their wands in celebration.

“Woohoo!”

“Awesome.”

Chapter Text

[Caitria, Hermione and Ron are walking along a path with Hagrid, talking.]

Hagrid: Nonsense! Why would Snape put a curse on Caitria’s broom?

Hermione: Who knows? Why was he trying to get past that three–headed dog on Halloween?

Hagrid: [turns to them, suspiciously] Who told you about Fluffy?

Ron: Fluffy?

Hermione: That thing has a name?

Caitria: Awwwww I still wanna go pat Fluffy soon, so cute

Hagrid: [smiles at Caitria before turning to face Hermione and Ron] Well, of course he’s got a name. He’s mine. I bought him off an Irish feller I met down at the pub last year. Then I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the...

Ron: Yes?

Hagrid: Shouldn’t have said that. No more questions! Don’t ask any more questions. That’s top secret, that is.

Ron: But, Hagrid, whatever Fluffy’s guarding, Snape’s trying to steal it.

Hagrid: Codswallop. Professor Snape is a Hogwarts teacher.

Hermione: Hogwarts teacher or not, I know a spell when I see one. I’ve read all about them. You’ve got to keep eye contact and Snape wasn’t blinking.

Caitria: Exactly, wait... that works for counter spells too.

[Hermione scoffs at Caitria, the displeasure of being shown up, clearly seen in the girl's brown eyes.]

“I really don’t like her!” Orion narrowed his eyes at the girl, his wife agreeing with him.

Caitria grinned at the man, “Don’t worry, she gets better during second year due to circumstances.”

Hagrid: [Sighs] Now, you listen to me, all three of yeh. Yer meddling in things that ought not to be meddled in. It’s dangerous. What that dog is guarding is strictly between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel.

Ron: [Curious and turns to the girls then back to Hagrid] Nicholas Flamel?

Hagrid: [Mumbles to himself] I shouldn’t have said that. I should not have said that.

[He then leaves, mumbling to himself “I should have not said that”]

Ron: Nicholas Flamel. [Turns to Hermione] Who’s Nicholas Flamel?

Hermione: I don’t know. [Shakes her head]

Gideon and Fabian gasped, their eyes wide.

“The Know–It–All doesn’t know something?” Fabian started.

“The horror, the travesty.” Gideon finished.

[Ron turns to Caitria, them both ignoring Hermione’s hateful glare.]

Caitria: Name rings a bell, but for what though, I cannot remember.

“Shut up! Your precious Caitria doesn’t either.”

Everyone – bar Fudge and Dumbledore – sent the woman hexes and jinxes, causing her to scream out in pain.

“Hopefully by the end of this year, you’ll know how to keep your mouth shut. And that sluts for Dumbewhore really do stick together.” Caitria hissed, the end turning into mumbles.

[It is now Christmas at Hogwarts, with snow falling. Hagrid is dragging a massive Christmas tree to the castle. Hermione walks to the Great Hall entrance with her luggage and wearing a scarf as the ghosts are singing Christmas songs.]

Ghosts: Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. Ring the Hogwart bell. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas...

[Hermione looks from the massive Christmas tree as Flitwick uses his wand to put another ornament on the tree to Caitria and Ron as they play Chess and walks towards them.]

Caitria: Knight to E5. [The Knight moves to its destination. Hermione walks up behind Caitria.]

Ron: [With a smug face] Queen to E5.

[Hermione watches as Ron’s queen goes over to Caitria’s knight and whacks the knight with her chair. Ron grins.]

Hermione: [With a shocked face] That’s totally barbaric!

Ron: That’s wizard’s chess. [Looks over to Hermione] I see you’ve packed.

Hermione: I see you haven’t.

Ron: Change of plans, my parents decided to go to Romania to visit my brother, Charlie. He’s studying dragons there.

Charlie’s small lungs bellowed the creature, “‘Ragon!”

The sound echoing with childish ferocity as he brandished the brightly coloured plastic dinosaur. His chubby fingers clutched it possessively, a tiny warrior defending his prized possession against the playful siege of his uncles. Fabian and Gideon, their adult hands looming large, made exaggerated attempts to snatch the toy, feigning desperate grabs and comical sighs of defeat. But Charlie, a whirlwind of unrestrained glee, was too quick. He’d dart away, his short legs pumping, the dinosaur held aloft like a trophy. Then, turning with impish delight, he’d puff out his cheeks and unleash a wet, sputtering raspberry in their direction.

The sound, a burst of pure, unadulterated childishness, sent a fresh wave of laughter rippling through the two men. Fabian, unable to resist the infectious joy, swooped down, his fingers tickling the sensitive skin under Charlie’s arms. Gideon joined in, his own tickling assault targeting the boy’s sides. Charlie dissolved into a riot of squeals and gasps, his small body writhing with delighted torment. Tears welled in his eyes, not from distress, but from the sheer, overwhelming pleasure of the playful attack. His giggles were sharp and high-pitched, punctuated by desperate, breathy pleas for them to stop, pleas that only fuelled his uncles’ gentle torment.

Molly, who had been observing the boisterous scene with a tightening in her chest, finally moved. A shadow of unease darkened her features as she reached out a hand, her gaze fixed on the offending toy. Her intention was clear, etched in the rigid set of her jaw and the determined glint in her eyes: the plastic menace would be confiscated, perhaps even broken, to restore some semblance of order. But as her fingertips brushed against the smooth, cool plastic of the dinosaur, a sudden, violent bloom of fire erupted around her hand.

It wasn't a gentle flicker or a playful spark. It was a raw, incandescent eruption, the flames licking greedily around her skin, turning it a horrifying, angry red. The air crackled with heat, and the smell of singed hair and burning flesh filled the room with a sickening intensity. Molly recoiled with a strangled cry, her eyes wide with shock and agony as the unexpected inferno consumed her hand. The vibrant colours of the toy seemed to mock her pain, lying innocently amidst the display of her son’s accidental magic.

Hermione: Good. You can help Caitria, then. She’s going to go and look in the library for information on Nicholas Flamel.

Ron: We’ve looked a hundred times!

Hermione: [Leans over on the table closer to Ron and Caitria] Not in the restricted section. Happy Christmas. [Hermione leaves Ron and Caitria]

Ron: [Looks at Caitria] I think we’ve had a bad influence on her.

[Caitria just shrugs, then gains a dreamy look on her face as she pictures endless time to play with Fluffy.]

[It is now Christmas morning. Ron is waking Caitria up]

Ron: [From downstairs] Caitria, wake up! Come on, Caitria, wake up!

[Caitria puts on her scarf and runs out of bed. She then looks down at Ron]

Ron: [Looking up at Caitria] Happy Christmas, Caitria.

Caitria: Happy Christmas, Ron. [Caitria notices Ron’s sweater] What are you wearing?

Ron: [Looks down at sweater] Oh. My mum made it. [Looking back up at Caitria] It looks like you’ve got one too.

“No way would I make one for that brat!”

“That's it. Molly, you and I –”

Caitria stood up, “maybe wait till next year? However, Ron better still be born or I'm haunting you.”

Arthur smirked a sly smile and nodded while his soon–to–be–ex–wife glared at them both.

Caitria: I–I’ve got presents?

A wave of sorrow washed over those present, their gazes heavy with pity as they watched the memory unfold. Caitria, a wisp of a girl, stood with wide, uncertain eyes, the concept of receiving a gift after so many barren years a stark testament to her orphaned existence. Ten years. Ten birthdays, ten Christmases, ten ordinary days that should have been filled with small joys, now marked by the hollow absence of parental love and the simple delight of a present. It was a cruelty, a visible wound etched onto her young face, that the mere thought of a wrapped object could elicit such a profound and bewildered reaction. Their hearts ached at the injustice, the stark reality of a childhood stolen by tragedy. She deserved so much more than this meager moment of belated recognition; she deserved the warmth of a constant embrace, the unwavering security of a loving family, the normalcy of a life brimming with affection and care. A collective, unspoken wish hung in the air, a fervent hope that this new beginning, this chance with the Potters, would finally take root. They prayed, with a desperate intensity, that fate would be kinder this time, that the shadow of loss would finally recede, and that Caitria would at long last blossom in the sunlight of the nurturing and devoted family she so desperately deserved.

Ron: [Nodding] Yeah!

[Caitria runs down the staircase to see her presents]

Ron: There they are.

[Caitria sees a note on the present and opens it, reading it out]

Caitria: “Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.” [Caitria looks over to Ron, who shrugs his shoulders]

[Caitria shakes her head, alarm bells screaming at her that the person who sent the package was lying and that they stole it. She thinks to herself, ‘I vow I’ll destroy whoever is stupid enough to steal from my family.’

“Go Bambi.”

Many saw how hard Dumbledore’s eyes got and smirked. Finally, he would be seen for who he really is.

Meanwhile Dumbledore was seething. ‘Her key… the cloak…’

If the memory held true, he possessed the key to her vault, and her father’s prized cloak was missing. A vein throbbed visibly in his temple as his hands clenched into fists beneath the concealing sleeves of his robes.

‘That insolent little brat,’ he seethed inwardly, the words a venomous whisper in the silent battleground of his mind. ‘She dares to stand there, in the echoes of her past, and threaten me? Me?’

The audacity of it, the sheer gall of this slip of a girl daring to challenge his authority, his reputation, his very being, was like a physical slap. A dark, possessive anger clawed at him.

‘She thinks she can outwit me? Believes she can expose me? Ha!’

The silent snarl that contorted his features was a stark contrast to the serene mask he usually presented to the world, a fleeting glimpse into the turbulent darkness that churned beneath the surface. The memory, intended to reveal truth, had instead ignited a furious resolve within him. He would not be undone by a child’s vengeful ghost. He would navigate this treacherous turn, and that little witch, with her misplaced fury, would learn the true meaning of power.

[Caitria then proceeds to open the remaining of her present. She pulls out a blanket–like object]

Ron: What is it?

Caitria: [Looking down at the object] It’s some kind of cloak.

Ron: Well, let’s see, then. Put it on.

[Caitria then wraps the cloak around her shoulders, making her body invisible]

Ron: Whoa!

Caitria: [Looks down at her invisible body] My body’s gone!

Ron: I know what that is. That’s an invisibility cloak!

Fleamont and James exchanged panicked looks as so did the other three boys catching Severus and Regulus’ attention, their eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Caitria: I’m invisible? [Caitria spins around, looking down at herself]

Ron: They’re really rare. [Ron looks down at the note] I wonder who gave it to you.

Caitria: [Now also looking down at the note] There was no name. It just said, “Use it well.”

“No!” James’s denial ripped through the stunned silence. His voice, thick with disbelief and dawning horror, echoed in the chamber. “I wouldn’t have just left it with anyone! Maybe… maybe Remus, Sirius, or Peter, but even then… no! It would have gone straight to the family vault! It was too important!”

His eyes darted around the room, wild with accusation. “Who stole it?”

Minerva, who had been observing the unfolding drama with a grim intensity, rounded on James, her voice rising in a sharp, incredulous crow.

“You gave an invisibility cloak? You? With all your… your pranks! The constant rule-breaking you and your cohorts got away with!”

Her nostrils flared.

“You sneaky little devils! An invisibility cloak! And one that your daughter now possesses?”

The colour drained from her face, leaving her skin ashen. Her gaze flickered back to the empty space where the memory had played, a look of profound disillusionment settling upon her features. Then, with a sudden, resolute movement, she turned back towards the head table, her voice flat and final.

“I resign.”

A dry cough broke the ensuing silence. Regulus, his gaze fixed on the departing figure of McGonagall, watched with a grim satisfaction. He then turned to his mother, a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips.

“I believe,” he began, his voice laced with a pointed sarcasm, emphasizing the final word, “that Caitria will prove just how good,” he sneered, the word dripping with irony, “Dumbles truly is.”

Walburga’s sharp eyes, usually narrowed in disapproval of her older son’s association with the Potters, held the glow of agreement.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice low and laced with concern, “hopefully without any undue harm to herself, though. I do not like what that manipulative headmaster may have planned for her.”

Sirius, his ears having caught his mother’s words, felt a familiar warmth bloom in his chest, a sensation he hadn't experienced in years. The ancient magic of his lineage, long suppressed by his self-imposed exile from his family’s rigid beliefs, began to stir within him once more. He understood, with a sudden clarity that resonated deep within his bones, the unspoken truth. Blacks were loyal. Fiercely so. And they were beginning to see his goddaughter, this brave and wronged girl, as family.

A sense of protective urgency surged through him. He grabbed Remus, Peter, James, and a hesitant Lily by their arms, pulling them towards his mother and brother. He needed to be near them, surrounded by the burgeoning strength of his rediscovered heritage. The lines were being drawn, and for the first time in a long time, Sirius Black felt like he knew which side he was truly on.

