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By morning I wake refreshed, my before bed mediation and routine of sorting my memories having led me into a restful sleep. The super comfortable bed helps too, I cant even compare the scratchy lumpy orphanage bed to this majestic royal mattress.

I get out of bed, performing my morning rituals, before taking another hour to meditate. Focusing on my own body and mind. Having now had the feeling of a wand in my hand, the feeling of magic coursing through me to complete a connection for a spell. I feel that I am closer to managing the two wandless spells I have been trying so hard to make work. That last bit of missing information slotting in place.

How to channel my magic properly.

I take a deep breath, finishing my meditation. Opening my eyes. Concentrating on summoning my wand from the top of my pillow. Mentally willing and picturing it flying into my hand. I try to replicate the feeling of magic flowing through me for spellwork. "Accio!" I say, eyes tunneled in on my wand. My eyes narrow as I feel a slight pull. The wand twitches slightly, rolling my way by maybe an inch. I try to push it further, but I lose it. Letting out the breath I hadn't realized I had been holding.

I unfold my legs and stand up, walking over to my bed and picking up my wand. That has been much more than I have managed before. As pathetic as that was. I do not bother trying Revelio yet, I have a feeling it might be better to focus on one spell until I can control it. Once I am used to it, I can manage my second. Unfortunate that it's unlikely I'll be able to use both by September 1st, but I have hope and belief in myself managing Accio by then. I have a month. If I can make it twitch an inch today, I'll have it flying to my hand by the end of the month.

Believe it!

I grab my money pouch and head downstairs, my rent also pays for three square meals a day, so I won't need to spend extra on meals. Today perhaps, I'll see what I can find that's worth spending my limited funds on for knowledge.

As I step into the Leaky Cauldron's dining area, I notice how full it is, almost every seat is taken, a varied eclectic amount of people enjoying Tom's breakfast fare while reading the Daily Prophet or chatting away with their companions.

Several magical chess sets are out, regulars who meet at the Leaky Cauldron on a daily basis playing each other and enjoying breakfast together, this all according to Tom - when I had asked.

I hesitate by the booths, it seems I might have to wait for breakfast or find it elsewhere, the few empty seats I had thought I had spotted were not in fact fully empty. The booth was half full, I just hadn't seen them from a distance as they were not tall enough to reach over the top of the seating. I don't want to interrupt what I incredulously think is Professor Filius Flitwick and a student. One with pink hair. That can't be right? Nymphadora Tonks is a seventh year this year, so she shouldn't be so…Tiny. And also she's a Hufflepuff. What is she doing with the head of Ravenclaw?

I am noticed in my perusal, the small professor giving me a small smile, "Looking for a seat? You can join us, we haven't ordered yet, and the more the merrier!"

His voice wasn't as squeaky as I imagined, it definitely was of a higher pitch then normal, but hardly noticeable. He looked like his film self - second actor, to clarify - and I gave him a thankful nod. Giving the pouting Nymphadora a searching look, before sliding into the booth. "Thank you for the offer, I had not expected it to be so busy."

Before Flitwick can answer, Tom bustles over, an apologetic grin on his face. "Sorry, Professor Flitwick, it's a madhouse in 'ere today, the usual?"

"Not to worry, Tom! A little wait never hurt anyone, and I'll just have a cuppa today, I shan't be around overly long I'm afraid." Flitwick answers politely.

Tom nods along, and scribbles the order down in a notebook. I stare fascinated as I can see a pot of tea and tea cups and condiments and everything, come dancing out of the kitchen, flying through the air above the heads of all the customers after he writes the order down.

I completely miss Tonks's order as I stare at the menagerie of tea and biscuits depositing themselves on the table in front of Professor Flitwick. How on earth is he late on serving anything if by writing down the order it is magically made right then and there and delivered without him. A connection between the notebook and whatever magic runs his kitchen? It's enchanted then? Or is it more complicated, does he have house elves? Or does he cook solely by magic? Could you set something so complicated? Like a magic programming language, like an AI that figures out how to cook and serve several dishes. Or am I overthinking it?

"I think this one 'ere gonna be one of yers, Professor." Tom says with a toothless grin. "Everytime the lad spots something, he goes like that, trying to figure it out, he is."

"Nerd." Tonks coughs, looking completely innocent as I come out of my speculations to throw her a dirty look, Flitwick giving her a chiding look as well. The girl is not surprisingly, completely undaunted.

"You should order, before you get lost in the mysteries of the universe again baby raven." She grins at me. I notice she has dimples in her cheeks when she smiles. It's cute.

"A traditional English please, Tom." I order, a bit disappointed to see that the actual meals take longer and aren't doing a conga line to our booth yet. As Tom jots the order down and runs off to serve someone else, I turn to my table mates. "I'm sorry, I've been impolite, my name is Lucas Greenwood." I introduce myself.

Flitwick smiles kindly at me, "A pleasure to meet you Mister Greenwood. My name is Filius Flitwick, I am, as you might have surmised, a professor at Hogwarts."

"The best one too, without a doubt." Tonks says cheerfully. "You'll be lucky to have him as your head, little ickle claw."

"You'll make me blush, Miss Tonks." Flitwick chuckles. "Perhaps you should introduce yourself, instead of finding new ways to infer youth with different iterations of Ravenclaw."

She huffs, puffing her cheeks out, it honestly looks so adorable on eleven year old Tonks. "Alright firstie, my name's Tonks just Tonks, got it?" She glares at me briefly. "Seventh year Hufflepuff." She glares at me more intently.

She does realize as a muggleborn student not yet sorted I don't have quite the same prejudice against Hufflepuffs? Well normally it would be that way anyway.

"Is it usual for people my age to be in their seventh year?" I ask, acting confused. I realize of course that for whatever reason she's used her metamorph powers to appear younger, but it's also impossible for me to know that so I can't ask about it.

Tonks briefly focuses, body growing, face maturing, hair lengthening and, wow. She can fill out a robe. I stare in amazement. Tonks slowly shrinking back down again with a smug grin.

"I love magic!" I breathe out.

Tonks blushes slightly, "That is honestly too adorable. Professor, when did firsties become so cute?"

Flitwick chuckles, "When you grow older Miss Tonks, you'll find that not much beats the innocence or fascination of a child."

I blush slightly, ducking my head. "I'm sorry, this is all new to me and I don't mean to just blurt out things."

Tonks looks at me and sighs, "Professor, I'm literally melting here, do something about the cuteness!"

"I'm not cute." I mutter, as I stick my lower lip out. Having fun acting the shy new muggleborn. I almost giggle as Tonks throws her hands out my way as if to say see! Cute!

