Author: Gemma
Category: General, Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling. Characters and situations are used without permission,
no infringement is intended.
Summary: An 11-year-old girl by the name of Jaime Traspe accidentally discovers the old mirror of Rowena Ravenclaw, and brings her back in the form of a spirit. There's something fishy going on, and it's up to Jaime and her crew, Atalanta Mahalia and Jaques Flumogel to figure it out.
Author's Notes: Hallo! Back again. School's started, so it will take me quite a bit longer to spit out chapters. Sorry about the delay!! Hope you like this installment.
Dedication: To My Now Sort of Dead SotHH
* * *
Two small boys, one was about eight or nine, the other was a few years older, were playing tag in a tall field. They were laughing joyously, as those who did not yet know the horrors of the world did. When they were sufficiently exhausted, they flounced onto the ground to watch the clouds go by. A strong gust of wind shot by, taking bits of dust, grain, grass, and leafs with it. Together, they pointed out cloud shapes and giggled in their as yet unchanged voices. When the wind stopped suddenly, the older one sat straight up, and looked around. A green robed figure appeared in front of him.
"Hello, little one," the woman greeted.
"Hi," the boy replied shyly.
"Are you the one they call Nico?"
The boy shook his head, "No, that's him," he pointed to his brother.
The tall woman smiled at him, her dark blue eyes glittering. She had a long thin nose, and long, completely straight black hair that cascaded out of her green cloak. The child smiled at her, innocence written across his statement. She patted him on the head, and bent down to look at the younger boy in the eyes.
"Nico?" she inquired softly.
"That's me," he replied boldly.
"I've been looking for you."
"Why?"
"You're a special little boy. I want you to come with me, so we can talk about it."
The little one pondered for a few moments, staring into the clouds. The woman laid a hand on his shoulder. He nodded vigorously. Another smile crept across her face. "Wonderful." She took the boy's hand.
"Wait!" said the elder of the brothers. The other two turned around to look at him, his brother with anger, the woman with curiosity. "I want to come, too."
Nico looked scandalized, but the woman did some quick thinking, and decided that two were better than one, and allowed him to tag along.
* * *
The years passed quickly for "Nico Übeleins", as he came to be called by his fellow students, but passing quickly was not how "Ole' Snakeface" would have described his years at The Academy, which was properly named The Academy of Magickal Arts and Practices. Each day, they students went to four classes, ate three times a day, did homework, and slept. Occasionally, there would be a social get-together, but other then that, the schedule was routine. Nico Übeleins was properly named Nick Slimdon, and "Ole' Snakeface" was supposed to be called Sam Slimdon, but no one at The Academy did anything as they should. The woman who came to see them was the Headmistress of the school. Her name was Naomi Rembrent.
Nico was more sociable than his brother, who spent all his time with his three best friends, Rachel, Hannah, and Greg. The four of them were inseparable, and each had connections with certain animals. They learned how to speak to their animals, and were the most powerful witches and wizards in their class. Over time, their nicknames evolved until they metamorphosed into how we remember them today. Rachel's connections with birds, especially eagles and ravens earned her the nickname Rowena Ravenclaw. She was very proud of her name, and treated it like a title such as 'Duchess' or 'Lady'. Hannah turned into Helga Hufflepuff, so named for her fluffy, but fun, attitude. Greg was Godric Gryffindor, who could communicate with lions and griffins. He was probably the stupidest of the four, but his heart was in the right place. Sam became Salazar Slytherin due to his ability to chat with snakes. They were the oddballs, the weirdoes, and the nerds, but they were the best friends anyone could ask for.
By age sixteen, Salazar became particularly close with Rowena, and when Helga and Godric were off doing whatever pranksters do, their friendship blossomed into romance. Completely secret from everyone except the other two of their little group, but it was special none the less.
Late at night, Salazar and his brother attended a special class, just the two of them, to develop their own natural power of Seeing. The Headmistress herself taught them, focusing on Nico, but after realizing that Salazar had the skill, she began to show more interest in him. Slytherin later found out that she had made a prophecy at an early age that said:
"Two brothers shall clash
Both will fall
Betrayal and loyalty
Will separate the two
The smallest slim one
Will be the Seer
The largest slim one
Will be his downfall!"