Chapter Text

[Late that night, a lantern and hand appear, but nothing else. The ensemble walks through the dark library and into the Restricted Section. The lamp is put down, and the cloak removed, revealing to be Caitria who searches the bookshelves.]

Caitria: Famous fire eaters. 15th–Century Fiends. Flamel. Nicholas Flamel. Where are you?

[Caitria picks up a book and opens it. A man's face appears from between the pages, which screams madly and loudly. She immediately screams back at the pages, smirking when the face flinches before slamming the book shut and puts it back.]

“What the hell?”

“HAHAHA, she has guts.”

“See Lily–Flower, the library is evil.”

“Why would you scream back?”

Caitria shrugged, “I’m not going to be afraid of some bloody pages written in some dead dude’s blood. The blood is so old, it would be useless in any rituals or spells, so... why be afraid. Stupid bloody dead wanker.”

Filch: Who's there? [Caitria whips around and quickly grabs her cloak, causing the lamp to fall and shatter.] I know you're in there. You can't hide. [Caitria puts on her cloak and creeps around Filch.] Who is it? Show yourself!

Caitria: I’m Mrs. Norris, sorry I haven’t spoken for a while.

Many of the teens were laughing, snickering and snorting. Even some of the adults such as Orion, Abraxas and Cyrus were trying hard to hide their laughter, whereas others such as Arthur and Fleamont didn’t even bother trying.

Filch: that’s ok my precious. [Filch sighs, a dreamy look in his eye]

“Creepy fucker.”

“Language!” Molly sneered at her brothers.

Caitria scoffed, “English, but you cannot talk Ms. Foul Mouth. You swear worse than muggle sailors, and that’s saying something.”

[Caitria runs from the room, breathing heavily. She exits into the hall, where Mrs. Norris, who meows and begins to follow her. Caitria runs around a corner, just as Snape and Quirrell appear. Snape pushes Quirrell into the wall.]

Barty cracked up laughing, “kinky.”

Caitria looked horrified, her face green with disgust.

Quirrell: Severus... I–I thought...

Snape: You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell

Quirrell: I don't know w–what you m–mean.

Snape: You know perfectly well what I mean. [Snape senses something which causes Caitria to stop breathing. Snape reaches out to grab something but doesn't. He whips his finger back in front of Quirrell's face.] We'll have another chat soon. When you've had time to decide where your loyalties lie.

[Filch arrives, carrying the broken lantern.]

Filch: Oh, Professors. I found this in the Restricted Section. It's still hot. That means there's a student out of bed.

[Upon hearing this, Snape and Quirrell dart off]

[Caitria makes her way back to the third floor where Fluffy is. She giggles as the cute puppy barks in excitement, it’s tail wagging so hard, it knocks her off her feet.]

Caitria: Ooophm. Careful buddy.

[Fluffy whimpers as she stands up, but they turn into exaggerated pants as he notices the large toy she is holding.]

Caitria: Catch [Caitria throws the pillow she had transfigured into a goat wearing robes that are suspiciously familiar to a certain professor’s. She had a suspicion the cerebus wouldn't like the guy just like her, and she is right.]

“That’s Dumbledore!” Sirius snickered to his god–daughter, the look of a proud man shining bright.

[The three heads have fun ripping apart the goat, while Caitria names them... she dubs the one on the right Chaos, while the one on the left is Mayhem and the middle is Mischief. The three newly named heads spend the next hour or so, licking her, playing tag and throwing her up in air, catching the back of her robe with their teeth.]

Euphemia looked at her granddaughter. “Did your father drop you when you were a baby?”

Caitria looked at her grandmother with shock. “Well that is rude. No, this is me fighting forces that would suppress my true nature, controlling me. It's called school.”

[Having left the room, Caitria is on her way back to the Gryffindor Common Room when she hears the meow of Norris. Quickly darting away, she stumbles down several steps, barely making a jump when the stairs decide that being at school isn't enough of a death sentence and swap. Finally... a door opens and then it closes.]

“Hopefully this one doesn’t have a cerebus in it.”

Caitria huffed, “there is nothing wrong with Fluffy.”

[On the other side, there is a vast, empty room that has a large mirror in the center known as the Mirror of Erised. Caitria appears and walks over to the mirror. In the reflection she sees two people appear who are her late parents, James and Lily Potter.]

Many gasped, their eyes darting to Caitria and her parents. This was the first seeing them that the girl would remember. The poor thing.

“Damn my kind sir, you aged well there.” Sirius jested, making those who were close to tears, chuckle, feeling grateful at the man’s need for jokes.

He turned away, his face one of fury. Minchum and Mad–Eye Moody kept both of their wands discreetly at him, their thoughts erratic, but were both slowly becoming horrified by the paintings – that were being slowly uncovered like at an exhibit – as the movie went on.

Chapter Text

[I t is snowy in daytime, Caitria is out in a main courtyard, bundled up, with Hedwig on her arm. She stops and Hegwig lifts off, soaring away into the sky. As the time passed when she returns, it is now spring time.]

Caitria: Hi, Hedwig. [Hedwig has just flown down to the table where Caitria, Ron and Hermoine are studying]

Hermione: Look at you, playing with your cards. Pathetic! We've got final exams coming up soon.

Ron: I'm ready. Ask me any question.

Hermione: Alright, what are the three most crucial ingredients in a Forgetfulness Potion?

Ron: I forgot.

“Classic.” James snickered.

“Ironic.” Sirius agreed.

Remus face palmed. “You two are no better.”

The duo turned to him with offended expressions, their lips trembled as they fought back retorts.

“Harsh there don’t you think?” Caitria murmured making the boy turn to his friends in guilt.

“I’m sorry.”

They waved him off, but Caitria could see the sparks of hurt in Sirius’ eyes. ‘Did Remus say something earlier that he hasn’t gotten past?’

Hermione: And what, may I ask, do you plan to do if this comes up in the final exam?

Ron: Copy off you?

Hermione: No, you won't. Besides, according to Professor McGonagall, we're to be given special quills bewitched with an anti–cheating spell.

Ron: That's insulting! It's as if they don't trust us! 

McGonagall huffed fondly, “I wonder why.”

[Ron checks a card, irritated] Dumbledore again!

[Just then, Neville Longbottom comes hopping into the Great Hall with his legs stuck together as the other students laugh at him.]

Ron: Leg–Locker Curse?

Caitria: Malfoy. [Neville approaches them amidst laughter from the other students]

Ron: You have got to start standing up to people, Neville.

Neville: [wobbling uncontrollably] How? I can barely stand at all!

Seamus: [jumping up, wand at the ready] I'll do the countercurse!

Neville Longbottom: No, that's all I need! You to set my bloody kneecaps on fire!

Seamus: [slamming his wand down angrily] I don't appreciate the insinuation, Longbottom. Besides, if anyone cares to notice, my eyebrows have completely grown back! [He then stalks off angrily, showing a large chunk of hair missing from the back of his head.]

The room burst into laughter; Caitria shook her head at her old house-mate. Seamus was definitely a character.

Caitria: I found him! [hands Ron a Chocolate Frog card of Dumbledore]

Ron: "Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark" Wizard Grindelwald in 1945–"

Caitria: Go on.

Ron: "–for his discovery of the 12 uses of Dragon Blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner Nicolas Flamel!"

Caitria: I knew the name sounded familiar. I read it on the train that day.

Hermione: [beaming excitedly] Follow me!

[The Trio tears out of the Great Hall, leaving poor Neville still flailing around]

Neville Longbottom: Hey! Wait! Where are you going? What about the countercurse? 

[Before he can say another word, he topples over backwards and then falls to the ground. The other students start laughing. Caitria races back into the room, and waved her wand clockwise three times and a purple light hits Neville, allowing him to flop on the floor comfortably, his legs automatically star fishing.]

Caitria: Gotta go... bye

[In the library, Caitria and Ron are seated, reading until Hermione comes up with a huge book and thumps it onto the table making Caitria jump.]

Hermione: I had you looking in the wrong section. How could I be so stupid? I checked this out a few weeks ago for a bit of light reading.

Ron: This is light?

Hermione: Of course! Here it is! [as she reads the description in the page] Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone.

Ron: The what?

Caitria: A Stone that produces the Elixir of Life which will make the drinker immortal

Hermione: Honestly, don't you read? Caitria was right, but that’s only half of its uses. [She glares at Caitria for knowing anything before going back to the book] "The Philosopher's Stone is a legendary substance with astonishing powers. It'll transform any metal into pure gold and produces the Elixir of Life which will make the drinker immortal."

“Damn she really was a bitch.” Caitria murmured to herself not realising that Regulus, Evan and Barty – three boys she was slowly dubbing as the Slytherin Trio – all looked at her with WTF expressions.

Ron: Immortal?

Hermione: It means you'll never die.

Ron: I know what it means!

Caitria: Shh!

Hermione: "The only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicholas Flamel, the noted alchemist who last year celebrated his six hundred and sixty–fifth birthday."

“Damn, he’s old.”

“Very old.”

Hermione: That's what Fluffy's guarding on the third floor. That's what's under the trapdoor. The Philosopher's Stone.

[They all look at each other in concern.]

[It is nighttime in the castle grounds, and Hermione, Ron, and Caitria are running across to Hagrid's hut. They knock on the door and Hagrid, who is wearing an apron and oven mitts, opens it from the inside.]

Caitria: Hagrid!

Hagrid: Oh, hello, sorry, don't wish to be rude, but I'm in no fit state to entertain today.

[He begins to close the door]

All three: We know about the Philosopher's Stone!

[Hagrid opens the door again]

Hagrid: Oh...

[They all come into Hagrid's hut.]

Hermione: We think Snape's trying to steal it.

Hagrid: Snape? Blimey, yer not still on about him, are yeh?

Caitria: Hagrid, we know he's after the Stone. We just don't know why.

Severus looked over at the girl causing her to shrug. “Sorry about that, but in all fairness, you treated me like utter shit majority of the time.”

Hagrid: Snape is one of the teachers protecting the Stone. He's not about to steal it.

Ron: What?

Hagrid: You heard. Right. Come on, now, I'm a bit preoccupied today.

Caitria: Wait a minute. [Ron soon sees Hagrid's boar–hound Fang, who sniffs him.] "One of the teachers?"

Hermione: [whilst sitting in a large chair] Of course! There are other things defending the Stone, aren't there? Spells, enchantments.

Hagrid: That's right. Waste of bloody time, if yeh ask me. 

[Hermione looks at Ron, who is still being sniffed in the face by Fang. Finally, Ron shuffles away.]  

Hagrid: Ain't no one gonna get past Fluffy. Hehe. Ain't a soul knows how, except for me and Dumbledore. I shouldn't have told you that. I should not have told you that. [A cauldron over a fire begins to rattle.] Oh! [Hagrid hurries over and grabs something] Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! [He places it on the table. It was an egg. The group crowds around.]

Caitria: Uh, Hagrid, what exactly is that?

Hagrid: That? It's a... it's, um...

Ron: I know what that is! But, Hagrid, how did you get one?

Hagrid: I won it. Off a stranger I met down at a pub. Seemed quite glad to be rid of it, as a matter of fact.

[The egg rattles and cracks open as pieces fly off; a small baby dragon emerges. It squeaks and slips on an egg piece.]

A palpable wave of fury rolled through the assembled parents. Their gazes, sharp and accusatory, locked onto Albus Dumbledore. They were not alone in their outrage. A significant number of the Hogwarts professors, their faces etched with concern and disapproval, and even several Ministry officials, their expressions ranging from shocked to openly hostile, directed their glares from the lingering image on the screen to the aged headmaster. The implications were clear: Dumbledore’s leadership, it seemed, had a disturbing tendency towards endangering the very students and staff under his care. The revelation of a Cerberus guarding a trapdoor within the school grounds was alarming enough, but the casual mention of further hazards sent a fresh wave of fear and anger through the room.

“A bloody dragon at Hogwarts? First a Cerberus, then a soul-sucking mirror –”

“A what?” Lily shrieked, her emerald eyes wide with terror, her hand flying to her mouth.

The idea of such a dangerous object within the school walls sent a jolt of pure fear through her.

Caitria’s sharp gaze fixed on Abraxas, who had the decency to flinch under her scrutiny, his usual arrogant demeanour momentarily replaced by a look of sheepish embarrassment.

“It doesn’t suck your soul,” she corrected Lily, her tone dry. “That’s a Dementor. But you can technically waste away in front of it, staring at it without any idea of how much time has passed. It shows you your deepest desires, and some people get so lost in the illusion that they forget to eat, sleep… live.”

Lily nodded slowly, her face still pale but a sliver of reassurance flickering in her eyes. The explanation, while still disturbing, was marginally less terrifying than the initial implication.