"You have nothing to apologize for, being new to magic is an amazing experience that you should treasure." Professor Flitwick says firmly.

Our food arrives and puts a stopper in the conversation, Professor Flitwick drinking his tea as myself and Tonks ravenously attack some traditional English breakfast foods. The fare compared to the orphanage… It's like having been fed cardboard all your life and suddenly eating five star restaurant food. Magic makes everything better?

I admit my table manners might have somewhat slipped in my new discovery of how not gray and bland food was. I was not kidding about the cardboard quality of fare in the orphanage.

"You eat like you've been starved." Tonks shakes her head, "Or like a Gryffindor." She eyes me skeptically, "Will I lose a hand if I try and grab the gravy?"

I slow down, averting my eyes, "I'm sorry, I've just never had food so…" I search for words and come up short. The difference is like night and day, no not even that describes the magnitude of difference. "The orphanage doesn't have a lot of funding, so food…." I trail off again.

Professor Flitwick looks sympathetic, and not surprised. While Tonks grimaces, giving me an apologetic look, "I sure put my foot in my mouth, huh? Sorry baby claw, I didn't know."

I shrug, I realize I better move this conversation away before Tom can hear, as he is under the impression my parents know I'm staying here for the month. "Not your fault. Besides, I have magic now, so it's all better." I eye her with a critical gaze, "Why are you pretending to be my age anyway?" I change the subject.

"Had to meet with the Professor about something career related for this year." Tonks says with an easygoing smile, relief at the subject change obvious on her face. "Some people make trouble if a seventh year girl meets up with their professor outside of school." She finishes delicately.

"I will reiterate that I believe this is unnecessary and that no one will impugn my honor either way, Miss Tonks." Professor Flitwick says mildly, hands laced together.

I tilt my head questioningly, "Didn't you make that charade pointless anyway when you changed earlier to show me?"

Tonks grimaces, rubbing the back of her head, "I didn't think of that, I just did it. But you're right, I suppose." She morphs back into her correct age, the robes must be more than usually magical to be able to shrink and expand to fit the different bodies of an eleven year old and seventeen year old girl. I stare at her robes in thought.

Tonks pulls a hand through her pink spiky locks, smirking down at me, "You know, usually they're a bit older before they start staring at my knockers like that!"

Professor Flitwick chokes and sputters on his tea, "Miss Tonks!" He says reprovingly. Cleaning up the mess with a swish of his wand.

"I was wondering about what difference there was in the enchantments on your robe compared to a normal one to allow for the varied body differences transforming between a prepubescent girl and a young woman!" I protest, ears red.

Tonks eyes me skeptically, then after a moment appears to believe me to be genuine and lets out a tinkling laugh. "Oh, this one's definitely a claw! I can actually believe him!"

"As the head of Ravenclaw I would absolutely welcome you, young Mister Greenwood." Professor Flitwick says with an amused tilt to his voice. "Don't let Miss Tonks settle you on that path; however, you still could do well in any house."

"Please! If he's anything but a claw I'll eat my knickers!" Tonks laughs, her pink hair briefly changing into purple before morphing back.

I wonder if that's a tell on the mental control aspect of her powers, she thought of her knickers, then her hair turned purple, is she wearing purple ones. I wish I could ask without coming off as completely creepy. I think, knowing that the excuse of; I'm just wondering how the magic works - wouldn't fly with this question.

"Miss Tonks, I'm suddenly reminded of how many detentions you serve yearly, do not make me give my first ever summer vacation detention." Professor Flitwick says firmly.

I hide an amused little smile. Apparently knockers are fine but knickers is where the professor draws the line, I think, swallowing a chuckle.

"I made the firstie smile, so pretty please no detention, mom would kill me!" Tonks says pleadingly, putting her hands together in a prayer.

If I'm not mistaken she's morphed her eyes to be bigger and shinier and her face has definitely taken on a younger innocent look. This girl was definitely a pro at getting out of trouble. And Flitwick quickly folds, warning her about her language.

I finish my breakfast soon after, the rest of the meal being simple small talk, I politely excuse myself from the table as soon as I'm done. Knowing they have something to discuss that I have interrupted. Tonks promises to see me as a baby claw in September. I give her a small wave and the professor a nod of respect, before I take my leave. Heading for the portal to Diagon Alley. For the first time I am able to tap my wand and open the brick passageway. The quintessential wizarding experience.

I wonder what the odds are of running into Severus Snape, Horace Slughorn and Filius Flitwick within a 48 hour period. Even in the small magical community that can't have been high odds.

Again as I walk down the street I am drawn to the watch store and toy store, but regretfully pass them by in the end. I will not be getting any more scholarships or money from academic competitions in the muggle world. So my funds are limited, and better spent on necessities rather than wants. Even when it comes to books I'll be buying them rather sparsely, I have Hogwarts library to look forward to after all. I just need some magical theory books to study, to evaluate if I'm going about things properly.

Flourish and Blotts is as busy as expected this rush up until September, I can barely move through the throngs of families, easily spotting those few uncomfortable muggle raised and their families gawking at everything. I certainly hope that is not how I had looked like on my first visit to the Alley just two days ago. It really does give off somewhat of a hillbilly visit to the city for the first time vibe.

Luckily for my own comfort about personal space, the magical theory section is by far the most sparsely populated section in Flourish and Blotts. Unluckily it does not offer a great selection. Mostly dealing with each year of Hogwarts and the theory compatible with a students year level. It seems magical theory is not a popular subject, could explain why so many wizards and witches were so… dull. I mean, if you like clothes, then sure make a career of magically altering clothes, I guess. But what about people like Stan Shunpike, conductor of a bus, that's what magic can do for him? Even with the absolute basics of a seven year education any wizard should be able to build themselves a nice cottage, with a garden to see to their needs, and then live fairly comfortably. Perfect for continuous study without the hassle of a menial job. Yet people shy away from learning more magic, and instead seek out the menial jobs, for some small amount of money. When they have magic!

I shake my head still not able to understand the reasoning of the majority of the population eschewing improving their magic. With a lack for a better option and not wanting to waste the money to buy another six years worth of books, I pick up the fifth and seventh year magical theory books. They'd likely hold the most important chapters out of all seven years of theory anyway. As I make my way past the throng, all trying to squeeze into the aisles for the defense section, I pass by a bargain bin. I stop and look, and almost continue walking. It's filled to the brim with divination books. All basically being sold for knuts and still they're not selling.

I'm stopped in place by a stray thought, I know prophecies are an actual real thing. I shouldn't let prejudice from my own reading of a fraud of a teacher prevent me from investigating a whole field of magic. Just because Trelawney was a horrible teacher, did not mean the whole subject was garbage. I have some faith in the magical world, they wouldn't still be studying it if there wasn't some worth to it.