Salazar and Nico both regarded the prophecy as baloney, as there was no way that they would turn against each other. It was an emotional impossibility. Perhaps it should be mentioned that at the time Rembrent took Salazar and Nico to The Academy, that he was the shorter of the two.
* * *
A twenty year old Salazar Slytherin emerged from the two-story cabin where he and his brother, Nico Übeleins were staying the summer. He took a deep breath of air, and lay down on the grassy hill watching the clouds roll by like he and his brother had when they were younger. He closed his eyes, but instead of the blackness of eyelids, there were dark browns and reds- the colors of dried blood, battle, and death. There were bodies strewn all over the ground, and only five people left standing. He and his three friends, Rowena, Helga, and Godric were standing their ground, bright auras of purple, yellow, and red, respectively, surrounding them. His brother was pushing past their circle of protection, his own silver aura pounding at it unmercifully. Salazar stared at his friends, and then at his brother, and broke the circle to begin walking towards his brother. As soon as he did so, Rowena was on the ground, completely still. She was dead. His green eyes flew open, and he looked around wildly.
"Nico!" he yelled.
A sleepy-eyed young man of eighteen appeared beside him. He was very tall, much taller than his brother. His eyes and hair were a dull brown, and he had a proudly arched nose. Fearnicov, with all his height was an imposing figure, and his brother flinched at his sudden appearance.
"What is it Salazar?" he yawned sleepily.
"I had a vision."
"Nothing new."
"This one is."
Salazar proceeded to recount his vision, and his younger brother's lips disappeared into a thin line.
"This is not good," he murmured, mostly to himself, "Not good at all. Thank you. I'm going to see Rowena. She'll know what to do."
He prepared to Disapparate, but his brother cried out, "Wait!" Nico glared at his brother fiercely. His brown eyes changed to an awkward silver color, and he demanded, "What?!"
"I wish to go."
"Fine. Get dressed and meet me out here in 5 minutes. Now."
Salazar scampered off like a kicked puppy dog, remembering the same conversation that had taken place when he was a boy and Naomi had taken them to The Academy. He threw on his black robes, tied his long black hair in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and splashing some water on his face. This all happened at practically the same time.
"Multitasking," Salazar muttered to himself, "You've got to love it."
He fastened his green cloak around his shoulders and strode out the door.
Übeleins looked at his pocket watch, "Getting better, Slyth. 3 minutes and 26 seconds! Not bad... considering we're going to go see your lovely girlfriend!"
Salazar whacked him on the arm, and Nico tapped him on the head with the wand. He blinked and shook his head, seeing little floating birdies in front of him.
"Wuss," Nico tried to provoke him.
"Let's get going."
* * *
They Disapparated, and appeared at a castle in Scotland. It was huge. And it was all Rowena's. She had inherited the castle from her recently deceased father, and was in the process of restoring it to some sort of magical splendor. She was dressed in plain white robes, her hair all over the place, and a slight smile inching its way across her features. Salazar smiled at her, showing all his teeth in their normal joking fashion. She grinned back at him, Nico watching this silent exchange with interest.
"Hey, you two. Godric and Helga are up in one of the rooms there," she waved vaguely at the entire mansion, gardening tool in hand.
"A little more specific perhaps?" Salazar asked innocently.
"Second door to the left when you walk in. It's a golden chamber."
He winked at her, and the brothers entered the large double doors. There was a faint smell of mildew, and Nico wrinkled his nose as the smell reached his nostrils. Salazar led the way to the golden hall, embracing Helga and Godric.
"My friends! It's been a long time since graduation."
Godric nodded regally, "Indeed it has," he half-bowed in greeting to Nico, "And you are Salazar's brother, Nico. I don't believe we have talked much. After 7 years, nonetheless. 'Tis a pity." Helga fluttered her eyelashes at the younger brother. The three men had to bite their lips to keep from bursting out into peals of hysterical laughter. The group made small talk until Rowena entered the room in a clean robe and wet hair pinned to the back of her head in a knot. Salazar and Godric visibly brightened, and both scooted over to make room for her. She sat between, them, and gulped some water from a wineglass.
"So what are you two idiots doing here?" she asked Salazar and Nico.
"I had a vision," the older brother said bluntly.
The relaxed look on Rowena's face evaporated, and her eyebrows drew together in a worried frown. She demanded to know what exactly happened in the vision. Everything from what they were wearing to what the weather looked like. She sat thinking for a few moments, oblivious to her surroundings, the worried looks on her three friend's faces, and a carefully innocent look on Nico's.
