Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

Forward: This story came about as a challenge from my sister: to write a Harry Potter piece where Harry wasn't hated by the Dursleys. This story is female!potter since I think that Harry getting a decent childhood is more likely if he was a girl, but not a clone of his mother. With a boy Harry Potter the Dursleys constantly compared him to Dudley. In retrospect I'm not sure if this would actually cause such a big change, but that is the story I wrote. I'll also warn you up front that my favorite aspect of writing is world building, so expect that to be emphasized with a great number of details that may or may not become relevant to the plot. Now the story of Harriet Clover Potter.

Chapter 1: Where the idiosyncratic chapter naming begins:

Harriet Clover Potter moaned when she heard her Aunt Petunia knocking on the door. "Get up Clover. You promised to help cook on Dudley's birthday!" Clover rolled over and fell off the side of the bed with a dull thump. She could hear her Aunt ask, "Are you up yet?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia, I'll be right out." Clover gave her hair a few perfunctory swipes with her hairbrush before quickly throwing on a skirt and top. When she made it to the kitchen her Aunt was already cooking blueberry pancakes, Dudley's favorite. The kitchen table was absolutely covered with presents for him. Clover saw with satisfaction the red box holding the pair of boxing gloves she had gotten Dudley was near the top.

Petunia saw her as she came down the stairs and gestured at the mess of pans cooking before her, "Help with the bacon and I'll finish up the pancakes."

"Yes, ma'am." Clover joined her aunt and started flipping the strips of bacon while dodging the occasional splash of hot grease. When the bacon was just shy of crispy she pulled them off of the frying pan and sat them on the plate her aunt had laid out for her.

Aunt Petunia finished the last of the pancakes and cut off her half of the cook top before saying, "Fry a couple eggs for Uncle Vernon before you clean up. I'm going to go wake up Dudley."

Vernon stumbled into the dinning room a moment later. Clover finished the eggs and sat the plate in front of him while he poured himself a cup of coffee. He looked up thankfully and said, "I see your working hard this morning."

"It's the family motto, sir."

He rolled his eyes and said, "And I bet you can quote it in fifteen different languages, each more pretentious sounding than the last."

Clover smiled and said, "My favorite at the moment is Portuguese."

"Oh, it was Japanese last week."

"Dudley started laughing every time I said bitokudesu."

Uncle Vernon groaned at the memory and asked, "What was that about anyway?"

"I don't know, some internet thing."

Aunt Petunia lead a blindfolded Dudley into the room. When she pulled off his blindfold he shouted in excitement at the top of his lungs. "Wow mom! There are so many."

Uncle Vernon cheered, "Only the best for our little boy!"

"Dad I'm eleven now!"

Petunia bit back a laugh and corrected, "Only the best for our young man!"

Clover picked up the red box and said, "Happy Birthday Dudley," before thrusting it into his arms.

He said, "Thanks Clover," before ripping off the wrapping paper. His face lit up when he saw the boxing gloves. He hugged clover and crowed, "These are awesome! Now I'm sure to make the team."

Aunt Petunia cut in before Dudley could reach for another present. "Clover and I worked all morning on this breakfast; eat while it is still hot."

"Yes mom." Dudley sat down and served himself a generous portion of bacon. Clover had barely finished her toast when Dudley's plate was miraculously clear again. He washed down breakfast with a huge gulp of juice before saying, "I'm done mom! I'm going to open a few more presents."

Vernon chuckled at his wife's disapproving look. He defended Dudley, "The boy knows what he wants; just like his dad." Aunt Petunia rolled her eyes and stole the comics out of Uncle Vernon's newspaper while Dudley tore open another package.

By the time Piers Polkiss and his mom rang the doorbell Dudley had accumulated an impressive stack of toys. Including a new television and a music player that Clover planned to extort out of her cousin. Piers looked suitably impressed when he saw the pile of goods. Dudley enjoyed his friends thinly veiled jealousy a moment before saying, "Piers! Did you see Clover got me a pair of boxing gloves? They are Everlast, the same type the pros use! I'm sure to make the Smeltings team now."

"We can help you practice, as long as I don't have to fight your cousin."

Clover grinned and made a token protest, "I was six!" She sniffed dramatically, "I have grown into a reputable lady since." And she had. In an effort to distance herself from the girl who had accidentally pushed Piers through a brick wall in the first grade she had grown her once close cut bob of hair out into a respectable ponytail that ended in the small of her back, and Aunt Petunia had even let her take up playing the piano. She had been good enough to win silver at her last recital.

Piers looked at her like she was telling him the earth was flat. Clover cocked an eyebrow dramatically and Dudley cut into the conversation, "I don't know Piers, she might be telling the truth. Last night when Dad asked what we want to see at the zoo she said 'the birds of paradise'. I don't think you can be more girly than that."