I rummage around in the bargain bin, discarding book after book after finding they're the same useless dross that focus on being a seer, which is pointless to 99.9 percent of the population. Finally at the bottom I find something that might actually be useful.

A History of Divination and its Usage by Cassiopeia Black

Unless she was one of the batshit nuts Blacks, it was unlikely the book would be useless dribble like the rest. A quick peek at the chapter titles confirm that the book seems to actually discuss solid uses for divination. I add it to my sad pile of purchases. I must resist temptation. I have a whole library to access for most of the year. It would be pointless to purchase more books. My gaze slides across another aisle, stopping on a heavy, leather bound tome.

A Comprehensive History of Magic in the British Isles and Beyond by Batilda Bagshot.

The book is expensive. A quick look confirms the book somehow holds over 20 000 pages inside. This was the real history of magic. Not just goblin rebellions. My fingers twitch. I really shouldn't. They might have a copy at Hogwarts. I absolutely should not….

As they ring up my purchases I wince as my Divination and Magical Theory books go for literal knuts in the first case and 3 galleons each for the second. While my guilty pleasure purchase rings up for 40 galleons. To be fair I'm surprised it isn't much, much more, so I can't really complain.

I march back to my room at the Leaky Cauldron. Avoiding any chance of any other spur of the moment purchases. It has nothing to do with the 20 000 page book I'm dying to read.

Who am I kidding? I was the kind of nerd that would play a game like World Of Warcraft and spend all my time on the history and lore, reading all supplementary books and barely bothered with the whole fighting thing. I would devour this book. Even if it would take me probably months or all year to finish due to all the other studying I still have to do, and will need to do once I arrive at Hogwarts.

Well. Best get started then.

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The first few chapters of the History of Magic book are absolutely fascinating. Detailing the Druidism that came to being in Britain and the ritualistic magic they practiced. How they were so entwined with nature that some Druids literally turned into trees instead of passing away normally. How some still existed today, preserved in magical nature sanctuaries, protected from muggle logging efforts.

Batilda Bagshot is a very dry and factual writer, I can understand why Hogwarts students did not particularly enjoy the subject. To someone like me who just wanted to know. Her no nonsense factual take to writing was perfect. She describes the early days of magic, touching on the facts they knew first, then what they could reasonably suggest based on conversations with ghosts from the time and other evidence dug up centuries later. The fact that historians could actually speak to someone from a time period so far back was absolutely fascinating. It's a bit sad to imagine someone fearing death to the extent they lingered on for a Millennium or two.

As Batilda does not deal in pure speculation, something she mentions several times in the first chapters alone. There is nothing on how magic came to be. Batilda only mentions it as one of the great mysteries we'll likely never know.

So life goal right there. Discover the root of magic.

Eventually I have to put the book aside, it had given me much to think about and I decide to crack open the divination text for a brief respite from my swirling thoughts.

Cassiopeia Black has a dry wit as a writer and several times sarcastically points out how the topics she is writing about would not work for those too dimwitted to understand the basics of magic. Although she does not point out what she means, I have a feeling she's talking about willpower, intent and belief.

Several times in the introduction to her text she mentions how Divination is an art that can not be performed by those with hesitation. She's definitely not like Batilda. Who lays out the facts simply as that. Cassiopeia teases the answer, and you have to understand the meaning behind her words to truly understand the subject she's speaking of. No wonder her book ended up in the bargain bin. Not because of a lack of quality. She's honestly a superb writer, and the book is fantastic on explaining Divination and how I could use it. The average wizard and witch from just what I've read in the Harry Potter books - are just way too simple to catch her real meaning.

And really. Trelawney was an absolute moron. There were dozens of ways to utilize divination that she could have taught in her class. Then again perhaps they were on NEWTs level. If OWLs only covered palm reading and crystal balls then that's what Trelawney taught. She could have still moved beyond that and gotten some real adherents to her subject. Well, she'd still managed to enthrall those silly girls hadn't she? Parvati and Lavender, that's the names. Thank the Lord, or Merlin now -I guess I have to get used to that. Anyway, thank Merlin I am unlikely to be a Gryffindor. I always hated those kind of gossipy flighty girls.

Back to the subject of Divination. I have only read a few chapters and already I have started to practice real divination. Sure, it was for everyday things, not a see the future manual. Yet, how useful could even a small divination each morning be to prepare you for the day.

Cubomancy, divination with dice. A practice that has been in place for over two thousand years, the ancient Wizards using things like knuckle bones. Until harvesting of magical creatures became safer and commercialized. Now bone dice made from an assortment of magical creatures were used in Cubomancy.

The dice have several numbers on each side, each representing letters of the alphabet, so you'd ask your question, or divination, and roll the dice. Then interpret what the numbers meant in letters, then again have to interpret what the letters would combine into depending on things like the cycle of the moon, what month you were in, and whether you were a wizard or witch. Because all those would give different meanings to the letters.

I hadn't been able to help myself, finding a small tucked away divination vendor not too far away from the magical menagerie that sold bone dice. I did not think of where most of their supply came from, I definitely avoided any trinkets made of owl bone. My own dice were made of Mooncalf bones, they were a shimmering ethereal silver color with tiny black numbers and came in a royal purple pouch I could tie to my belt.

It had sounded like a lot of work when I'd read it, but honestly figuring out what moon phase I am in, what month it was and whether or not I am a wizard is not exactly hard work. If I make it a daily routine it would hardly take more than a few minutes. It was a bit more involved then just that. Still, not a difficult endeavor.

Following Cassiopeia's instructions, I focus and throw the dice, mentally asking my question. It was not hard for me to believe in the process. This was magic, like I had always imagined it. And I focused my will on receiving an answer. My question is simple. Should I go down to the Leaky Cauldron common area tonight?

I would have to study Latin at Hogwarts as the numbers were only associated with the Latin language. Yet studying my dice, and with my limited understanding of Latin, my answer appeared to be some variation of Do not.

Of course, the best way to find out why, was to actually go down anyway.

That night a pub fight broke out and I had to be healed by Tom with a quick Episkey, having received a broken nose from a banished beer tankard to the face while trying to avoid the brawl.

Divination works. I love magic!

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Studying more about divination over the rest of the week continues to show me that it was an actual useful field of magic that Hogwarts was teaching incredibly improperly.

Take Tarot card readings for example. The general popular belief was that you were reading the future when you used them for divination. That was completely incorrect.