Caitria offered a wry, humourless smile. “But yes,” she continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “FLUFFY, that blasted mirror, and now a dragon. Yay for Hogwarts.”

The forced cheerfulness only underscored the absurdity and danger of the situation, a dark humour born of firsthand experience with the supposed safety of their magical sanctuary.

Hermione: Is that... a dragon?

Ron: That's not just a dragon. That's a Norwegian Ridgeback. My brother Charlie works with these in Romania.

Hagrid: Isn't he beautiful? Oh, bless him. Look, he knows his mummy. Hehehe. Hallo, Norbert.

[Norbert squeaks as it looks at Hagrid.]

Caitria: Norbert?

Hagrid: Yeah, well, he's gotta have a name, don't he? [Ron laughs] Don't you, Norbert? [he raises fingers back and forth across Norbert's chin] Dededede.

[Norbert backs away, until he hiccups and blast a small fireball into Hagrid's beard.]

Hagrid: Ohh! [he quickly pats out the smolders in his beard] Oooh, ooh, ooh–hoo–hoo–hoo! Ooh, well... he'll have to be trained up a bit, of course. Heh. [Norbert hiccups. Hagrid sees someone looking in the window.] Who's that? [It turns out to be Draco Malfoy, who scampers away.]

Caitria: Malfoy.

Hagrid: Oh, dear.

[Caitria, Ron, and Hermione are walking back through a corridor as an owl screeches.]

Caitria: Hagrid always wanted a dragon. He told me so the first time I ever met him.

Ron: It's crazy. And worse, Malfoy knows.

Caitria: I don't understand. Is that bad?

Ron: It's bad.

[They stop as McGonagall, in her nightgown, appears, sternly.]

McGonagall: Good evening.

[Then, Malfoy appears smugly beside her. Inside McGonagall's classroom, the three are now standing in front of McGonagall's desk, while Malfoy is feet away, smirking.]

“Stupid bleached barbie.” Caitria muttered.

McGonagall: [sternly] Nothing, I repeat, nothing gives a student the right to walk about the school at night. Therefore, as punishment for your actions, fifty points will be taken.

Caitria: Fifty?

“FIFTY? WHAT THE HELL?” The Marauders all stared at their head of house with shock.

Those from their house shared their disbelief.

Marlene shouted, “What the hell Professor.”

Even though Ted had never been a Gryffindor, even he was shocked. “Fifty, that seems a bit... you know... harsh.”

McGonagall had never taken so many points before, and they had done a lot of mischief deserving of that many points, but never had been punished so severely.

McGonagall: Each. [Caitria gasps] And to ensure it doesn't happen again, all four of you will receive detention.

Ted took back his statement. “No, that is harsh.”

Andromeda nodded, “yes but at least Draco is also in trouble.”

[Malfoy nods, then his smile vanishes with great concern.]

Draco: Excuse me, Professor, perhaps I heard you wrong. I thought you said the four of us.

McGonagall: No, you heard me correctly, Mr. Malfoy. You see, honorable as your intentions were, you too were out of bed after hours. You will join your classmates in detention.

[Caitria, Ron and Hermione grin, as Draco sags, knowing that the tables have turned.]

“Haha suck it.”

“Good if it wasn’t for him, they wouldn’t have gotten in trouble in the first place.”

“Serves the Git.” Regulus glowered.

Abraxas and Lucius glared at him, only to flinch when they caught Caitria’s green eyes.

“Back up Peacocks. The apple that falls from the tree will always be an apple unless made to be something else. I’d look in the mirror if I were you.”

Chapter Text

[The next night, Caitria, Ron, Hermione and Draco are being led to Hagrid's hut by Mr. Filch.]

Filch: A pity they let the old punishments die. There was a time detention would find you hanging by your thumbs in the dungeons. God, I miss the screaming.

 [Draco gulps, and Hermione rushes by.]

James looked like he was ready to throw punches.

“Is this man mad? How could you hire such a person Albus?” Minchum asked.

Filch: You'll be serving detention with Hagrid tonight. He's got a little job to do inside the Dark Forest. [Hagrid appears with a crossbow. He sniffles.] A sorry lot, this, Hagrid. Oh, good God, man, you're not still on about that bloody dragon, are you?

Hagrid: [sniffs and sighs] Norbert's gone. Dumbledore sent him off to Romania to live in a colony.

Hermione: Well, that's good, isn't it? He'll be with his own kind.

Hagrid: Yeah, but what if he don't like Romania? [Filch rolls eyes.] What if the other dragons are mean to him? He's only a baby, after all.

“Leave the giant cinnabon alone!” Caitria huffed.

“Giant cinnabon?” Barty asked, amused.

The girl nodded, “Yeah, I see plenty of cinnabons here,” she gave a pointed look at the boy who immediately blushed before looking away.

Filch: Oh, for God's sake, pull yourself together, man. You're going into the Forest, after all. Got to have your wits about you.

Draco: The Forest? I thought that was a joke! We can't go in there. Students aren't allowed. And there are... [a howl sounds] ...werewolves!

Remus looked down and Caitria subtly whacked the back of his head.

“Stop thinking so badly.”

Filch: There's more than werewolves in those trees, lad. You can be sure of that. [Draco looks frightened.] Nighty-night. [He leaves to go back into the castle]

Hagrid: Right. Let's go.

[In the Forbidden Forest, the group walks along a path to a tree. Hagrid stops, bends down and dips his fingers in a silver puddle. He pulls out his fingers and rubs them together. A silver trail smears with his fingers.]

Caitria: Hagrid, what is that?

Hagrid: What we're here for. See that? That's unicorn's blood, that is. I found one dead a few weeks ago. Now, this one's been hurt bad by something. [Caitria suddenly sees a large, cloaked figure walking through the trees. She looks at Hagrid.] So, it's our job to go and find the poor beast. Ron, Hermione, you'll come with me.

Ron: Okay.

Hagrid: And Caitria, you'll go with Malfoy.

[Draco grimaces, and Caitria nods.]

Draco: Okay. Then I get Fang.

Hagrid: Fine. Just so you know, he's a bloody coward. [Fang whines.]

[Caitria and Draco are walking through a part of the forest, with Fang leading. Draco has the lamp in his hand.]

Draco: You wait till my father hears about this. This is servant's stuff.

Caitria: If I didn't know better, Draco, I'd say you were scared.

Draco: Scared, Potter? [He scoffs, but suddenly hears a howl] Did you hear that? Come on, Fang. Scared!

“He was, wasn’t he?” Rabastan grinned.

Caitria smirked.

[Caitria and Draco approach a flat ground with gnarled roots all over. Fang stops, then growls.]

Caitria: What is it, Fang?

[Up ahead is a cloaked figure who is crouching over a dead unicorn, drinking its blood from its wound. The figure raises its head, silver blood dripping from its mouth. Caitria gasps and grabs her scar, which is hurting. Draco screams with pure fear and runs away with Fang.]

Draco: HELP!!!!!

Regulus scoffed, “coward. He left you there!”

Lucius glared at the boy only to freeze, his eyes wide as an animalistic growl echoed through the room.

“Keep your eyes to yourself Barbie.”

[Caitria is left by herself at the mercy of the figure who slides over the unicorn and rises erect. It advances towards Caitria, who backs up, but trips. She crawls backwards. Suddenly, there is the sound of hoof-beats. A figure leaps over Caitria and lands near the cloaked figure. It is a silver centaur called Firenze. It rears, and the cloaked figure retreats, flying away.]

Firenze: Caitria Potter, you must leave. You are known to many creatures here. The Forest is not safe at this time. Especially for you.

Caitria: But what was that thing you saved me from?

Firenze: A monstrous creature. It is a terrible crime to slay a unicorn. Drinking the blood of a unicorn will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death. But at a terrible price. You have slain something so pure that from the moment the blood touches your lips, you will have a half-life. A cursed life.

“Merlin, who would do such a thing?” Sirius exclaimed.

Caitria arched a brow at him, “can you honestly think of no one?”

Caitria: But who would choose such a life?

Firenze: Can you think of no one?

Caitria: Do you mean to say that thing that killed the unicorn that was drinking its blood, that was Voldemort?

“OH SHIT!”

“YOU SAID HIS NAME?”

“That explains it!”

Evan looked at Rabastan, his brow lost in his hairline. “It does?”

The other boy nodded, “she seems bloody fearless.”

Evan looked back at the woman, her eyes glued on her younger self. Or at least he thought they were... a wicked smirk graced her lips.

“Paint a portrait lover boy, it’ll last longer.”

Evan gulped as his cheeks flamed.

Firenze: Do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment, Ms. Potter?

Caitria: [realizing] The Philosopher's Stone.

[Fang suddenly barks and Caitria looks up to see Hagrid, Hermione, Ron and Draco appear. Hagrid has his crossbow ready but lowers it when he sees Firenze.]

Hermione: Caitria!

Hagrid: Hello there, Firenze. I see you've met our young Ms. Potter. You all right there, Caitria?

[Caitria nods]

Firenze: Caitria Potter, this is where I leave you. You're safe now. Good luck.

[He leaves as the group look at the dead unicorn.]

“That’s it young lady, you are being locked in the highest tower your grandfather can build!” James exclaimed causing his daughter to laugh.

“Oh nothing has happened... yet.”

Chapter Text

Hermione: [she, Caitria, and Ron are meeting in the common room] You mean You–Know–Who’s out there right now in the Forest?

Caitria: But he’s weak. He’s living off the unicorns. Don’t you see? We had it wrong. Snape doesn’t want the Stone for himself. He wants the Stone for Voldemort. With the Elixir of Life, Voldemort will be strong again. He’ll... he’ll come back.

Ron: But if he comes back, you don’t think he’ll try to kill you, do you?

Caitria: I think if he’d had the chance, he might have tried to kill me tonight.

James huffed, “Dad how quickly can we build a tower?”

Fleamont stifled a chuckle seeing his granddaughter’s offended expression.

Ron: [gulps] And to think, I’ve been worrying about my Potions final.

Barty and Regulus snorted at that. Evan shook his head, the red–headed boy definitely knew how to diffuse a situation.

Lily looked over at her daughter sitting near Sirius’ younger brother. Her green eyes soaked in her daughter’s posture, the way her body seemed relaxed and slouched; but the muggleborn knew that wasn’t the truth. She had spent enough time with Sirius to know when one was waiting for an unexpected attack; after all, his brother was the only one who didn’t mind Sirius being a Gryffindor.

Hermione: Hang on a minute. [Caitria and Ron both glance at her] We’re forgetting one thing. Who’s the one wizard Voldemort always feared? Dumbledore. As long as Dumbledore is around, Caitria, you’re safe. As long as Dumbledore is around, you can’t be touched. [She gives Caitria a reassuring smile; the Potter girl just shrugs.]

Caitria gave a sneer at that, something that the Slytherins and Ministry noticed.

[Later all the students are rushing out as they finish their exams.]

Hermione: I’d always heard Hogwarts’ end–of–the–year exams were frightful, but I’ve found that rather enjoyable.

Ron: Speak for yourself. All right there, Caitria?

[Caitria walks next to the two rubbing her forehead right where the scar is.]

Caitria: My scar. It keeps burning.

Hermione: It’s happened before.

Caitria: Not like this.

Ron: Perhaps you should see the nurse.

Barty, whose sharp wit often masked a surprisingly empathetic core, leaned forward, his dark eyes, usually sparkling with sardonic amusement, now fixed with genuine curiosity on Caitria.

“Did your scar often cause you pain?” He inquired, his voice a low murmur, tinged with a concern he rarely allowed to surface.

Caitria met his gaze, a knowing glint in her own eyes that hinted at shared burdens. “There is a reason for that,” she replied cryptically, a hint of future, undoubtedly unpleasant, revelations in her tone. “You’ll learn along the way.”

Barty nodded slowly, absorbing her words, but a furrow of genuine confusion creased his brow. He might jest about dark magic, but unnecessary suffering was something he instinctively recoiled from. His perplexed expression drew a small, amused grin from Caitria, a softening of her features that suggested a budding understanding between them.

“Don’t worry about it, cinnabon,” she said.

The unexpected endearment caused Barty to splutter, a flush creeping up his neck despite his attempts to appear nonchalant. Evan and Regulus, ever ready to seize an opportunity for amusement at their friend’s expense, erupted in poorly stifled snickers. However, their mirth was short-lived.

“Oh, pipe down, sugarplum,” Caitria called out to Evan, her tone light but laced with playful mockery that nonetheless carried a hint of genuine affection. Then, turning to Regulus, she added with a conspiratorial wink, “And you too, sweet pea.”