"Could the tomboy terror have died at last?"

Clover changed the topic before any more of her embarrassing nicknames came up, "So Piers what animal do you want to see?"

"The lions. I hear the lion was sent to the zoo after it escaped from the circus. It ate six people before they were able to catch it. They have to feed it by throwing meat over the fence since everyone is too scared to go into the cage."

Fifteen minutes later they crammed into the back of the Dursley's car and driving to the zoo. Dudley, Clover and Piers were engaged in one of their favorite pastimes, watching Uncle Vernon complain. Normally listening to people complain would be boring, but Uncle Vernon was different. He had long since refined complaining into a high art. Every time they listened to Uncle Vernon complain they came away with a dozen new invectives and insults as well as a through understanding of how the subject in question was a menace to all upright hard working people. Today the subject was motorcycles and Uncle Vernon was in fine form, "...hoodlums, I saw a newsreel about them. It's all cause their parents didn't love them enough you see. You kids remember that! If you ever get on a bike its a slap in your mother's face. We raised you -"

"Honey we are here."

It was a sunny summer day and the zoo was crowded with families. Uncle Vernon bought the three of them ice cream before they wandered through the exhibits. Clover couldn't help but laugh when a gorilla started miming Dudley's gestures. The primate made it all the way through the macarena before it got bored and retreated into the fake cave it lived in.

The lion was a disappointment. Far far from the man eater that Piers had predicted, the lion was an old cat whose fur hung in clumps. It laid lazily with its mate in the sun on top of a big rock while idly swatting at flies with it's tail. The tiger had been more interesting; it had stalked back and forth near the fence as though it was waiting impatiently for something. Dudley had dared Piers to stick his arm through the fence, but he had refused.

Lunch had been a brief affair underneath the canopy of a fast food restaurant called the wild side. The highlight of the meal had been Dudley's rather impressive pleading as he convinced his parents that he absolutely needed a giant alien head souvenir cup.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It proved to be a great choice as they walked into the cool and dark house just as the afternoon heat was peaking. The reptile house was a pair of huge halls lined on both sides with glass displays where all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Clover ran over to one end of the hall where a pair of huge Galapagos Tortoises were slowly wandering around their pen.

Someone had painted a red number one on the first tortoise and a number two on the second tortoise. She was wondering if they numbered them for races when Dudley grabbed her arm and shouted, "Come look at this!" before yanking her along behind him.

Dudley had found an rather irate Egyptian spitting cobra that had its hood stretched wide open and was cursing in angry hisses as a zookeeper cleaned its cage. To Clover's great distress she could understand the snake perfectly; she thought her ears were going to turn blue from its impressive vocabulary. She immediately followed her Aunts advice for coping with the strange things that seemed to keep occurring around her and pretended absolutely nothing was out of the ordinary.

The cobra finally settled down with a sigh of, _"No respect!"_ when the zookeeper closed the door in the back of the cage. The next cage over was three times as large and had the biggest snake that Clover had ever seen. Clover thought the snake could have crushed Uncle Vernon's car if it had wanted to, but it didn't look interested. In fact it was laying in the big pool of water at the bottom of its cage asleep.

Dudley whined, "Aww its asleep, boring!"

Clover had a short mental argument and decided to break her aunts rules and speak to the snake. It was her cousin's birthday after all. She hissed out, _"Hello."_

The snake snapped open a single eye and grumbled, _"Morning."_

_ "It's afternoon actually."_

The snake raised its head up to Clover's eye level and stared at her a moment. Piers interrupted the moment by asking, "You can speak to snakes?"

His eyes widened when Clover quipped, "Snake was after Bear in my copy of _Say Hello in a Thousand Ways!_"

Piers' excited "Really?" Earned him a pair of disbelieving looks.

Clover finally said, "It's a snake, hiss at it if you want it to do something."

The snake was not amused by Dudley and Piers suddenly hissing at the glass. It looked up at the ceiling in annoyance and said, _"Speaker...Your friends are idiots."_

_"Sorry."_

_ "Not a problem; wait until I tell Maria I met a speaker. She'll be so impresssed."_ The snake started swaying back in forth while hissing out a love song about his dear Maria.

Clover refused to contemplate what she had just done for a python's love live and quickly hissed, _"Goodbye,"_ before moving on the the next display.

Aunt Petunia appeared by her a moment later and asked in a low voice, "You can talk to snakes?"

Clover smiled, she was glad Aunt Petunia wasn't mad after all. She had grounded Clover a week after the time the dishes had come to life. Aunt Petunia quirked an eyebrow at her niece and Clover quickly replied, "Yes, ma'am." They exited the reptile house before Clover had the chance to acquaint herself with any more of the inmates. When they conducted a brief tour of the avian house Clover found to her great relief she couldn't speak to the brightly plumage birds.