Tarot cards were indeed capable of magic, if you got real cards, magically made and treated. But they did not predict the future. They read you! Tarot cards were used for an increased self awareness and to reflect on yourself. The readings are based on you and the forces around you as you are now. Not the future. It's a guideline to your own soul, your mind, your feelings and actions. Unfettered and absolutely truthful, no blinders. It was magic you used to get an honest opinion on how you are doing, without the personal blinders and assumptions people make about themselves in their own insecurities or hubris.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I already had the dice for cubomancy, so I forced myself to not go visit the vendor for a deck of Tarot cards. It could wait. I was already pretty self aware.

Tasseomancy was used almost exclusively in the Harry Potter books, the art of reading tea leaves. Yet Trelawney never did explain all the ways to properly utilize it. For one the absolute barebones way to attempt it was to simply drink your tea and then try and interpret the dregs. Pretty useless for a class of students with no knowledge of divination and not yet practiced in their belief. If anything they come into the class with disbelief. Further making the class pointless.

In Tasseomancy everything makes a difference. What kind of material your cup is made of, what time of the day you're drinking. Is it dawn? Noon? Evening? It all changes how you use it and read it. What kind of tea is it? How long did you spend drinking it? Are you swirling it clockwise or anticlockwise? Tasseomancy is the most complicated and difficult to get right practice of divination. And that's what Trelawney focused on.

Then once you have managed all the fiddly bits, you now have to interpret the dregs, which means that before you did all that, you'd have to learn how to interpret them. Something again that Trelawney apparently didn't teach properly.

While Tasseomancy, once mastered, was absolutely spot on in predicting your immediate future, it was one act of divination I would not practice. It was just an enormous hassle. Way too much work.

Cubomancy and Tarot cards would have to do. And I felt there was promise in scrying, using a crystal ball and pendulum divination. Yet I was mindful of not picking too many things to focus on, especially in a subject that I honestly probably would not use much. It was a temporary pleasure and diversion into a field I had a prejudice against and wanted to explore, because it was still magic. Yet further exploration was probably best for when I had a solid grounding in the wand arts. Besides, from what Cassiopeia wrote, the highest levels of scrying and pendulum divination required blood, something which wasn't quite legal in most cases, although it had never been banned in divination. Probably because literally no one uses it anymore.

Also, Cassiopeia was a Black, if they were still using those blood based divinations, of course they put pressure on to keep it legal. Until Voldemort happened and the family basically imploded, the Blacks were the kind of people that said jump, and the Ministry of Magic was a thousand feet in the air before they thought to ask, why?

I put the divination book on my nightstand. My fingers rolling my Mooncalf bone dice between them. What an interesting subject it was, divination. Too bad I'd get zero use out of the class at Hogwarts. I couldn't even ask questions of the professor in the subject due to her incompetence. I frown minutely, the same goes for another favorite of mine, History of Magic. Binns probably wouldn't even realize he was in this decade, let alone get my name right. So asking questions would hardly get a coherent educational answer.

I was used to normal education where most teachers actually wanted to teach. Hogwarts did have that fantastic library and I am an adult and capable of self study. It does burn me slightly however. To have Snape who either hates kids, teaching, or both. Binns who probably wouldn't notice if his entire class had an orgy, something to plan for seventh, make that eight year? Perhaps?

Then there's Trelawney who somehow manages to teach Divination the most asinine ineffectual way possible. And eventually Hagrid, who while nice and a font of knowledge on Magical beasts is not a competent teacher and definitely should not be responsible for student safety around beasts capable of killing students. The man's last completed grade was as a second year!

If I was actually paying tuition I'd demand my money back. I think wryly, sliding my feet off my bed and standing up, stretching slightly, hearing the pops of a body that has perhaps spent too long curled up with a book this morning.

I've been in Diagon Alley for a week so far. Having already burned through my first year textbooks. They honestly were not complicated, although the potions book really should come with a supplementary book on ingredient reactions, because the information in the text book did not clarify enough. No wonder first year students were dunderheads. I certainly never saw Snape explain it to Harry's class.

I roll the dice in my hand, pondering my question. Should I explore Knockturn Alley or not? I could already cast several spells like Flipendo, the knockback jinx and Expelliarmus, which wasn't in my first year book, but a Harry Potter nerd could hardly forget his favorite spell. It should be safe to explore in daylight, surely. I didn't believe for a second that it was a dark magic district full of evil. No government would allow that. Sure it definitely had shops dealing in shady shit, like Borgins Burke's, who sold dark magic books and artifacts illegally. Yet more than likely, the district was the kind for more esoteric and specialty shops that could not afford the rent in Diagon Alley due to having a more diverse clientele.

It was those esoteric shops I was curious about exploring. Even if I didn't buy anything, I wanted to know for future exploration. I focus my mind on the question, is it safe for me to explore Knockturn Alley today?

I roll the dice, then take a minute to read the results and translate. Bonus Fortuna. Well that's easy enough. Good fortune. It seems I am indeed exploring today. I pick my dice up and put them away in my pouch, then I slide it inside my mokeskin pouch for safe keeping together with my money. Slide my wand so that I am holding it hidden under my wrist and the length of my robe, and I walk downstairs to exit into Diagon Alley, and ahead, towards Knockturn.

No one tries to stop me or even give me a second glance as I march down into Knockturn Alley. And to be honest in the beginning stretch there isn't much of a difference. Less shouty colors perhaps. A narrower street makes it seem more cramped. Not as many tall buildings so not as many bridges or trees around to light things up. I don't bother with the shops in this first bit, the much narrower street filled with shops that don't appear that different from Diagon Alley.

The further down the alley I go, the more it leans into its reputation. A building to my right seems built entirely out of dark ominous smoke, the surface of it swirling as it's constantly moving in the wind. I peer closely at it, ignoring a hag vendor nearby selling nails and bits and bobs of bones. It's a cigar and pipe store, Bletchley's cigars and pipes to be exact. I walk on amused and pleased at the effort to create such a striking and interesting store front for such a normal kind of store.

Curious suddenly of why anyone would sell them, I walk up to the hag I had previously ignored. "What's the fingernails for?"

She gives me a yellowed grin, "Polyjuice potion, fingernails works just as well as hair, and you ain't about to lose em easy like."

"Huh, you learn something new everyday. I assume it's from random muggles?" I ask, getting an agreeing nod. I give the friendly hag a wave as I continue walking. That hadn't been too bad.

I walk by an optometrist store, or whatever a wizard equivalent would be called. Two apothecaries who amusedly are right next to each other, both with signage with disparaging language about their obviously defective competitor next door - Both stores have the same last name, Inheritance dispute? I walk by a veterinary clinic for your magical pets and beasts, slightly surprised this isn't a shop in Diagon Alley. And a candy shop shaped like a gingerbread house, seemingly taken right out of a story. All this makes it seem like Diagon Alley is for the Hogwarts bound and the upper class, while Knockturn has the nitty gritty businesses everyone uses. While still making sense of the don't send your kids down here idea; as I walk by an obvious brothel - placed next to a bar/inn on one side and a used book store of all things on the other side.