The effect was immediate and gratifying. Evan’s ears turned a furious shade of red, and Regulus, usually so impeccably composed, stammered, his pale cheeks blooming with colour. They both sputtered indignant protests, their attempts at dignified retorts dissolving into incoherent mumbles about being called such ridiculous, yet somehow not entirely unwelcome, names. Barty watched the exchange with a renewed smirk, his own fleeting embarrassment overshadowed by the delightful discomfiture of his usually unflappable companions. A small, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips – Caitria, he was beginning to realize, had a knack for cutting through their carefully constructed facades.

Caitria: I think it’s a warning. It means danger’s coming. [A look of realization] Ah. Oh! Of course!

[Caitria starts walking faster making Hermione and Ron speed up to catch her]

Hermione: What is it?

Caitria: Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have one? I mean, how many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pocket? Why didn’t I see it before?

Minchum, his gaze sharp and assessing, turned his attention fully to Caitria. A thoughtful expression crossed his stern features.

“Ms. Potter,” he stated, his voice firm and carrying authority, “you possess a remarkable acuity. You would make a fine Auror.”

Beside him, Mad-Eye, his one good eye swiveling with intense scrutiny, let out a gruff grunt of agreement.

“Aye,” he rasped, his voice like gravel. “Sharp as a bloody tack, this one. Observant.”

Amelia offered a curt nod, her own professional assessment mirroring Moody’s. For a girl who appeared to be only eleven in the memory, her awareness of detail and her forthrightness were exceptional. They could only speculate on the capabilities she possessed in her current time.

Caitria smiled, a hint of something knowing and perhaps a touch dangerous playing on her lips.

“Thank you, Minister, Madam Bones, Mad-Eye,” she replied politely. “But I have actually just finished my Masters in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Curse-Breaking. I am scheduled to start my job as a hit-witch next year.”

A collective intake of breath swept through a portion of the room. Sirius’ jaw dropped slightly, his grey eyes widening in undisguised awe. Around him, several of the Slytherin boys, who had previously regarded Caitria with a mixture of curiosity and cautious respect, now looked at her with open admiration.

A hit-witch?

It was an occupation spoken of in hushed whispers, a profession demanding exceptional skill, nerve, and a certain ruthlessness. It was most certainly not a common career path chosen by witches, particularly not one who had seemingly excelled in academic pursuits. The air around Caitria suddenly crackled with a new kind of respect, tinged with a healthy dose of intrigue. This was no ordinary witch.

[They approach Hagrid’s hut who is playing a flute.]

Caitria: Hagrid, [Hagrid stops playing] who gave you the dragon egg? What did he look like?

Hagrid: I dunno. I never saw his face. He kept his hood up.

Caitria: This stranger, though, you and he must have talked.

Hagrid: Well, he wanted to know what sort of creatures I looked after. I told ‘im. I said, “After Fluffy, a dragon’s gonna be no problem.”

Caitria: Did he seem interested in Fluffy?

Hagrid: Well, o’ course he was interested in Fluffy. How often do yeh come across a three–headed dog, even if yer in the trade? But I told ‘im. I said... I said, “The trick with any beast is to know how to calm ‘im. Take Fluffy, for example. Jus’ play him a bit o’ music and he falls straight to sleep.” I shouldn’t have told you that.

[The Trio runs off]

Hagrid: Where’re you goin’? Wait?

[Caitria, Hermione, and Ron run into the Transfiguration classroom to talk to McGonagall.]

Caitria: We have to see Professor Dumbledore, immediately!

McGonagall: I’m afraid Professor Dumbledore is not here. He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and left immediately for London.

“How convenient!” Bellatrix scoffed, earning nods of agreement from majority of the teens, surprisingly including the Gryffindors.

“Ms Black, what are you suggesting?”

“Nothing your pea–sized scheme–loving brain could comprehend, unlike Fawkes!” Caitria snapped at the old man.

Caitria: He’s gone? Now? But this is important! This is about the Philosopher’s Stone!

McGonagall: [Looking shocked] How do you know –

Caitria: Someone’s going to try to steal it!

McGonagall: I don’t know how you three found out about the Stone, but I assure you it is perfectly well protected. Now would you go back to your dormitories? Quietly.

[The three of them leave the classroom talking to each other.]

Caitria rolled her eyes. “That right there is why I never trusted professors to handle things.”

Minerva looked down in shame, but Caitria turned to her, her eyes narrowed.

“In all my years at Hogwarts, it was never a professor who saved the day, who cleaned up messes made by incompetence, no it was myself and my friends.”

Caitria: That was no stranger Hagrid met in the village. It was Snape. Which means he knows how to get past Fluffy.

[Snape sneaks up behind them]

Hermione: And with Dumbledore gone...

Snape: Good afternoon. Now, what would three young Gryffindors such as yourselves be doing inside on a day like this?

[The three of them jump and quickly turn around.]

Hermione: Uh, w–w–w... we–we were just–

Snape: You ought to be careful. People will think you’re... up to something. [Walks away]

Lucius sighed, “not at all suspicious there Severus.”

Severus looked bewildered, causing Caitria to chuckle.

“Yea sorry about all that, but Barbie is right, you really didn’t help the situation.”

Hermione: Now what do we do?

Caitria: [With a determined look] We go down the trapdoor. Tonight.

Chapter Text

[At night–time, in the Gryffindor Common Room, the three friends come down the stairs and begin to walk across the floor. They stop when they hear a croaking noise. It was Trevor, the toad that Neville carried in his hands, way back at the first day of Hogwarts.]

Caitria: Trevor.

Ron: Trevor, shh, go! You shouldn't be here!

Neville: [appears behind a chair] Neither should you. You're sneaking out again, aren't you?

Caitria: Now, Neville, listen. We were –

Neville: No! I won't let you! [stands] You'll get Gryffindor into trouble again! I – I'll fight you. [Neville holds out his fists.]

Hermione: Neville, I'm really, really sorry about this. [takes out wand] Petrificus Totalus.

Those watching gaped in horror.

“Well that was nasty of her.” Fabian muttered.

Molly looked like she was going to say something but with a wave of Caitria’s wand, she disappeared for a stuffed Flobberworm toy to take her place.

[Neville is frozen for a second and he falls backward onto the ground. Hermione puts her wand back.]

Ron: [Gulp] You're a little scary sometimes, you know that? Brilliant, but scary.

Caitria: Let's go. [Walks by Neville, stopping to transfigure her spare scarf as a blanket, and her handkerchief as a pillow.] Sorry.

“Aww so sweet of you.”

Caitria blushed and shrugged.

Hermione: Sorry.

Ron: It's for your own good, you know.

[The three are under the Invisibility cloak, sneaking along the corridor.]

Hermione: Ow! You stood on my foot!

Ron: Sorry. 

[A flame lights up. Caitria draws out her wand and points it at the door.]

Caitria: Alohomora.

[The door opens as the three friends step inside.]

Ron: Wait a minute. He's....

[A blow of air, and the cape flutters off them.]

Ron: Snoring.

Caitria: Snape's already been here. He's put a spell on the harp.

“Again sorry.” Caitria turned to the boy who just nodded his head, silently agreeing with her, he had been acting quite suspicious.

[They approach the sleeping dog.]

Ron: Ugh! It's got horrible breath.

Caitria: We have to move its paw.

Ron: What?

Caitria: Come on! [grabs paw, which is blocking the door.] Okay. Push! [They strain and move it. They open the door.] I'll go first. Don't follow until I give you a sign. [Fluffy's eyes open.] If something bad happens, get yourselves out. Does it seem a bit quiet to you?

Hermione: The harp. It stopped playing.

[Drool from one head comes down on Ron's shoulder.]

Ron: Ew! Yuck! Ugh. 

“That’s gross!”

“Bleh.”

“Ew.”

[All three kids look up and see Fluffy standing there. Fluffy barks and growls, thrashing. It breaks the harp and dives at the three.]

Caitria pouted, “poor Fluffy.”

Rabastan’s jaw dropped. “Poor Fluffy? What about you?”

Caitria grinned, “Fluffy wasn’t going to hurt anyone. He just wanted to play.”

Caitria: Jump! Go! 

[They all jump through the trapdoor.]

Ron: Ahh! [gasps as he lands on some mushy black ropelike vines.] Whoa. Lucky this plant–thing's here, really.

Caitria: Whoa! [The plant begins to move towards them.] Oh. Ahh! [The plant ties both of them up like a rope.]

Hermione: Stop moving, both of you. This is Devil's Snare. You have to relax. If you don't, it will only kill you faster.

Ron: Kill us faster?! Oh, now I can relax!

[Hermione manages a smile as she is sucked down below.]

Ron/Caitria: Hermione!

Ron: Now what are we gonna do?!

Hermione: Just relax!

Caitria: Hermione, where are you?

Hermione: [from below] Do what I say! Trust me.

[Caitria relaxes and is sucked through.]

Ron: Ahh! Caitria!

[Caitria falls through and lands on the hard ground. Hermione goes over to her and she stands up.]

Ron: Caitria!

Hermione: Are you okay?

Caitria: Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.

Ron: Help!

Hermione: He's not relaxing, is he?

“No shit Sherlock!”

The peanut gallery all chortled – those who were worthy of listening to.

Caitria: Apparently not.

Ron: Help! Help me!

Hermione: We've gotta do something!

Caitria: What? Wait, uh! I remember reading something in Herbology.

Ron: Help!

Caitria: Um, Devil's Snare, Devil's Scare, [The snare shuts Ron's mouth] it's deadly fun... but will sulk in the sun! That's it! Devil's Snare hates sunlight! [She takes out her wand and points upwards.] Lumus Solem! [A beam of light shoots out and the Snare shrieks and recoils, causing Ron to fall below.]

Caitria leaned back in her seat, a wry smile playing on her lips, her dark brows arching in mock surprise. “Huh! I forgot that I sometimes actually listened to the professors.”

The casual remark hung in the air, laced with a sharp wit that hinted at a rebellious spirit even in her studious moments.

James and Lily exchanged bewildered glances, their foreheads furrowing in unison. Their daughter, the spirited and often sarcastic girl they knew, admitting to diligently listening to her teachers? It was a notion both amusing and slightly perplexing. Confusion, tinged with a hint of fond exasperation, swam in their eyes.

“What do you mean?” James asked, his voice laced with genuine curiosity and a touch of paternal concern, though he suspected a witty barb was incoming.

Caitria shrugged, a seemingly nonchalant gesture that belied the sharp intelligence glinting in her eyes.

“Well,” she began, her gaze drifting slightly as if recalling a less-than-idyllic past with a characteristic lack of sentimentality, “when your relatives treat you like shit and you happen to inherit a frankly obscene amount of galleons... Well, reading is sometimes all you can do.”

The dryness of her tone and the unexpected turn of phrase drew a few suppressed chuckles from around the room.

While a flicker of sympathy crossed some faces at the mention of her relatives, the overall reaction was less pity and more a recognition of her resilience and sharp tongue. Many looked at her with a mixture of surprise and grudging admiration for her ability to find a silver lining in a less-than-ideal situation. Her mother, Lily, Remus, and Regulus, however, simply nodded, a shared understanding passing between them. They recognized the sharp, resourceful woman who had honed her intellect and wit in the face of neglect, turning adversity into a source of sardonic humour and formidable knowledge.

Ron: Ahhh!

Hermione: Ron, are you okay?

Ron: Yeah.

Caitria: Okay.

Ron: [stands] Whew! Lucky, we didn't panic.

Hermione: [scoffs, eying Caitria with hidden jealousy] Lucky Caitria pays attention in Herbology.

“Gah, she is pissing me off!” Regulus growled, sounding very much like his older brother.

“Awww, don’t worry Reggie, she removes the pole from her ass soon.”

[There is a sound.]

Hermione: What is that?

Caitria: I don't know. Sounds like wings.

Chapter Text

[They enter into a room filled with golden "birds."]

Hermione: Curious. I've never seen birds like these.

“That’s because they aren’t birds!” Regulus, Caitria, James and Sirius all called out.

Caitria: They're not birds. They're keys. And I'll bet one of them fits that door. [They come upon a broomstick, suspended in the air.]

Hermione: What's this all about?

Caitria: I don't know. Strange.

[Ron creeps over to the door and takes out his wand.]

Ron: [rattles lock.] Alohomora! [Shrugs] Well, it was worth a try.

Hermione: [groans in frustration] What're we going to do? There must be a thousand keys up there!

“Does she ever stop bitching?” Bella scoffed. “It’s as if the world would end if she a) didn’t know something or b) wasn’t right about something

Rabastan and Roldolphus looked like they agreed with her assessment of the girl’s character.

Ron: We're looking for a big old fashioned one. Probably rusty like the handle.

Caitria: There! I see it! [points] The one with the broken wing. [She looks at the broom.]

Regulus whistled, “damn Potter, you have some good eyes there.”

Caitria grinned, smirking as she winked at the boy. “Thanks, maybe we should have a race some point while here.”