Aunt Petunia didn't mention Clover's new found ability to talk to snakes again as they finished their day at the zoo. The ride back to number four privet drive was quiet, they were all exhausted from walking all day.

;

Two weeks later school finally released for the summer holidays. Clover didn't know why they had made them stay that long. Their primary school didn't have final exams, so everyone had already known their grades, and the teachers had collected their text's a week before school ended. So they had watched cartoons for the last week of school.

After lying around for their first week of freedom, Dudley's gang of friends started coming over to play every day. Clover made a habit of leaving the house after she finished her morning chores. Dudley's friends were all nice people, but their was only so much soccer and boxing discussion Clover could handle before she blew a fuse. As long as she was back before dark and didn't leave the area, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon let her wander. After blowing her pocket money on a trip to the mall Clover started visiting the library. She inevitably ended up spending hours practicing piano on the old Yamaha they had hidden in their basement.

On the third week of summer Dudley received a thick card stock letter of acceptance from Smeltings. Uncle Vernon's alma mater. Piers Polkiss and their big friend Gordon were going there too. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had taken them all out to eat to celebrate. After the meal Aunt Petunia noticed Clover's wistful expression and took her aside to tell her that she had applied for Clover to attend her parent's alma mater. She would probably receive a letter from the school any day. Clover had brightened up immediately.

The day after Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform. Clover had tagged along in an effort to get Aunt Petunia to buy her a new skirt or dress out of sympathy. Unfortunately Aunt Petunia was a shrewd bargainer. All Clover had been able to get out of her Aunt was few new hairbands.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand new Smeltings uniform. Clover had to bite back a few laughs while Uncle Vernon told Dudley that it was the proudest moment of his life. It got harder when Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins. To Clover's great amusement Dudley went bright red at the unfortunate nickname.

Clover decided to make sure she got a copy of Aunt Petunia's pictures for future blackmail. Dudley was standing there blushing in a maroon tailcoat and a pair of orange knickerbockers. On his head was a big flat straw hat called a boater. He also carried a knobbly stick used for hitting other student's when the teachers weren't looking. It was supposed to be good training for later life. The practice vaguely lined up with Uncle Vernon's second motto, 'Fair play has no place in business.'

Dudley had such a serious face when he asked her later if he looked alright. Clover didn't have the heart to tell him how funny she found the whole outfit. She bit back a laugh and assured him that he looked fine. Dudley hugged her and assured her that if her parents school didn't come through then Uncle Vernon would pull some strings and they could all go to Smeltings together. Clover hoped not, she loved her cousin, but the Smeltings girl's uniform was even worse than the boy's.

The next morning Clover was flipping through the mail when she saw a letter addressed:

** Ms. H. Potter**

** The Lilac Bedroom**

** 4 Privet Drive**

** Little Whinging**

** Surrey**

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp. Clover flipped the envelope over and saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H. Clover idly wondered if she had a stalker like the celebrities before passing the envelope to her Aunt Petunia.

Aunt Petunia startled when she saw the letter. Her face went a bit pale but she gave Clover a determined smile and said, "It's from the School, I'll talk to you about it tonight."

"Wait."

Aunt Petunia's voice took on a firm no nonsense tone. "Tonight."

Clover knew that tone. She bit back a sigh and said, "Yes, ma'am."

Later that night when Clover was about to go asleep for the night Aunt Petunia came and sat on the end of her bed. She had the letter clenched in her hands. Clover gave her Aunt a small smile and said, "Aunt Petunia what are you so upset about?"

"I'm not...I knew this was coming." Clover thought she sure sounded upset despite her denial. Aunt Petunia sat the letter down on the edge of the bed. "Before you open this letter I want to tell you … a story."

"Auntie?"

"Your mother and I had a falling out over a letter like this. You see your mother was a witch." Aunt Petunia saw Clover's hurt expression and pinched her. "Not like that silly." Aunt Petunia's face became grave again, "Though it took years for me to figure it out. I mean your mother could do magic."

Clover's eyes went wide in realization. "The weird things that keep happening..."

"Are magic, strange things always seemed to follow you mother around." They sat on the bed and talked a bit about the magic world until Aunt Petunia finally had to ask, "Your taking this awfully well."

"I'm trying not to shout 'I knew it!' at the top of my lungs." Clover blinked as another thought occurred to her. "Auntie is this why strangers sometimes seem to know me? I remember that one time a man walked up to me and said 'thank you' before breaking down in tears."

"Thats...A different story." Aunt Petunia sighed and asked, "What did I always say when you asked how your parents died?"

Clover mimicked her aunt's voice, "I'll tell you when you are older." Then her face lit up in sudden realization.