I forcibly make myself keep exploring. If I go into a used book store I will no doubt stay too long and spend money I shouldn't be spending. The alley was not lit well, it was dirtier but not by much, more of a rugged type of working class street rather than obviously criminal. So far I had not been accosted at all. Although I've spotted a hag or two. I'd wager it would be much more dangerous at night. Yet that's why I was exploring this early in the day. I wouldn't be coming down at night anytime soon, if ever.

Although just like muggle nightlife, I bet certain areas of the Alley would be an absolute experience at night.

I soon find a store that piques my interest, it's shaped like a giant old boot, because of course it is. The signage declares it McGonagall's Knicks and Knacks. Below it in bolded and underscored text is.

Not to be confused with professor Minerva McGonagall, no relation!

I wonder bemusedly if the proprietor got a visit from the old transfiguration professor about people believing she owned a knick knacks store. To be a fly on the wall for that discussion, it's an amusing thought. I enter, a bell jingling above me. The store is filled from floor to ceiling with just stuff. There's barely a pathway through, and most of it is defying gravity. Sticking charm? Or something more robust?

I walk around, perusing the stacks for anything that looks interesting, wondering if this store would be my good fortune today. Or just my entire experience in Knockturn Alley going well, without problems, could be viewed as good fortune. Divination was useful. But it wasn't terribly precise.

The proprietor is completely ignoring me, dozing away in a comfortable looking leather lazy boy chair. I almost let out a chuckle at its obvious muggle origin. I think I can still see a price tag on the side. I look around, figuring that even if I can't tell, there's all kinds of anti theft spells to explain the proprietor's lack of care. In this mess it was too easy to take something to not have it be well protected.

I spot a shelf filled with nothing but wands. I walk over with interest, having a second wand is only common sense. Unfortunately the Ministry does not allow Hogwarts students to purchase more than one wand, or I would have gone to Ollivander's to find another good match for a second wand.

From what research I've managed to do on wands, which honestly comes by asking around in the Leaky Cauldron and reading the provided free pamphlet on most common wizarding laws broken by students, given to me by a grinning Tom. Apparently the ministry gave him stacks of the things at this time of the year. I did note with exasperation that while it was illegal to purchase a second wand as a student. It was not illegal to own one. No doubt a loophole for the pureblood wanting to use grand daddy's wand as backup.

Unfortunately none of the wands in the stacks and stacks of them feels very receptive to me. There's no point in a back up wand that is not at least halfway willing to work with me. I move on from that endeavor slightly put out.

I find several things that look somewhat interesting but not for me. Including what honestly looks like a beginner's ritual kit marketed for kids. I take its placement in this little shop to mean it wasn't a very successful marketing campaign. Too many toddlers sacrificing the family house cat perhaps. Wizards! I think, shaking my head. Although I am surprised it's even here. The ministry tightly regulates rituals apparently. Considering what Voldemort came out looking like after one. I don't think I can rightly disagree with them. Banning it completely would be a mistake in my opinion - just based on the history of ritualism and its druidic roots. However, let researchers and Professors study, or whatever the department of mysteries does. Just keep it out of the hands of the morons of the wizarding world.

I spot a flash of silver, I have to bend down to look in the middle of a trash heap worth of useless items. But I see a small cage. The word Animagus is still visible even though all other lettering has faded with age. The cage is hardly big enough for even a cat. My mind starts to whirl… It is however big enough for a rat. I reach into the pile, carefully extracting the cage. Studying it closely, I'm pretty darn sure this is actual fucking goblin silver. No way does the owner know what this is.

I bring it over to the counter. The small old man that was dozing there, gingerly getting up, grumbling all the while, and putting on glasses so thick it's a wonder he doesn't tip forward.

"That is a real Animagus cage that is. 15 galleons." He says with a car salesman's smile. The wrinkles on his face make him look like a very unattractive bulldog when he smiles.

I scoff, unimpressed. "It's the size to maybe hold a grasshopper Animagus, not very useful. 3 galleons." I counter. Although in the worst case I'll pay the full amount. It's worth probably fifty times his price just for being goblin silver.

"Alright, it's a bit on the small side, innit? But it's the real deal, will keep any small Animagus locked away, no way to transform, easy to transport at that size too eh?" The old man scratches his chin, eyeing me, sizing me up. "10 galleons, and it's me final offer."

I purse my lips, pretending to think about it. I doubt I can haggle him down too much more. And I don't want him to start paying too close attention to the cage. "Alright. Ten galleons." I sigh, and make a put upon face.

I count out ten galleons from my mokeskin pouch, the proprietor eagerly grabbing the money, looking like he's just had one over me. Oh if only he knew. I slide the small cage into my pouch feeling a pang of gratitude to Slughorn. He's really made life easier for me with his gift.

I exit the store, feeling in a grand mood. Good fortune indeed. I have no intention of saving the plot or some such nonsense. But there were other reasons why having a little rat captive could be very useful.

"Wotcher, Ickle baby claw, what are you doing down here?" I hear, and I swivel my head to find Nymphadora Tonks striding up to me.

"Having a look around, Tonks? Was it? What are you doing here?" I explain and then fire back cheekily.

She comes up to me fully, rolling her eyes at my cheek. "I'm fully capable of defending myself, you couldn't scare away a house elf." Her eyes slid to the brothel nearby, "Let's go, I'll escort you out."

A group of young adult wizards come stumbling out of the brothel. It's fairly obvious they've spent the night, I've seen their kind before, young and dumb, with money.

"Merlin! Wait until I tell Ophelia you were at a brothel, Fawley!" Tonks hisses quietly to herself in malicious satisfaction. The group not noticing Tonks and myself.

"What's a brothel?" I ask with big eyes. Inwardly cackling. I can't wait to tell her head of house all about the brothel Tonks took me to in the summer. Not quite factually correct. But she did take me right by it. No matter that I was already there. Now how public should that be…

Tonks does a double take, looking away from the students as if she's forgotten about me in the 30 seconds after she decided she'd escort me. "Never mind about that. And don't you dare ask a professor!" She tells me a pink tint to her cheeks. She gives me a little gentle shove. "Move it, baby claw."

"I won't ask." I say politely with a cherubic smile.

"I know that fake innocent look, you little shit." She growls at me, she marches me up towards Diagon Alley, "What's it gonna take to keep your trap shut?"