Regulus nodded grinning.

Evan asked, “how long are you here for? Just the viewing or...”

Caitria shrugged, “haven’t decided –”

Dumbledore interrupted her. “Decided? You know the danger of changing time; you don’t have a choice. You WILL –”

She stood up, her green eyes flashing, her hair lifting and flowing in non–existent wind. Her voice took on an inhumane quality to it, “YOU DARE ORDER ME?”

She hissed at him, “you are nobody to me, you have no control over me. I will do whatever the fuck I want, and no one will tell me otherwise, least of all... you,” she spat at him in disdain and disgust.

Hermione: What's wrong, Caitria?

Caitria: It's too simple.

Ron: Oh, go on, Caitria! If Snape can catch it on that old broomstick, you can! You're the youngest Seeker in a century!

[Caitria nods and grabs the broomstick. All the keys suddenly go one direction, right at Caitria. She climbs on, swiping at them.]

Ron: This complicates things a bit.

Sirius and James chortled.

“Ya think?” Sirius asked sarcastically.

[Caitria pushes off into the air. She flies off, after the key. The others follow her. Caitria grabs the key.]

Caitria: Catch the key!

Regulus turned to the woman, “I am seriously jealous of your skills.”

She cooed at him, “I’ve heard great things about your playing too, mister.”

She snickered at his blush.

[She zooms by and throws the key to Hermione, who catches it and heads for the lock while Caitria distracts the other keys. Hermione puts it in the lock.]

Ron: Hurry up!

[The door opens, and Hermione and Ron rush through, followed by Caitria. They shut the door just as the keys slam up against it.]

[They enter a dark room with broken pieces all around and two rows of giant statues on either side.]

Hermione: I don't like this. I don't like this at all.

Caitria: Where are we? A graveyard?

No one noticed her grimace at the mention of a graveyard, except for the Slytherin boys – Rabastan, Evan, Regulus and Barty – who struggled to keep their eyes on the screen and not her.

Ron: This is no graveyard. [sighs and steps forward, inspecting the statues] It's a chessboard. [flames light up, illuminating the room; Caitria and Hermione come up with him.]

Caitria: There's the door.

[They walk across the board, towards the door. Suddenly, as they reach a line of pawns, the pawns bring up their swords. The three jump and back up.]

“Too easy,” Severus murmured.

Hermione: Now what do we do?

Ron: It's obvious, isn't it? We've got to play our way across the room. Alright. Caitria, you take the empty Bishop's square. Hermione, you'll be the Queen–side castle. As for me, I'll be a knight. [They all take their places.]

Hermione: What happens now?

Ron: [aboard a horse.] Well, white moves first. And then... we play. [A pawn on the other side moves forward. Ron studies the game.]

Hermione: Ron, you don't suppose this is going to be like... real wizard's chess, do you?

Ron: You there, D5. [A black pawn moves forward, diagonal to the white pawn. The white pawn raises its swords and smashes the black one. The three jump.] Yes, Hermione. I think this is going to be exactly like wizard's chess.

“Barbaric!” Lily scoffed.

[The game continues. The pieces smash against each other. Boom! Boom!]

Ron: Castle to E4! [Smash!] Pawn to C3! [Smash! Boom! The Queen turns and smashes a piece! Caitria, Ron, and Hermione wince. The Queen turns again. Both Ron and Caitria study the game.]

Caitria: Wait a minute.

Ron: You understand right, Caitria. Once I make my move, the Queen will take me. Then you're free to check the King.

Caitria: No. Ron, no!

Hermione: What is it?

Caitria: He's going to sacrifice himself!

Arthur gasped while the Flobberworm that was his wife moved out in anguish, fear for their unborn son radiating from the pair.

Hermione: No, Ron, you can't! [Ron closes his eyes.] There must be another way!

Ron: [turns to face Hermione.] Do you want to stop Snape from getting that Stone or not? Caitria, it's you that has to go on. I know it. Not me. Not Hermione. You! [Caitria nods.] Knight to H3.

[Ron's horse moves forward, slides and stops.]

Ron: Check.

[The Queen turns and advances. As she starts moving, Ron breathes faster clutching onto the steel reins. The Queen stops moving. And then... SMASH! The Queen uses her sword to bust the horse's hips.]

Ron: Ahhhh!

[Ron goes flying off the horse and lands on the floor unconsciously. The knight's horse then falls to pieces.]

“Ron!” Arthur yelled out in fear, his eyes locking with Caitria’s.

“He is fine Mr Weasley, trust me.”

The man nodded, smiling softly as his anxiety left his body in a long exhale.

Caitria: RON! [Hermione starts walking to him.] No, don't move! Don't forget, we're still playing. [Hermione moves back. Caitria walks the diagonal in front of the King.] Checkmate. [The King's sword falls onto the ground in victory. Caitria breathes out and then the two run to Ron. They bend beside him.] Take care of Ron. Then go to the owlery. Send a message to Dumbledore. Ron's right. I have to go on.

Hermione: You'll be okay, Caitria. You're a great witch. You really are.

Caitria: Not as good as you.

Hermione: [smile] Me? Books and cleverness? There are more important things. Friendship, and bravery. And Caitria, just be careful.

“Wow, that’s the nicest thing she’s said yet!”

Barty laughed at Sirius’ comment, biting his lip, he didn’t want to lose it.

[Caitria nods and stands, walking away.]

Chapter Text

Caitria: You? [Quirrell turns to face her] Snape, he was the one —

Quirrell: Yes, he does seem the type, doesn't he? Next to him, who would suspect p-p-p-poor, st-stuttering Professor Quirrell?

Caitria: But – but that day, during the Quidditch match, Snape tried to kill me.

Quirrell: [smiling evilly] No, dear girl. I tried to kill you! [Caitria cringes at the use of ‘dear girl’ and eyes him in calculation] And trust me, if Snape's cloak hadn't caught fire and broken my eye contact, I would have succeeded. Even with Snape muttering his little counter curse.

Caitria: Snape was trying to save me? [She huffs, and a small smile pulls at her lips] Well, not everything is as it seems.

James looked over at Severus who looked shocked himself. “Thank you, Snape.”

Lily looked over at her old friend and gave him a weak smile, not quite sure what to make of everything.

Quirrell: I knew you were a danger to me right from the off. Especially after Halloween.

Caitria: Then – You obviously let the troll in!

Quirrell: Very good, Potter, yes. Snape, unfortunately, wasn't fooled. While everyone else was running about the dungeon, he went to the third floor to head me off. He, of course, never trusted me again. [He turns towards the mirror again; Caitria winces as her scar burns again] He rarely left me alone. But he doesn't understand. I'm never alone. Never. [He is staring into the mirror] Now, what does this mirror do? I see what I desire. I see myself holding the Stone. But how do I get it?

Unseen Inhuman Voice: Use the girl. 

[Caitria's brow furrows, her head swiveling in a slow, deliberate arc. Her gaze sweeps across the dusty and the cobweb-draped walls, the mirror glittering in the dancing torch-light. A faint prickle of unease dances on the back of her neck.]

Quirrell: [He turns to her] Come here, Potter! Now! [Caitria approaches the mirror cautiously, her eyes fixed on Quirrell. As she gets closer, her eyes move from her Professor to the mirror. She reaches out a hesitant hand, her fingertips hovering just above its surface.] Tell me, what do you see?

[Caitria’s gaze is drawn back to the mesmerizing depths of the Mirror of Erised. Her breath hitches as the shimmering surface resolves into a new vision. For a fleeting moment, she sees herself standing side-by-side with Quirrell. Then, her reflection’s hand moves, reaching into the pocket of its mirrored pajamas. It withdraws a gleaming object, radiating a vibrant, almost pulsating red light – the Philosopher’s Stone – a perfect ruby catching the ethereal glow of the mirror.]

[Caitria stares in utter amazement, her fear momentarily forgotten in the face of this impossible sight. Her reflection smiles, a knowing, almost conspiratorial curve of its lips, and then winks, a playful gesture that sends a shiver down her spine. The ruby in the reflection’s hand begins to morph, its smooth, gem-like form elongating and transforming into a delicate, shimmering chain. With a fluid movement, the reflection hooks this chain around its own neck, letting the now-disguised Stone fall beneath the fabric of its pajamas, resting against its chest.]

[Simultaneously, Caitria feels a sudden, distinct chill against her own sternum, a surprising coldness that seems to emanate from within her nightclothes. Her fingers instinctively creep up to her neck, and she feels the smooth, cool metal of a fine chain. A locket, shaped subtly differently from the ruby she just witnessed, rests against her skin. The realization dawns with a jolt of understanding: the Stone isn't in her hand anymore; it's on her, cleverly concealed.]

[At the same instant, a noticeable weight settles in the pocket of her own pajamas. Her eyes snap back to the mirror, her mind racing to comprehend the impossible magic at play.]

Quirrell: What is it? [He glances at Caitria while speaking] What do you see?

Caitria: [She looks at Quirrell, then back at the mirror, determined not to let him know that she has the Stone, as her reflection pointed to their pocket and mouthed something] Well, look at me, all bedazzled. Seems my inner Gryffindor finally got something shiny. One has to accessorize after acquiring something so terribly precious, wouldn't you agree?

Bellatrix cackled as she watched the professor be sassed by an eleven-year-old.

Her sisters couldn’t help but agree

Unseen Inhuman Voice: She... lies?

Quirrell: [angrily shouting] Tell the truth! What do you see?

Unseen Inhuman Voice: Let me speak to her.

Quirrell: [as Caitria backs away] Master, you are not strong enough.

Unseen Inhuman Voice: I have strength enough for this.

[Quirrell’s movements become deliberate, almost ritualistic, as his free hand reaches up and begins to unwrap the voluminous turban that perpetually obscures his head. He turns his body slowly, deliberately, so that his back faces the ornate Mirror of Erised, effectively cutting off Caitria’s view of its enigmatic reflections. She glances towards the shadowed archway leading to the staircase, a flicker of desperate hope for escape igniting in her eyes. The thought of bolting, of putting distance between herself and this terrifying man, is a powerful instinct.]

[However, her gaze is drawn back to Quirrell, a morbid fascination holding her captive. He is nearing the completion of his bizarre undressing, only a final length of fabric clinging to the back of his head. With a final, unsettling flourish, he pulls away the last piece of the turban. The sight that is revealed steals Caitria’s breath and chills her to the very core.]

[Where the back of Quirrell’s head should be, there is another face – a horrifying visage of chalk-white skin stretched taut over sharp, angular bone. It is unmistakably Voldemort. The serpentine features are gaunt and skeletal, the nostrils mere slits. Slowly, deliberately, the head cranes around, the neck twisting with an unnatural, unsettling fluidity. Then, the eyes snap open – two crimson slits that burn with malevolent intelligence, fixing their unholy gaze directly upon Caitria.]

Voldemort: Caitria Potter, we meet again.

Caitria: [realizing his identity] Voldemort. Damn, you don’t look too good there, old man. Did you forget your moisturizer? Or perhaps a good night’s sleep? Because, honey, those dark circles are tragic.

“CAITRIA!”

Lily’s voice cracked with a mixture of horror and exasperation, the sound echoing through the suddenly silent chamber. Her emerald eyes were wide with disbelief, fixed on her daughter’s nonchalant admission.

Caitria turned to her mother, her head tilted slightly, one elegant eyebrow arched in a picture of utter nonchalance.

“What?” She asked, the single word dripping with innocent inquiry that was clearly anything but.

The tension in the room, however, was immediately broken by a burst of unrestrained laughter. James, who had been teetering on the edge of amusement for several moments, finally succumbed, his shoulders shaking with mirth. Sirius, never one to miss an opportunity for irreverence, joined in with a loud bark of laughter. Soon, Evan, Regulus, Rabastan, and Barty were also chuckling, their amusement fuelled by Caitria’s audacious deadpan.

Lily, however, was far from finding the situation funny. She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, her expression a mixture of maternal worry and exasperated disbelief.

“Did you have to antagonise a killer?” She demanded, the gravity of the situation heavy in her tone.

Caitria paused, her brow furrowing slightly as she actually considered the question. Her gaze drifted upwards in thought for a fleeting moment, as if weighing the pros and cons of her past actions. Then, her eyes snapped back to her mother, her expression utterly deadpan, devoid of any hint of remorse or second-guessing.

“Yes.”

The single word, delivered with such unwavering conviction, only served to send another wave of laughter through the more irreverent members of the audience, while Lily could only shake her head in bewildered despair.

Voldemort: [He glares at the girl] Yes. You see what I've become? See what I must do to survive? Live off another. A mere parasite. Unicorn blood can sustain me, but it cannot give me a body of my own. But there is something that can. Something that, conveniently enough, lies in your pocket.