"It may or may not be the future. We shall not know until it comes whether it is valid or not, or whether it will really happen. Let us lay the subject to a rest, as we have some other matters to discuss. Nico, would you be so kind as to leave us for a short while? There are some private matters at hand."
Nico looked very offended, and left in a huff. Salazar tried to go after him, but Godric placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"What are you doing?" Salazar hissed.
"He is not loyal to you. Do not go after him."
"Besides," Rowena interjected with a smirk, "We have a better deal for you."
Salazar raised an eyebrow.
"We wish to start our own school of magic."
His eyes bulged out of his head, "Are you serious? Where?"
"Right here."
* * *
The bell rang for class to be over, and Professor Raghnall was jerked from her daydream-like state. The rest of the class was still entranced, waiting for her to continue.
"Right then," she murmured, partially to herself, "Erm, for homework, I want you to," she stopped and rubbed her temples, "Hell with it. No homework. See you on Friday." The professor stalked into her office and slammed the door.
Jaime and Atalanta shared a glance and sat on their desks, talking quietly while the rest of the class filed out.
"Hey Ravenclaw," came a cold voice from behind her. She spun around to face to wild-haired girl who had tried to break the door in earlier, Sandro Übelein standing beside her.
Jaime sneered, "What do you want?"
Sandro held up something shiny that was vaguely familiar, "Missing something?" he asked mockingly.
"How did you get that?!" she exclaimed loudly.
"Why not ask your "friend"? She's the one who stole it from your dorm and sent it to my... relative."
She noticed Atalanta open her mouth in disbelief, "Did you really?" she asked, not daring to believe it.
"No, of course not!"
"I'll deal with that later. Give it back," she said in a deadly voice. Sandro raised a contrary eyebrow, "Come and get it."
The temper that Jaime had been hiding under a dam of indifference broke through, and she fairly dived onto Sandro, and used every trick in the book to try and get him to release it. She almost had it when...
"What the HELL is going on here?"
Professor Raghnall had emerged from her office, and observing Jaime and Sandro fighting furiously. Jaime snatched the mirror from Sandro's hands, brushed herself off, and stood up straight. She opened her mouth to speak, when Josephine interrupted.
"Well, Necia," she enunciated the Professor's name with something near disgust, "Jaime here decided that she liked Sandro's mirror, and attacked him."
Jaime's jaw dropped, and an incredulous statement crossed her face, "That's a lie! And you know it!" she didn't want to say anything about Atalanta, for fear of it actually being true.
Necia looked from Sandro and Josephine to Atalanta and Jaime, and plucked the mirror from Jaime's tight grasp.
"I will keep this for now," she said firmly, and ushered all of them out, except for Jaime, "I have something that will help you," the Professor whispered to Jaime. She strode into her office and returned with a thick book in hand. In fancy print, the cover shouted, literally, "THE LIFE AND TIMES OF GREAT WITCHES: ROWENA RAVENCLAW by Ima Witchipod!" Professor Raghnall placed a Silencing Charm on it and handed it to her.
"I heard that Harrison assigned you an essay about your founder. This might help."
Jaime thanked her, a bit icily, and left the room.
Jaime! You brought me back!
Rowena?!
* * *
Jaques Flumogel stared at Professor McGonagall drowsily, pushing a strand of hair out of his face that had fallen out of his ponytail. The other fourth years were paying strict attention to her lecture about the importance of removing sharp pointy ends from cacti, roses, porcupines, and spindles.
"Mr. Flumogel!" she snapped.
"Yes, Professor?"
"How do you remove the sharp ends of an object after a faulty transfiguration?"
"Abra cadabra?"
The class chuckled.
"No. 10 points from Ravenclaw. If it wouldn't be too much to ask for, pay attention!" McGonagall said severely.
He rolled his eyes, and woke up a bit. His mind was on the girl he had met in Diagon Alley. Jaime. There had been something special about her then, and it was even more apparent now. She was the Keeper of the Mirror he had seen in his vision. He told her that his mother was the Seer, but that was false. It would do him no good if Übeleins was made aware of his talent. Tap. Tap. Tap.
He turned to his friend, Jackson, and whispered, "What?"