"Lunch, somewhere other than the Leaky Cauldron." I decide to be magnanimous and give her an easy out, plus I want to try some more excellent food, without impacting my money pouch.

"Fine, you can come with me to lunch with my parents." Tonks says, and I am having second thoughts, because what?

She chuckles, "It's perfect!" She cheers, her hair sparkling suddenly, "They won't nag at me if I bring a sacrif- I mean guest!" She leers at me somewhat threateningly.

"We can have lunch another day!" I say hurriedly as we enter Diagon Alley. I don't need anymore encounters with people liable to want to know where my guardians are, or how I'm staying in Diagon Alley instead of the Orphanage.

Tonks grabs my shoulder and steers me purposefully forward. "Nah, ickle baby claw. You're stuck with me now, a deal is a deal."

"You are a cruel and evil mistress of magic." I quip, not looking forward to the twenty questions game over lunch. Hopefully the food would be good.

"Aww, you already know me so well." She coos. Turning me right, we're two alleys behind Flourish and Botts now, heading towards a restaurant that seems to be a hollowed out giant tree trunk, laying on its side. The seats appear to be flower buds and the tables are blooming flowers, petals spread, amazing colors on display. The smell is just divine and I'm not talking about the food. The whole feel of the place is natural, and the smell is like being out in flower meadow on a nice summer's day.

The sign above the restaurant proclaim it Amare Naturae, Latin, but not anything I can fully translate off the top of my head, except something about nature obviously.

Shining flower buds in the ceiling and on the walls provide light, the sound of running water adds to the ambiance, as there are little waterfalls coming out of the walls everywhere. The restaurant only has room for ten tables. Not surprisingly they are all occupied. Tonks takes the lead now, grabbing my hand to drag me towards a table in the middle of the restaurant. "Mom, Dad, I hope it's okay that I brought someone."

Ted Tonks is a fair haired man with a definite dad bod. He has an open and honest face, the kind of man you'd trust on a first meeting. Andromeda Tonks is his complete opposite in every way. A classical beauty with well managed light brown hair, soft eyes in an otherwise aristocratic face.

"Dora! I never expected that when you'd bring a boyfriend to a meal it would be one so young." Ted Tonks says teasingly. "Of course he's welcome, best to train them young, eh darling?" He ribs his daughter.

"Dad! He's not my boyfriend!" Tonks face flushes, and her hair briefly flashes red before she regains control. "Mom, make him stop!" She whines.

I interject putting on a dejected look, "You're already breaking up with me?" I say pathetically, looking up at Tonks sadly.

Tonks gapes, staring down at me as her father breaks out laughing and her mother hides a smile behind her hand. "You're so dead when we get to Hogwarts!" She promises darkly.

"Nymphadora, no death threats at the table!" Andromeda says sharply. Turning kind eyes to me, "You're of course welcome, dear. Don't let my daughter's brazen mannerisms put you off."

"Thank you, ma'am." I say with a smile, turning mischievous eyes on Tonks, who's glaring at me with a don't you dare look. I'm glad I have in universe knowledge of her first name now.

"I'm so glad Nymphadora brought me, Nymphadora owes me lunch you see, and I'm honored to join a luncheon with Nymphadora's parents." I say sweetly, taking my seat on one of the flower buds at the table.

Dead! Tonks mouths to me, eyes sparking, as she takes the seat next to her chuckling dad, right across from me.

"It's unusual for you to bring someone Dora, but I'm glad you did. Where did you find this lad, he's got your number alright." Ted says with a wide smile, teasing his daughter.

"Should have left you at the brothel." Tonks mutters, shooting me a dark look. I give her a deadpan one back. Her supposed clumsiness must be in regards to her mouth as well. She doesn't even seem to realize what she's said until her mom gasps. Tonks eyes flying wide open as she tries to think of a defense.

"Nymphadora what on earth were you doing at a brothel!" Andromeda hisses quietly. "Ted, don't laugh, this is serious!"

"Dromeda, she's an adult now, if Dora needs companion-" Ted starts, still sniggering.

Tonks interrupts him, "Merlin dad! No!" Looking disgusted. "I do not need to pay to get laid!"

"There is a child at the table!" Andromeda snaps at her daughter and Tonks blushes beet red, ducking her head and mumbling apologies, while still glaring murderously at me.

I might have miscalculated, but how could I expect some light teasing to come to this? Tonks surely would have to blame her own clumsy mouth. The server arriving stops the brewing argument and saves Tonks from turning full body red in embarrassment, for now.

I admit to having no idea what anything on the menu is, it's apparently a vegetarian restaurant. But all the names of the dishes sound fancy and don't really describe well what it is. I graciously bow to superior knowledge and let Andromeda order for me. The server leaves soon after with our orders and Andromeda immediately turns to me with a polite smile.

"Apologies for my daughter, we never did get to introduce ourselves. My name's Andromeda Tonks, and this is my husband Ted. You of course already know Nymphadora…" Andromeda fishes for my name by leaving a polite little silence after her introduction. I oblige.

"Nice to meet you, my name's Lucas Greenwood, a muggleborn orphan that Nymphadora has been kind enough to look after a bit before Hogwarts." I decide to throw Tonks a bone, in the benefit of avoiding having a witch out for my head at Hogwarts.

"Oh, Nymphadora, why didn't you say something? That's really sweet of you, dear." Andromeda says, reaching out and grabbing one of Nymphadora's hands, squeezing it.

Tonks blushes and mumbles something noncommittal, giving me a look of somewhat less absolute murder. Ted looks over us all shrewdly, no doubt understanding exactly what's going on, but ultimately shrugging, finding it funny and letting it all go on.

I nod along with the saturation of sweetness at the table right now, and add some more. "She calls me her baby claw."

Ted starts laughing again as Andromeda practically melts, holding onto her daughter's hand and giving her a sweet smile. "You'd make such a good mother." She says, freaking Tonks out by the wide eyed panicked look she's sporting. Oops, I might not actually be helping.

I almost blurt out to Tonks; can I call you mom, but realize that might actually be suicidal and so refrain. She already looks completely freaked out from her mom mentioning babies and her in the same breath.

The food arrives soon after, finally allowing Tonks some peace as we all slowly start eating, the subject moving to Hogwarts instead of more dangerous ground.

"So, you'll be joining Hogwarts soon, got any favorite subjects yet?" Ted asks me.

"Yes, two so far, but from what everyone tells me, and my own reading, the teachers will be useless in the subjects." I grouse.

Ted hums in thought, "Well I'd take a wager one of those classes is History of Magic then, Binns was always dreadfully boring, wasn't he Dromeda?"