[Voldemort’s hissed demand for the Stone finally registers, cutting through Caitria’s momentary amusement. Her eyes widen in dawning comprehension – the gaunt face wasn’t just making small talk about her fashion sense. With a sharp, sassy retort dying on her lips, Caitria whirls around, her earlier bravado replaced by a sudden surge of self-preservation, before turning tail and sprinting back up the stone staircase with surprising speed, her pajamas flapping behind her like a defiant white flag.]

Caitria: Right, pleasantries over.

Voldemort: Stop her! [Quirrell snaps his fingers, instantly causing fire walls to block all the exits, trapping Caitria in the room] Don't be a fool. Why suffer a horrific death when you can join me and live?

Caitria: [shakes her head] Never!

Voldemort: Haha. Bravery. Your parents had it too. Tell me, Caitria, would you like to see your mother and father again? Together, we can bring them back. [In the mirror, Caitria's parents appear in the reflection, smiling loveingly at her.] All I ask for is something in return. [Caitria takes the Stone from her pocket, letting it roll in her palm.] That's it, Caitria. There is no good and evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it. Together, we'll do extraordinary things. Just give me the Stone!

[James and Lily Potter fade from the reflection]

Caitria: You liar!

Many of the Purebloods looked ill at the idea of dangling an orphan’s dead parents in front of them. They had to respect her strength, her willpower, as none of them believed they could have held on so strongly with the promise of their loved ones returned to them.

Voldemort: Kill her!

[Driven by unseen command, Quirrell launches himself into the air with surprising speed, his movements jerky and unnatural. He swoops down upon Caitria, his eyes burning with a terrifying intensity, and his hand, gnarled and surprisingly strong, clamps around her throat. The impact of his grip is immediate and brutal, crushing her windpipe. They plummet from their brief elevation, landing heavily on the stone steps with a sickening thud that jars Caitria's small frame. The Philosopher's Stone, dislodged by the fall, skitters across the cold stone, rolling just out of her desperate reach.]

[Quirrell’s grip tightens mercilessly, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, cutting off her air supply. Caitria’s hands claw uselessly at his arm, her face rapidly turning an alarming shade of purple. She strains against his hold, her small body convulsing, a strangled, high-pitched squeak escaping her constricted throat – a sound of pure terror and desperation. In a surge of adrenaline and instinct, her hand shoots up and clamps down on his hand that is vise-like around her neck. The moment her skin makes contact, a visible reaction erupts. Wisps of acrid, grey smoke begin to unfurl from beneath her touch, curling and twisting like angry serpents. A hiss, sharp and involuntary, escapes Quirrell’s lips, his eyes widening in a flicker of pain and surprise as the unseen force emanating from Caitria begins to burn his flesh.]

Quirrell: Ahh! Ahh! [He backs up away from Caitria. His hand is crumbling into ash and dust.] What is this magic? [His hand disintegrates]

Voldemort: Fool, get the Stone!

[Quirrell shuffles forward, his eyes burning with a fanatic gleam, fixated on Caitria. Her small hands, trembling slightly but resolute, reach out and make contact with his face. The moment her skin touches his, a shriek of unimaginable agony tears from his throat, a raw, animalistic sound that makes spines crawl. Even the shadowy visage of Voldemort, melded to the back of Quirrell’s head, recoils visibly, his serpentine features contorting in a silent wince of shared torment.]

[Caitria’s eyes widen in sheer horror as she witnesses the immediate and grotesque effect of her touch. Quirrell stumbles backward, his skin smoking and blistering where her fingers had been, the flesh peeling away in grotesque curls, revealing raw, red muscle underneath. A sickly sweet stench of burnt flesh fills the air. He continues his involuntary retreat, his body beginning to disintegrate. Patches of his skin turn to grey ash, flaking off like burnt paper, revealing the skeletal structure beneath. With each shuffling step, more of him crumbles, his form becoming less and less human until finally, with a soft, whispery collapse, he is nothing more than a pile of grey dust and the empty shell of his robes.]

[Caitria gasps, her breath catching in her throat, her gaze fixated on her own hands, now tingling with a strange, residual heat. She scrambles towards the fallen Stone, her movements jerky and panicked. She snatches it up, her fingers closing around its cool, solid surface, and lets out a shaky sigh of relief. But the reprieve is short-lived. From the silent mound of Quirrell’s remains, dark, swirling dust clouds begin to rise and gather.]

[Caitria whirls around, her eyes widening in fresh terror as the dust takes on a distinct, malevolent form – the gaunt, serpentine face of Voldemort, his red eyes burning with unholy fury. The spectral face screams, a high-pitched, chilling sound that seems to pierce straight into her soul, and lunges forward, passing directly through her small body. A scream of pure violation and searing pain is ripped from her own throat as the icy touch of the malevolent spirit invades her. Voldemort’s shadowy form dissipates and flees, leaving Caitria to crumple to the cold stone floor, her consciousness fading into darkness. Her small hand remains outstretched, the Philosopher's Stone clutched tightly in her grasp.]

“CAITRIA!”

“PUP!”

“CUB!”

“HOLY MERLIN!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Caitria, or rather her consciousness observing from a detached perspective, let out a weary sigh as the wave of panicked reactions washed over her. The observers’ hackles were well and truly raised, their faces a mixture of fear, outrage, and utter disbelief at the sight of her unconscious body. Personally, she found their level of alarm somewhat… excessive. But then again, her own internal barometer for what constituted a crisis was rather skewed. Years of neglect, near-death experiences, and a general abundance of trauma had effectively desensitized her to the more run-of-the-mill dangers of the wizarding world. Year one, in her jaded hindsight, had actually been one of her tamer years, a relatively gentle introduction to the chaos that seemed to follow her like a shadow.

‘Merlin,’ she thought dryly, a touch of dark humour colouring her internal monologue, ‘if they’re acting like this after this year, how in bloody hell are they going to handle the basilisk, the dementors, or bloody Umbridge?’

The prospect of their future reactions filled her with a weary amusement. This was just the beginning.

Chapter Text

[The sterile scent of antiseptic hangs heavy in the air of the hospital wing. Sunlight, still weak with the dawn, filters through the tall windows, casting pale rectangles onto the linoleum floor. Caitria lies nestled amongst crisp white sheets, her left arm swathed in thick bandages that feel stiff and alien against her skin. A low groan escapes her lips as her eyelids flutter open, the lingering ache in her arm a sharp reminder of the previous day's events. Her body protests the movement, each nerve ending sending a jolt of discomfort.]

[Her vision swims, the edges of the room blurry and indistinct. As her eyes gradually focus, a figure begins to coalesce in front of her bed. It's a man, his features still soft and indistinct in her sleep-addled state. A jolt of pure terror shoots through Caitria. Her breath hitches in her throat, and a strangled hiss escapes her lips. It was way too bloody early to be confronted with a face like that! Her heart hammers against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. She blinks rapidly, trying to clear the lingering fog from her eyes and make sense of the shadowy form looming over her. ]

Dumbledore: Good afternoon, Caitria. Ah. Tokens from your admirers?

A ripple of snickers spread through the ranks of Slytherins and a few others who had been on the verge of heckling the slumbering old man. The thought of waking to that face was undeniably amusing.

Bellatrix, her dark curls cascading over her shoulders, turned to her husband. A possessive pride shone in her eyes.

“She is brilliant, isn’t she, love?” She murmured, her voice a low, conspiratorial purr.

Rodolphus met her gaze, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“Indeed,” he agreed, his eyes flicking towards a particular point across the carriage. “Have you noticed how neither Barty nor my brother have been able to tear their eyes away from her?”

Bellatrix had certainly observed the unwavering attention. A gleam of wicked mischief ignited in her dark eyes. She subtly turned her head, her gaze finding her sisters, Narcissa and Andromeda. With a barely perceptible flick of her eyes, she directed their attention towards the two enthralled young men.

Narcissa, with her elegant blonde hair and cool composure, let out a soft, silvery giggle, her gaze settling on their cousin, Sirius. He sat a few seats away, his handsome face a mask of barely suppressed fury, as if he longed to unleash a volley of hexes on both Rabastan and Barty.

Andromeda, ever the more outwardly rebellious of the sisters, offered a louder, more unrestrained laugh, her attention fixed on their younger cousin, Regulus. He sat stiffly, a deep frown creasing his brow, his expression radiating a fierce, almost territorial protectiveness.
Bellatrix’s lips curved into a predatory smile.

‘Mmm,’ she thought, her mind already spinning with possibilities. ‘Food for thought, indeed.’

Caitria: Admirers? [Her eyes dart around the room, taking in the chaoticness of what must have been a small celebration. Colourful cards, some slightly askew, lean against the side table, their cheerful greetings a stark contrast to the otherwise undisturbed atmosphere of the room. Scattered amongst them are stray pieces of brightly wrapped candy, a few still whole, others with torn edges suggesting hasty unwrapping. A half-eaten chocolate frog lies on a nearby table, its cardboard wizard card peeking out from beneath it. The air still carries a faint, sweet scent of sugar and paper.]

Dumbledore: What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret. So, naturally, the whole school knows. [He smiles.] Ah, I see your friend Ronald has saved you the trouble of opening your Chocolate Frogs.

Caitria: Ron was here? Is he all right? What about Hermione?

Dumbledore: Fine. They're both just fine.

Caitria: But what happened to the Stone?

Dumbledore: Relax, dear girl. The Stone has been destroyed. My friend Nicholas and I had a little chat and agreed it was best all around.

Caitria: [One again cringing at the Headmaster’s use of ‘dear girl’ too similar with Vernon. Not to mention she wasn’t his anything.] But then, Flamel, he'll die, won't he?

Dumbledore: [sits on the bed.] He has enough Elixir to set his affairs in order. But yes, he will die.

[Caitria lets out a short, frustrated puff of air, her gaze fixed on the muted floral pattern of the wallpaper. A fierce determination hardens her eyes, a stark contrast to the weariness etched around them. 'No, he won't,' she thinks vehemently, a silent promise echoing in the confines of her mind. The moment her feet touch the cool floorboards beside this infernal bed, a plan will be set in motion. Her fingers twitch slightly beneath the thin blanket, as if already grasping the smooth, cool weight of the necklace. That particular necklace, a recent and potent acquisition, will be dispatched with swift and decisive purpose. A small, almost imperceptible smile plays on her lips at the mental image of its journey, a necklace on its way directly at its true owner.]

Caitria: How is it I got the Stone, sir? One minute I was staring in the mirror, and the next...

Dumbledore: Ah. You see, only a person who wanted to find the Stone, find it, but not use it, would be able to get it. That is one of my more brilliant ideas. And between you and me that is saying something.

Caitria: Does that mean, with the Stone gone, that is, that Voldemort can never come back?

Dumbledore: Ah, I'm afraid there are ways in which he can return. Caitria, do you know why Professor Quirrell couldn't bear to have you touch him? [Caitria shakes her head.] It was because of your mother. She sacrificed herself for you. And that kind of act leaves a mark. [Caitria touches her scar.] No, no, this kind of mark cannot be seen. It lives in your very skin.

Caitria: What is it?

Dumbledore: Love, Caitria. Love. [Pats Caitria's head gently and stands up.] Ah. Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. I was most unfortunate in my youth to come across a vomit-flavoured one. And since then, I'm afraid I've lost my liking for them. But I think I could be safe with a nice toffee. [He reaches into the box, his fingers brushing against several of the beans before selecting one. The bean is dark, almost black, slightly oblong in shape and bearing the faint, uneven texture of dried earth. He brings it to his lips and with a small, almost silent movement, he places the bean in his mouth. A slight crunching sound can be heard as he bites down, followed by a slow, deliberate chewing. His eyes remain fixed on some unseen point in the distance as he methodically consumes the simple, brown bean.] Mm. Alas! Earwax.

A collective reaction rippled through the peanut gallery, ranging from suppressed giggles to outright guffaws.

Sirius roared with laughter. "Earwax! Brilliant! The so-called-great Albus Dumbledore, brought low by a rogue earwax bean!"

Bella covered her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, the irony! After all that careful consideration!"

Barty stared, his dramatic flair momentarily forgotten in genuine surprise. "Earwax? Really? Not even something mildly unpleasant like pepper or vomit?"

Gideon and Fabian exchanged knowing glances, a shared history of unfortunate Bertie Bott's encounters evident in their expressions.

Gideon huffed, "Serves him right for being so confident."

Fabian nodded, "Never underestimate the power of a truly awful Bertie Bott's. It humbles even the best of us."

[Caitria, the white of her fresh arm bandage a stark contrast against her skin, steps into the dimly lit corridor. The air here is still and carries the faint scent of old parchment and dust. Her footsteps echo softly on the stone floor as she moves further in. Above her, on a landing that juts out over the stairwell, two figures are engrossed in hushed conversation. Hermione, her brown hair catching the meager light, is leaning against the ornate iron railing, her expression earnest. Beside her, Ron nods intently, his long frame also bent over the balustrade.]