"We're supposed to work on transfiguring these."
'These' were beautiful black roses. He picked one up and smelled the delicate scent of the petals.
"Now is not the time to stop and smell the roses," Jackson joked.
Jaques grinned at him and went to work. It took him about seven minutes to transfigure the rose into a glass jar, and another eight minutes to remove the thorns from around the edge of the cap. By the time Professor McGonagall came to inspect his work, the glass of the jar was not green and the cap was not black. She scribbled a number on her paper, smiled slightly, and went on to the next table. Jaques relaxed, and looked at Jackson's opus. It was still the colors of the black rose, and smelled faintly of roses.
"How is it," Jackson said, "that you can completely slack off during the period and still end up transfiguring everything perfectly?"
"Because I'm Mary Poppins, that's why."
The hours dragged on, and his classes were as boring as ever. He wanted excitement and to be challenged. When he arrived in his History of Magic class, he expected neither. The good-natured Professor Harrison was sitting on his desk, flipping through a biography on Morgan Le Fay.
"She was an incestuous little wench, you know," said a voice on the wall. An Arthur Pendragon Choco-card hung near the door.
"Well, I'm sure you know about that first hand," Jaques quipped.
Arthur turned bright red, and brandished his finger at the impudent student. "You're a brave soul to take on the curmudgeonly King Arthur," said the professor. At this, the portrait of Arthur puffed his chest out in pride. Jaques grinned, and decided that this odd man would be an excellent teacher, and History of Magic would no longer be the designated napping period.
Anyone who had giant Choco-cards on the walls had to be cool.
He took a seat near the front of the room, and sat with his head on his hand. The professor hadn't said anything else, and was still rather engrossed in the biography.
Arthur then produced a sword that looked like Excalibur and was poking it at the Italian witch next to him, Aradia, who was none to pleased. She wrenched the sword out of his hand, and crumpled it as if it was plastic.
"Don't point that tin foil thing at me," she snapped.
Arthur looked mortally offended, "'Tis not tin foil! It is," he stopped, and drew himself and his crumpled sword up dramatically, "EXCALIBUR!" The final word was a roar, and both Jaques and Harrison jumped out of their seats.
Aradia had reached her tolerance for the long-dead king's antics. She plucked a metal nail file out of her seat and plunged it into his arm. Arthur hopped around screaming in a high pitched tone, "She's killed me! She's killed me!" By this time a crowd of students had gathered, and were watching delightedly.
"Aradia!" the poster of Diana the Huntress snapped, "It's not polite to plunge nail files into long dead kings' arms."
"But it's so much more fun than smacking him," Aradia whined.
Professor Harrison clapped twice, and motioned to the empty seats. The students filed over to the desks, and there was a rustling for paper and quills so perfunctory notes could be taken.
The professor set down his book begrudgingly, and casually faced the class.
"Arthur!" he called. The king was still nursing his wounded arm, and many smirks made their way across the faces of the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor faces. He looked over to the professor nonetheless, and jubilant to be called upon.
"Tell us about your reign as king." A misty eyed statement crossed Arthur's face, and he launched right in to details of the Round Table and fighting battles. Professor Harrison was listening right along with the students, who weren't taking notes, but being drawn into the subject that many considered dry and boring. Jaques was sure that Harrison felt misty-eyed himself- students were taking History of Magic seriously rather than considering it naptime. Arthur's voice rang across the room, everyone was hanging on to his every word. When the bell rang, the students were slow to leave. Many hung around to talk to the posters and the professor about the lesson. Their homework for the evening was to do some research about the Arthurian period of history and be prepared to give an oral report about it. Jaques left the classroom, worrying about his meeting later with Jaime. Atalanta was presenting a problem... he didn't know what to think about her. They may have been "friends", but Jaques knew her parents were dark wizards and may have influenced her. But if she was so influenced, wouldn't she be in Slytherin? He sighed. He'd have to test her somehow... little did he know that the opportunity would present itself so perfectly, it might have been planned.
* * *
Author's Note: Okay, I lied. The meeting won't be in this chapter because. Just because. It will be in the next one.. I hope. Remember: No one is omnipotent, and only I, the mighty and holy author hold all the keys. *grin* Soon, I promise. Soon.
Keep Writing and Reading,
Your personal plunger of the nail file,
Gemma
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