Andromeda daintily puts down the goblet of wine she had been sipping, "I must agree he wasn't much use as a teacher, I never did understand why Dumbledore refuses to hire a proper professor for the subject."

"It's probably the Hogwarts board or the Ministry educational department keeping him, because of traditions or because they approve of how he only talks about goblin rebellions." I mutter, dejected that such a fantastic subject had fallen so low.

Andromeda raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow in surprise. "For a new entrant to the magical world you have managed to gather a lot of information in such a short time." She sounds mildly approving. She was a Slytherin wasn't she?

"Binns is great, he doesn't care if you duel in the back of the classroom or if you nap. You can't get rid of Binns." Tonks says with a cheeky grin to her parents.

Ted just chuckles again, he really is a cheerful man isn't he? Andromeda sends her daughter an exasperated look, "Dueling in class? Really?"

"It's better then listening to Binns!" Tonks shrugs. Sharing a smile with her dad.

"History should not be a subject destroyed like this! History is how you learn, what your ancestors tried and failed at, tried and succeeded at, how a society and culture learns to not repeat the same failures!" I say passionately. "Not to mention it's a History of Magic! Learning about Druidism and the Summer Solstice, Samhain and the Winter Solstice and how all these rituals and traditions and ceremonies came to be, it's something wizardkind should all share as a culture and with Binns as a teacher it's dying out!"

I blush as not only are my tablemates staring at me after that passionate declaration, so is the rest of the restaurant. I sink in my seat with a red face trying to disappear. Tonks is looking thoughtful, frowning at me, like she's never thought about History as a subject before.

"Too right lad, I haven't seen such a passionate young man in quite awhile, keep that fire, don't let old Binns extinguish it." One of the wizards at an adjacent table says to me approvingly. I nod my head at him quietly not wanting to open my mouth and let it run off again.

"Now you see why I call him baby claw." Tonks jumps in snickering, lightening the mood. Sending me a wink, her eyes still thoughtful and considering.

"You do seem well suited for Ravenclaw, dear." Andromeda acknowledges, giving me a tiny approving smile.

Ted gives me a rueful grin, "Nothing like me at that age are you lad? All I cared about was where my next sweet was and fooling around with my mates."

"Not much has changed." Andromeda says dryly, sending him a sweet look. Ted just chuckles, patting his belly.

"What's the second subject?" Tonks wants to know, pointing her fork at me, a glazed carrot pierced onto it.

I scratch my chin somewhat self conscious, I don't want to get drawn into a rant again. "Divination." I say, leaving it at that.

All three of my tablemates react exactly the same, the rise of an incredulous eyebrow as they stare at me in concert, almost enough to make me laugh. I can hear the quietly exclaimed surprise from another table, so they're still eavesdropping, nosy wizards.

"But Divination is a load of bunk!" Tonks exclaims loudly, breaking the incredulous silence.

I shake my head. "You don't really think a magical field that's existed for over two millennia and is still studied today, is completely useless. Based on a teacher that's been at Hogwarts for what? A decade?"

"I've never thought of it like that." Ted interjects thoughtfully, he grins at me sheepishly, "However Divination seemed like a load of rubbish to me in school too."

Tonks nods firmly, "See, even like a hundred years ago it was complete tosh!" Which earns her a joking "How old do you think I am?" From her dad.

I take out my pouch of Mooncalf dice from my mokeskin pouch, pouring them onto the table. "These are used for Cubomancy, a form of divination that I've learned in the space of a day, that allows me to divine my day under the pretext of one question. I did it this morning. To ask if it would be safe to enter Knockturn Alley, and my answer was that I'd have good fortune. I found an amazing find in McGonagall's knick knacks store and then was found by Tonks and brought here for a fine lunch with good company." I pick up the dice and roll them around my fingers, "Seems it worked just fine, and this is only one of the many ways any normal wizard or witch can use divination without being a seer. I was lucky to find a great book by Cassiopeia Black which explained it all, before I had a chance to have divination ruined by the Hogwarts professor."

Andromeda jolts at the mention of Cassiopeia, I remember that she was originally a Black, maybe Cassiopeia is someone she knows? I wanted to ask, but I was barely acquainted and it would be rude considering she was not in good standing with her family in canon. When Sirius broke out, no older member of the family is really mentioned much, so she was likely dead anyway.

Both Tonks and Ted seem to have come around a little at my passionate defense of Divination. Although Tonks still continues to question me.

"So why does Trelawney just keep blathering on about predictions through star charts and reading tea leaves and not useful stuff like that?" She asks skeptically.

"Tasseomancy is a difficult and time consuming art and probably won't work with Hogwarts students." I say diplomatically. Not wanting to call Trelawney a hack in front of witnesses. "As for star charts I haven't read everything in Cassiopeia's book yet, so far there's been no mention of stars for use in divination."

"Always knew she was a hack." Tonks mutters, "Hours wasted on those damn things." She viciously stabs at her food, biting into it like she could pay her professor back for useless homework assignments.

"For an incoming first year student, you certainly have prepared well. You have a keen mind." Andromeda compliments me, "You could teach my daughter a few things." She continues. I want no part of that! Please don't use my fragile self to lecture your daughter! I think, feeling annoyed. I do not need more reasons to be hexed at Hogwarts than my own teasing!

Tonks doesn't take it at all as I thought she would, just shrugging her shoulders easily, giving me a hopeful look, "I wouldn't mind learning some more about Divination, sounds like it could be dead useful if done right."

She was already on the auror path most likely, probably part of the career advice session she had with Flitwick, an old dueling master. Some divination tricks could be helpful in that path. Or that is how I'm imagining her thought process has gone right now. Just from my previous knowledge and the context.

"Don't bully the first year, Dora." Ted chides slightly, "he'll have enough on his plate as a first year muggleborn."

"I don't mind." I say quickly before Tonks can change her mind. "I'm sure there's some cool things she can teach me in exchange."

"Slytherin thinking." Andromeda says approvingly.

Briefly I hear the same wizard who had interjected before at the adjacent table swear, and mutter, "There's no way that lad is a muggleborn!"

The Tonkses send him a look as one, and he grimaces, I don't bother looking his way, I'm certain I'll face this attitude constantly. Tonks turns back my way smiling at me, her eyes have a spark of righteous anger in them if I'm not mistaken. "I'll definitely meet you at Hogwarts and we'll both learn some cool stuff, alright, Lucas?"

"Sure… Nymphadora." I say cheekily.

Her hair flares red, "Don't call me that!" She bites out, "It's Tonks!"

"When are you ever going to grow up and accept your name, Nymphadora?" Andromeda sighs. She turns to me, "Feel free to send us an owl if my daughter is causing you any trouble."