[Their heads snap up in unison as Caitria appears below. The murmur of their voices ceases abruptly. Hermione's eyes, sharp and intelligent, widen slightly as they land on Caitria. Ron's freckled face registers a mixture of surprise and concern. They both straighten up, their previous intimacy dissolving as they focus on her, smiles spreading quickly at seeing her.]

Caitria: All right there, Ronnie?

Ron: [A wide, unrestrained grin splits his face as he spots the girl. Without hesitation, he launches himself forward, his arms wrapping around her in a tight, playful tackle. She stumbles slightly at the sudden impact but laughs, her own arms instinctively going around him, hugging him just as fiercely in return. They sway together for a moment, a tangle of limbs and happy sighs, holding each other close in the joy of reunion.] All right. You?

Caitria: [as she shrugs] All right. Hermione?

Hermione: [smiling] Never better.

[The Great Hall buzzes with the lively chaos of a student body at ease. Forks clink against plates laden with food, and a hundred different conversations weave together into a comforting hum. Above the long tables, house banners hang proudly. Tonight, the emerald green and silver of Slytherin dominate, their serpent emblem a clear indicator of their current lead in house points, a fact that likely fuels the smug expressions on many Slytherin faces.]

[At the head table, bathed in the warm glow of the enchanted candles floating overhead, Professor Dumbledore sits with his usual serene expression. He catches the eye of Professor McGonagall, her sharp gaze already sweeping across the hall, and offers a subtle nod. Understanding the unspoken cue, Professor McGonagall, her lips pressed into a thin line of anticipation, raises her silver spoon and sharply taps it against her crystal goblet.]

[The sound, though small, cuts through the convivial noise like a chime. Gradually, conversation lulls, heads turn, and the clatter of cutlery softens. Within moments, the Great Hall is enveloped in a hush, all eyes turning towards the head table. Dumbledore slowly rises to his feet, his presence immediately commanding attention. His eyes, twinkling with their characteristic wisdom and amusement, scan the silent students. Then, with a gentle wave of his hand, his voice, amplified by an unseen magic, resonates through the vast hall, clear and carrying to every corner. ]

Dumbledore: Another year gone. And now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding. And the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor with 312 points. 

[A smattering of polite applause ripples through the hall, a medium level of clapping that comes mostly from the Gryffindor table, though a few sympathetic claps can be heard elsewhere.] 

Dumbledore: Third place, Hufflepuff with 352 points.

[The applause for Hufflepuff is noticeably warmer and slightly louder than that for Gryffindor, a nod to their consistent hard work and amiable nature.]

Dumblore: In second place, Ravenclaw with 426 points. 

[This announcement is met with more enthusiastic applause, punctuated by a few cheers and whistles from the proud Ravenclaws, acknowledging their intellectual prowess.] 

Dumbledore: And in first place, with 472 points, Slytherin house.

[An immediate and deafening roar erupts from the Slytherin table. Students leap to their feet, a sea of green and silver, their cheers echoing off the high stone walls. They clap themselves on the back, their faces flushed with triumph and smug satisfaction. Hermione Granger, seated at the Gryffindor table, scowls, her hand instinctively going to her cheek in a gesture of frustration. At the head table, Professor Snape offers a slow, deliberate applause towards the students of his victorious house, a rare hint of a satisfied smirk playing on his thin lips.]

Draco: Nice one, mate. [Emboldened by his house's victory, turns his pale, pointed face towards Ron Weasley, a wide, mocking sneer twisting his lips. His silver eyes glint with amusement at the red-head's obvious displeasure.]

Dumbledore: Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin. Well done, Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account. And I have a few last-minute points to award. 

[A ripple of anticipation spreads through the Gryffindor table. Several faces, previously downcast, lift with a flicker of hope, their eyes fixed on the Headmaster.]

Dumbledore: To Miss Hermione Granger, for the cool use of intellect while others were in grave peril, 50 points. 

[Hermione's expression transforms into one of undisguised smugness. A small, knowing smile plays on her lips as she meets the appreciative gazes of her fellow Gryffindors. Her posture straightens almost imperceptibly, a silent acknowledgment of their admiration. Around her, the Gryffindor table erupts in enthusiastic applause. Hands clap loudly, some students even whistling and cheering her name. The sound is a burst of red and gold pride cutting through the lingering silence of the hall, a clear declaration of their support and excitement. Their cheers echo off the high stone walls, a vibrant contrast to the more reserved reactions from the other houses. ]

Percy: [Ever the stickler for rules and propriety, offers Hermione a stiff but sincere pat on the back. His usual air of self-importance softens slightly as he nods approvingly, conveying a rare moment of genuine praise for his younger housemate's intellect and bravery.] Good job.

[At the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy's pale face tightens with displeasure. His silver eyes narrow as he observes the Gryffindor celebration, his lips curling into a sneer. On either side of him, his hulking companions, Crabbe and Goyle, mirror his animosity. Crabbe's heavy brow furrows, while Goyle's thickset jaw clenches visibly. They exchange disgruntled glances, clearly unimpressed by Hermione's success and the ensuing Gryffindor uproar.]

[Meanwhile, Hermione's gaze drifts towards the staff table, seeking out a familiar, comforting presence. Her eyes lock with Hagrid's. The half-giant's bushy beard twitches, and a wide, genuine smile spreads across his weathered face. His large, dark eyes crinkle at the corners with obvious pride as he looks back at Hermione, offering her a silent, heartfelt congratulation. ]

Dumbledore: Second, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen these many years, 50 points. 

[Ron's ears visibly redden as his name is called. A look of utter surprise washes over his face, his mouth slightly agape. He glances around, as if unsure if he's heard correctly, his blue eyes wide with disbelief. A slow grin then spreads across his face, a mixture of sheepishness and genuine delight.]

[The Gryffindor table, already animated from Hermione's recognition, erupts into an even more thunderous wave of applause. Cheers and whistles intensify, and several students leap to their feet, their enthusiasm practically shaking the long wooden table. Fred and George Weasley are particularly boisterous, whooping and banging their tankards on the table with unrestrained glee. The noise is a joyous cacophony of red and gold pride, a testament to their affection and admiration for their friend. The sheer volume of their celebration easily drowns out the more polite clapping from the other houses.] 

Dumbledore: And third, to Ms. Caitria Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house 60 points.

[Caitria's heart leaps into her throat as her name echoes through the Great Hall. A flush of surprise and a thrill of elation surge through her. For a moment, she's frozen, her gaze darting around as if to confirm she hasn't misheard. Then, a wide, genuine smile blossoms on her face.]

[The Gryffindor table explodes into another wave of deafening cheers, this time reaching a fever pitch that seems to vibrate the very air. It's a raucous, unrestrained outpouring of joy and pride, even louder and more fervent than their previous celebrations. Fred and George are practically dancing in their seats, their whoops and hollers leading the charge, while others stomp their feet and clap with unrestrained enthusiasm.]

[Across the hall, at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy's face contorts into a mask of utter distaste. His lips purse, and his eyes narrow, his whole demeanor radiating a cringing disapproval of the Gryffindor triumph. He pointedly avoids looking in Caitria's direction.]

[Turning her gaze towards the staff table, Caitria's eyes meet those of Professor McGonagall. The stern Transfiguration professor is beaming, a rare and heartwarming smile gracing her usually serious features. Her eyes sparkle with undisguised pride as she offers Caitria a small, encouraging nod. A wave of warmth washes over Caitria at the sight of her Head of House's approval.]

[Beside Caitria, Hermione, her brow furrowed in concentration for a fleeting moment, suddenly beams, her eyes widening with understanding. She leans closer to Ron and a few other nearby Gryffindors. ]

Hermione: We're tied with Slytherin!

[A tangible shift occurs amongst the Gryffindor contingent. The initial elation of individual recognition now coalesces into a collective surge of hope. Their cheers, though still enthusiastic, take on a slightly more expectant quality. Eyes dart towards the head table, fixed on Dumbledore, their expressions a mixture of anticipation and fervent wishing. They lean forward slightly in their seats, their earlier celebratory abandon tempered by a newfound awareness of the bigger picture. The possibility of a dramatic turn in the house points, hinted at by Hermione's quick calculation, hangs palpably in the air, fueling their eager attention to the Headmaster's next words. The green and silver banners above the Slytherin table, while still prominent, no longer seem quite so insurmountable in the hopeful gazes of the Gryffindors. ]

Dumbledore: And finally, it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award 10 points to Neville Longbottom. 

[Neville Longbottom freezes, his round face registering utter disbelief. His jaw drops slightly, and his eyes widen behind his nervous gaze as Dumbledore's words sink in. He glances around, a picture of bewildered astonishment, as if seeking confirmation that he hasn't dreamt the announcement. A slow blush creeps up his neck and spreads across his cheeks.]

[The Gryffindors who overheard Hermione's excited whisper erupt into a final, even more deafening roar. Understanding the implications of Neville's points, their cheers are a triumphant explosion of elation and disbelief. They exchange thrilled glances, their earlier hope now solidified into joyous certainty. Fred and George are practically standing on their benches, waving their arms and yelling Neville's name with unrestrained enthusiasm. Hermione beams, clapping her hands together with delight, while Ron lets out a whoop of pure excitement, thumping Neville on the back.]

[Across the hall, Draco Malfoy's earlier smugness has completely evaporated. His pale face is now etched with uncertainty. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his silver eyes flicking nervously towards the Gryffindor table and then back to Dumbledore. His usual confident sneer is gone, replaced by a look of bewildered apprehension. The overwhelming joy and the sheer number of points awarded to Gryffindor seem to have shaken his conviction, leaving him looking distinctly uneasy about the shifting tides of the house cup competition. ] 

Dumbledore: Assuming that my calculations are correct, I believe that a change of decoration is in order. [With a wide, benevolent smile gracing his lips, he begins to clap slowly, his hands meeting with a soft, rhythmic sound. With a gentle, sweeping motion of his hands towards the Slytherin banners hanging high above, a magical transformation begins. The emerald green and silver fabric ripples and flaps heavily, as if caught in a sudden, invisible gust of wind. The serpent emblem seems to writhe and distort before the colors begin to bleed and swirl, the cold, steely tones gradually yielding to vibrant scarlet and gleaming gold. The change accelerates, the Slytherin crest fading completely as the majestic lion of Gryffindor materializes in its place. Soon, all the Slytherin banners are gone, replaced by proud Gryffindor standards that now dominate the Great Hall, their golden lion emblazoned on a rich red field, a visual testament to their hard-won victory.] Gryffindor wins the House Cup.

[The transformation of the banners ignites a fresh wave of thunderous applause that sweeps through the Great Hall. While the Gryffindor celebration reaches a fever pitch of unrestrained jubilation, the clapping and cheering are not confined to the red and gold table alone. A significant portion of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students join in the enthusiastic ovation. Relief and genuine pleasure are evident on their faces as they clap loudly, some even exchanging delighted smiles. For the first time in seven long years, the iron grip of Slytherin on the House Cup has been broken, and the other two houses wholeheartedly share in the triumph of a different victor. Their applause is a clear indication of their satisfaction at seeing a shift in the established order, a welcome change from the years of Slytherin dominance. ]

Hagrid: Yes!

[A wave of celebratory chaos washes over the Great Hall. In a spontaneous outpouring of joy, students from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff alike snatch their pointed hats from their heads and hurl them into the air. A flurry of black, blue, bronze, yellow, and black headwear fills the enchanted ceiling, swirling amongst the floating candles like a joyous storm.]

[At the Slytherin table, however, the atmosphere is starkly different. Draco Malfoy, his face a mask of bitter defeat, snatches his own pristine black hat from his head and throws it down onto the polished wood of the table with a sharp, angry thud. The gesture is a clear display of his profound displeasure and the crushing disappointment of his house's loss.]

[Around Caitria, the Gryffindor students are a whirlwind of congratulatory energy. They pat her on the back, ruffle her hair, and shower her with excited words of praise. Beaming faces lean in, offering high-fives and enthusiastic shouts of praise. Caitria, her heart swelling with happiness, returns their smiles, feeling a deep sense of camaraderie and shared triumph. Her gaze then finds Hagrid across the hall at the staff table. The half-giant's face is split by a wide, proud grin, his eyes twinkling with genuine affection. Caitria beams back at him, a silent acknowledgment of his unwavering support.]

[The scene begins to fade, the vibrant colors of the celebrating students and the swirling hats gradually dissolving into an all-encompassing blackness. As the darkness deepens, thirteen simple words appear in stark white against the void, hanging in the darkness, their simplicity belying the profound and resonant meaning they carry. ]

‘Is it wrong of me to think Dumbledore wasn’t fair to the Slytherins?’