"Mom!" Tonks hisses, horrified.

I just smile, not saying yes or no. Andromeda had just basically ensured her daughter's cooperation and pleasant attitude by giving me a way and means and even an invite to tattle to her mom if she misbehaves. Slytherins never do stop being Slytherins.

"I'll break out her baby pictures too, that will keep her in line." Ted gives me a wink.

"Mom! Dad! You're supposed to be on my side!" Tonks complains gesturing wildly in the air.

I smile as they argue good naturedly with each other. This is the kind of stuff I've been missing in this life. Family, friends. People to share my thoughts with. I look down at the table conflicted. I was going to avoid the plot, Ted would die. Tonks would die. Andromeda would be tortured. It was the right thing to do… for me. I couldn't fight a war. Or face the muggleborn camps. Yet… Could I leave people like the Tonkses to suffer. I would have to… Magic was more important. My life was more important. It had to be.

The Tonkses notice my somewhat mournful silence, thankfully they don't ask or push, no doubt figuring it was my orphan status that was bringing my mood down in such a family setting. Noticing I've completely brought down the happy mood of those around me I slide off my seat and give them a slight bow. "Thank you for the meal, it was nice meeting you, I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts, Tonks!" I say my goodbyes and flee the restaurant before I let my thoughts dwell too much on the disaster that will fall on their family.

At least my divination came true, I did find good fortune today, in more ways than one.

I return to the Leaky Cauldron to continue studying and practicing magic.

I would be something they've never seen before. I'd ensure it!

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A week after my luncheon with the Tonkses, I enter the common areas of the Leaky Cauldron and I am immediately accosted by Tom, who hands me a Daily Prophet, open to page 3.

I stare at the article in both shock and annoyance.

History of Magic is dying?

This reporter happened to be having lunch at the always delightfully charming Amare Naturae a week ago, when it just so happened that a student entering his first year in Hogwarts held a passionate speech on the importance of History of Magic as a subject for all of wizardkind.

Now I, as you no doubt are as well, dear readers, was skeptical. Having suffered through years of Professor Binns endless goblin rebellion lectures I saw no benefit to wizardkind in the subject.

This young student, not even a first year student yet. Passionately defended the cultural knowledge and traditions of wizardkind. Celebrating our druidic roots, bringing tears to the eyes of the patrons in earshot, as he declared that without a deep knowledge of our history, wizardkind is not only doomed to repeat the mistakes of our ancestors, but that we will lose those treasured ceremonies and culturally significant traditions that binds us together as one magical people.

I was moved dear reader! Never before had I thought of the ancient past to be so poignant for today, nor the future!

Some research quickly brought to the fore the fact that those traditional ceremonies every wizarding family performed as a matter of course, have practically died out. The Summer and Winter solstice, despite being celebrations of magic, family and ancestry, is now barely held to by only the most staunch traditionalists.

The night of Samhain, once shared across the magical world, has almost completely disappeared, even Hogwarts celebrating the muggle holiday Halloween instead. A day of candy and costumes, instead of the day wizardkind celebrated their history and ancestry and communicated with their loved ones beyond the veil.

Has Albus Dumbledore realized this? Is the headmaster behind this erosion of magical culture?

How has this been allowed to happen? Why is a ghost still teaching the same old material every year at Hogwarts? Why has the Department of magical education not stepped in and updated the exam and the class to educate our young in the traditions and ceremonies that made us a people, a community to begin with?

And why is it that an eleven year old muggleborn by the name of Lucas Greenwood, venerates and loves our history more than we ourselves do? That before he's even had one class, he's already looked up and celebrated the rich traditions of our people.

I give thanks to this young man for setting me on this quest of looking for answers. His passion has lit a flame in me. If a muggleborn just entering the wizarding world stands in awe of our cultural heritage, why do we not celebrate it so?

I intend to find out.

Cassian Routledge, special reporter for the Daily Prophet.

For the response from the head of the Department of magical education see page 9.

Albus Dumbledore refuses to criticize Professor Binns on page 11

For more on wizarding traditions like Samhain see page 14.

That absolute bastard took the 45 second rant I had and turned it into spellfire against Hogwarts and the Ministry both. And he also name dropped me, one and a half weeks before I go to Hogwarts.

"Thank you for showing me, Tom." I say, politely handing the paper back. Making excuses to leave and rushing back up to my room.

I enter the bathroom and splash water into my face, trying to think on how much this will change things. I already have plans that would likely have me in the paper after the new year. But I'd already be at Hogwarts then, protected, and already a known quantity to its students. This… This would make people have opinions about me before even meeting me. I have no idea of how the purebloods would react to a mudblood defending their traditions. Or how the muggleborns would see that defense. Those that have already experienced abuse and racism and see this naive eleven year old muggleborn defending their abusers ancient ways.

Fuck. I think to myself. Staring into the mirror. Whatever came from this article. My name would be tied to it. If Binns was to be sacked. If Halloween was switched to Samhain… I would be to blame in the eyes of the students. And not that I necessarily minded those changes, because I did agree those magical traditions were important. But I didn't want my name tied as the reason why! Especially as idiot students wouldn't be able to discern the difference between magical culture and history and the inbred racism supported today. They'd think I supported it all. They were incredibly all or nothing these wizards. Especially Hogwarts students. The books proved this over and over again.

I groan, banging my head on the sink. What will someone like Snape think when he sees that article? I might be joining Harry as a punching bag in potions. No doubt I was now attention seeking, crawling out of my orphanage to wax poetically outside wizarding restaurants hopped up on my own importance. Or so I imagine he would put it.

Adults never like it when young students tell them they're wrong about something. It wouldn't matter that I fully believe ancient magical traditions are more important then a muggle holiday. It wouldn't matter if they agreed with me. Adults do not like being shown up by kids. I hope the professors other than Snape were able to see I meant no disrespect to Hogwarts, or to Dumbledore.

That reporter was sitting at the restaurant on the day I was supposed to have good fortune. Or was the good fortune only for my foray into Knockturn Alley as that's what I had asked? I think, wishing I had been a bit more encompassing on my question for the day. Maybe I would have avoided the reporter if I'd asked the dice about my entire day. On the other hand, perhaps I am reading too much into this, and this could have positive side effects. Only time will tell. I'm pessimistic about the outcome, however. I do not hold much faith in the general intelligence of Hogwarts students.

I walk into my room, determined to study and practice magic and stay out of the common areas of the Leaky Cauldron for now. I was almost at the point of a wandless Accio. Some extra time practicing couldn't hurt.

I might need it when I start Hogwarts…

I'm no longer going to be quite as anonymous as I had hoped to start out as.

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