[Later, the crisp June air of the Scottish Highlands carries the mingled scents of coal smoke and damp earth as students mill about Hogsmeade Station. The end-of-term excitement is palpable, a buzzing energy that overlays the bittersweet feeling of leaving Hogwarts for the summer. Trunks, some battered and overflowing, others gleaming and new, are being hauled and levitated onto the scarlet Hogwarts Express, its steam hissing gently like a slumbering beast.]

[Groups of students, their robes now slightly travel-worn, cluster together, exchanging last-minute promises to write and plans for the holidays. Laughter rings out amidst the calls of farewell and the rhythmic squeak of luggage wheels on the platform. Owls, their cages jostling precariously atop trolleys, hoot softly, adding to the general hubbub. The platform is a vibrant tapestry of house colors – flashes of scarlet and gold, the cool gleam of silver and green, the steady warmth of yellow and black, and the thoughtful hues of blue and bronze – all moving with a shared sense of journey's end and the anticipation of home. The looming silhouette of Hogwarts castle can be seen in the distance, a majestic backdrop to the temporary chaos of departure. ]

Hagrid: Come on, now. Hurry up, you'll be late. Train's leaving. Go on. Go on. Come on, hurry up.

[Caitria carefully lifts Hedwig's cage, the snowy owl hooting softly within. She approaches a burly train conductor, his uniform slightly rumpled, who offers a kind smile. With a gentle word to Hedwig, reassuring her about the journey, Caitria hands over the cage, ensuring it's securely taken.]

[Turning, she walks towards an open carriage door, Ron already waiting beside it, his trunk having been wrestled aboard moments earlier. He catches sight of Hagrid standing a little apart from the bustling crowd, his large frame unmistakable even from a distance. A wide grin spreads across Ron's face, and he raises a hand in a final wave. Hagrid, his own face etched with a fond smile, returns the gesture with an enormous, mittened hand that dwarfs everyone else's. With a final glance at the gentle giant, Ron steps up into the train carriage, turning back to offer Caitria a hand.]  

Ron: Come on, Caitria.

Caitria: One minute. 

[Leaving the doorway where Ron waits, Caitria walks towards Hagrid. The crowd around them thins slightly as the last few students hurry to board the train, leaving a small pocket of relative calm around the gentle giant. Caitria's footsteps are light on the gravel as she approaches, her gaze fixed on Hagrid's kind face. The familiar scent of woodsmoke and something vaguely earthy clings to his large frame, a comforting aroma that speaks of his hut by the Forbidden Forest.]  

Hagrid: Thought you were leaving without saying goodbye, did you? [His large, calloused hand disappears into the depths of his voluminous moleskin coat. After a moment, he pulls out a thick, red leather-bound album. The leather is worn and softened with age, and Caitria can see the faintest impressions of countless touches on its surface. He holds it out to her, his big fingers carefully supporting its weight.] This is for you.

[Caitria carefully takes the album from Hagrid's outstretched hands. The leather feels warm and comforting beneath her fingertips. With a sense of gentle anticipation, she opens the front cover. Her breath hitches slightly as her eyes fall upon the first picture. It's a moving photograph, the figures within it shifting and alive. A younger version of herself, barely more than a baby, is nestled securely in the arms of her parents. Her mother's radiant smile beams out from the picture, her eyes sparkling with love, while her father stands proudly beside her, a hand resting protectively on their backs, a happy grin illuminating his face. Baby Caitria gurgles and waves a tiny fist, her parents mirroring the gesture with enthusiastic waves of their own. A soft smile spreads across Caitria's face, a bittersweet warmth filling her chest as she gazes at the fleeting image of a family she barely remembers. ]  

James and Lily sniffled as tears ran down their cheeks. That was such a lovely gift for Hagrid to give their daughter.

Caitria saw them and smiled softly, times like this just reminded her that her parents should have lived, not her.

Caitria: Thanks, Hagrid. [A genuine warmth spreads through Caitria as she looks up at Hagrid, her smile still lingering. She closes the album gently, holding it close to her chest for a moment. Then, reaching out, she takes one of his enormous hands in both of hers, her smaller fingers dwarfed by his calloused ones. She gives it a firm shake, her gratitude evident in her eyes. Letting go of his hand, she steps forward and wraps her arms around his broad waist, hugging him tightly. His large frame is solid and comforting, and she presses her cheek against the rough fabric of his coat, feeling a deep affection for this gentle giant who has shown her so much kindness.]

Hagrid: Oh. Go on. On with you. On with you now. Oh, listen, Caitria. If that dolt of a cousin of yours, Dudley, gives you any grief, you could always, um, threaten him with a nice pair of ears to go with that tail of his.

Caitria: But Hagrid, we're not allowed to do magic away from Hogwarts. You know that.

Hagrid: I do. But your cousin don't, do he? Eh? [A deep, rumbling chuckle emanates from Hagrid's chest, the sound warm and comforting like a gentle earthquake. His large arms come up and carefully encircle Caitria in a brief, fatherly squeeze. She can feel the solid beat of his heart beneath his thick coat.] Off you go.

Everyone chuckled, shaking their heads. Whereas Molly, still in her flobberworm form squeaked horrified while Dumbledore frowned in disappointment and Fudge merely screamed in anger.

Lily sighed, her grin blinding, “Sadly Petunia knows we can’t use magic while at home.”

Caitria gave her mother a look, “Huh… guess she forgot then.”

[Releasing her hug, Caitria steps back, her smile still soft. She gives Hagrid one last, grateful look before turning and walking back towards the Hogwarts Express. Ron and Hermione are standing just inside the open carriage door, their figures silhouetted against the dim interior. Hermione leans out slightly, a warm smile on her face, while Ron stands beside her, a hint of impatience in his posture but his expression friendly. The whistle of the train gives a short, sharp blast, a clear indication that departure is imminent.]

Hermione: Feels strange to be going home, doesn't it?

Caitria: I'm not going home. Not really.

[The train emits a long, mournful whistle, a final call before its departure. Caitria reaches the carriage door where Hermione and Ron are waiting, and they help her climb aboard. The rhythmic chug of the engine begins, a low rumble that steadily increases as the train slowly lurches forward. Through the window of their compartment, the platform begins to slide past. Caitria finds a window seat and leans out, her gaze fixed on Hagrid. He stands where she left him, his large figure a comforting landmark against the receding station. She raises her hand and waves, a fond farewell to her gentle protector. Hagrid spots her and lifts his own massive hand in return, his wave a broad, sweeping gesture. As the train picks up speed, his attention shifts, and he begins to wave to other students leaning out of various windows, his smile encompassing them all. The scene outside blurs with increasing speed, the colors of the platform and the waving figures softening as the train pulls away from Hogsmeade Station, carrying its precious cargo of students towards their summer holidays. The screen slowly pans upwards, taking in the entirety of the departing train, a scarlet serpent snaking its way through the lush green landscape, with the small figures of waving students visible in its windows. Hagrid's large, solitary form becomes smaller and smaller in the distance, his final wave a poignant farewell. Gradually, the vibrant scene softens and fades into a final, peaceful blackness.]

Chapter Text

A stunned silence descended upon the room. Every audience member sat frozen in their seats, mouths agape in collective stupefaction. A whirlwind of disbelief and shock churned through their minds. 'Did that truly just happen?' and 'That was only her first year?' were the unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air.

In their secluded corner, Lily and James were a picture of parental anguish, silent tears tracing paths down their pale cheeks. Their closest friends and family were no better. Fleamont and Euphemia exchanged worried glances between the screen and their granddaughter, as if needing constant visual confirmation that she was, in that present moment, unharmed. Sirius and Remus both emitted low, guttural growls under their breaths, a shared fury simmering at the maltreatment their goddaughter and niece had endured. Peter, his brow furrowed in a deep frown, stared at the projected image of Dumbledore, a newfound distrust clouding his perception of the Headmaster's grandfatherly facade.

Across the room, Rabastan and Barty mirrored Fleamont and Euphemia's anxious vigil, their eyes flitting between the screen and Caitria, a silent acknowledgment of the girl's suffering. Regulus, Rodolphus, Bellatrix, Narcissa, Andromeda, and their respective partners all seethed with a palpable rage at the injustices inflicted upon Caitria.

Caitria herself released a long, weary sigh and leaned back in her seat, her knuckles bone-white from the intensity with which she had been clenching her fists. She turned her gaze to observe the reactions of those around her, a somber thought echoing in her mind.

'That was mild compared to some years, yet still so hard to watch.'

"You are alright, aren't you?" Lily murmured, her voice thick with emotion as she looked directly at her daughter, her emerald eyes filled with concern. "Like... surely Dumbledore wouldn't send you back to my sister's?"

The unspoken fear hung heavy in the air.

Caitria shook her head, offering a small, reassuring smile. "I was sent back there," she admitted quietly, "but don't worry, I got out pretty quickly."

Lily simply shook her head, her expression a mixture of sorrow and disbelief. She reached out and pulled Caitria into a tight embrace, whispering broken words of apology and fierce promises under her breath, stroking Caitria's fiery red hair with a trembling hand.

"I'm so sorry," she choked out, "Not this time... not again."

James, his own eyes still glistening, joined the impromptu family huddle, wrapping his arms around both his wife and daughter. Soon after, Fleamont and Euphemia enveloped Caitria in their warm embrace, their silent comfort a balm to years of longing. Caitria felt a lump forming in her throat. After so many years spent dreaming of such familial affection, it was finally happening. It wasn't quite the same as the fleeting, often chaotic, family hugs she received from Ron and the other Weasleys – minus Molly, the 'fake ass git' as her inner voice snidely reminded her – but it was a start.

It wasn't long before Sirius and Remus, unable to bear witnessing her distress without offering their own comfort, joined the embrace. The sheer number of people crammed together caused them all to lose their balance and topple over in a heap, a tangle of limbs and muffled laughter. Caitria let out a dramatic hiss, feigning outrage as she found herself buried beneath the weight of her newfound family.

"Get off!" She whined, her fingers twitching, sending off a series of harmless stinging hexes towards anyone who dared to chuckle at her misfortune.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity and at least a hundred playfully aimed hexes, she was free, dramatically gasping for air and verbally begging for oxygen.

Anyone familiar with the dramatic tendencies of the Potter family couldn't help but laugh, knowing that the only individuals capable of more theatrical displays were the Blacks. Orion and Sirius Black, for example, were notorious for their lengthy grooming rituals, spending what many considered an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom. It was a running joke that the father-son duo would likely marry their reflections if wizarding law permitted it.

Suddenly, a loud gasp cut through the remaining chuckles, followed by the drawn-out sound of dying, howling wolves echoing through the room. Caitria looked around in bewildered shock, surprised to see a general air of amusement amongst everyone, with the notable exceptions of a distinctly blushing Orion – a truly rare sight – and a stuttering, side-clutching Sirius, who was practically doubled over with offence. In utter confusion, she allowed herself to be pulled into a comforting side embrace by Regulus and Evan, who were still shaking with suppressed mirth.

"What?" She murmured, leaning against Regulus, her head turning towards Rabastan and Rodolphus and Bellatrix.

The latter two cheekily waved at her, their eyes sparkling with amusement, while Rabastan seemed to be struggling to regain his composure, his face flushed.

"You said that out loud," Bellatrix grinned wickedly, her dark eyes gleaming. "Apparently, Uncle doesn't appreciate it very much."

Caitria glanced back over to Orion and Sirius. Orion had regained his usual stoic expression, though a faint hint of pink still lingered on his cheeks, while Sirius was sporting a rather impressive pout. She simply shrugged, a mischievous glint in her own eyes.

"Sirius is half the reason my hexes are so strong," she declared, a hint of playful accusation in her voice. "I have personal experience at knowing how bloody long he takes, and Pops over there," she gestured towards Orion, "told me many a-occasion that his son is a chip off his old block."

Orion visibly stiffened, his neutral expression cracking slightly with offense. "Old?" He questioned, his voice laced with indignation.

Meanwhile, the other members of the Black family exchanged confused glances. They couldn't quite grasp why Caitria referred to Orion as 'Pops', but they certainly couldn't dispute her point about the males' excessive time spent in the bathroom.

Caitria's gaze then flickered towards Lucius Malfoy before returning to Bellatrix, who had clearly caught the direction of the redhead's attention and was now sporting a wide, maniacal grin.

"Mind you," Caitria snickered, her voice laced with amusement, "no one really has anything on Lucy over here. After all, bleaching all that hair must take hours."

That was the final straw. Bellatrix, Narcissa, Andromeda, and several others in the room, including a few of the more mischievous Slytherins, erupted into unrestrained fits of hysterics, the sound echoing through the stunned silence that had previously gripped the room.