Aunt Petunia smiled at her niece and said, "You are older now." Aunt Petunia patted the mattress and Clover moved beside her. "I don't know all of the details, I...wasn't on the best of terms with Lily and Vernon doesn't even know the magical world exists." Aunt Petunia took a deep breath and started, "Before you were born a man became corrupt with evil magic and declared himself Dark Lord Voldemort."

Clover's face was puzzled and she spent a moment idly fiddling with her bangs while wondering if her question was inappropriate before finally asking. "Flight from death?"

Aunt Petunia chuckled bitterly, "I always thought it was funny too. But from what I understand, back then most people really thought that man had used dark powers to become invincible. Your parents fought against him and so he hunted them down. No one really knows what happened when he found them, but you were found in the wreckage of your parents house and the dark lord was no more. Albus Dumbledore brought you here afterwords, I didn't really realize how bad my relationship with your mother had become until Dumbledore told me she was dead. Lost in a war I didn't even know existed." Petunia took a deep breath and instructed, "Open your letter."

Clover ripped open the thick parchment letter and read. At the top of the page in big looping handwriting were emblazoned the words: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Clover looked up at her Aunt confused. "I don't want to make you sad auntie."

Petunia squeezed her. "You could never make me sad, you darling little girl."

Clover hugged her Aunt and whispered, "Thanks." Her Aunt kissed her on the forehead and sat the letter on the small bedside shelf. Clover smiled at the unspoken command to sleep on the decision and sat her glasses on top of the letter before Aunt Petunia turned off the light.

The first words she said to her Aunt the next morning were, "I want to go."

Aunt Petunia nodded in acceptance before returning to cooking. Clover and her aunt had just finished the sausage when Dudley and Uncle Vernon made it to the kitchen. Once everyone was seated Aunt Petunia announced, "Clover got her acceptance letter from Hogwarts last night."

Dudley started laughing, "Wow what a stupid name."

Clover glared. "Smeltings isn't much better."

Uncle Vernon and Dudley protested in sync, "Hey!"

Aunt Petunia gave them a long suffering look and said, "I plan to take Clover into London tomorrow to buy her school things. Dudley isn't tomorrow Piers' birthday?"

"Yeah, he's taking us to a theme park. I think I'm tall enough to ride the big coaster now."

Clover frowned a moment then realized how subtly her Aunt had changed the subject. She briefly wondered why Aunt Petunia didn't want Dudley to know about magic, but quietly swore to help her anyway. She was sure her aunt had reasons.

The days wait was killing Clover. She ended up running to the library and started working though her entire music book. Several times she stopped and the middle of a song and started pacing excitedly before forcing herself to calm down and play. She kept forcing herself back to the piano until Mrs. Candor the long suffering librarian walked down to the basement and told her the library was closing.

She had to run to make it back to Privet Drive before it got dark, but her aunt and uncle didn't say anything when she ran in minutes before her curfew heaving for breath. She fidgeted as she quickly completed the rest of her daily chores and went to bed early so the next day would come sooner.

; )^{{{{[{

Aunt Petunia found the worn silver ring Dumbledore had given her when he had left Clover behind. When she slipped it on her finger she felt a small rush as the ring's magic protected her against muggle deterrents.

Clover was waiting with breakfast laying out on the table when Aunt Petunia made it down the stairs. Petunia chuckled at her excited niece and asked, "Eager are we?"

Clover shot her aunt a shameless smile and nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

Aunt Petunia grabbed a piece of toast from the pile and asked, "Did you make enough for your Uncle and Dudley?"

"Yes Aunt Petunia, I left it in the warming tray." Clover stared at her aunt as she took what seemed like ages to eat a few pieces of fruit and another slice of toast.

Finally Aunt Petunia sat her napkin on the table and asked, "Do you think the boys will be able to handle themselves while we're gone?"

Clover bit back a quip about Dudley burning down the house. She was afraid Aunt Petunia might take it seriously and then they wouldn't get to go to London. A few moments later they were waiting at the bus stop to catch a ride into London. While they sat on the bench Clover listened as her Aunt Petunia gave her the basics of the wizarding world, "Wizards call people who can't use magic muggles."

"So your a muggle Aunt Petunia?"

"Well... yes, I am, but while we're on this shopping trip you need to call me a squib if anyone asks."

"What does that mean?"

"It means someone who is from a magical family but doesn't have magic themselves. They are looked down on in magical society, but its better than being considered a muggle. These people normally won't even do business with muggles."

"That doesn't seem very fair."

"It isn't. So you'll your aunt a squib if asked right?"

"It all seems so very mysterious like were agents in one of Dudley's movies."

Aunt Petunia put her hands over her mouth and made a noise like electric static before saying, "Come in agent Clover...We have a new assignment..."

Clover started laughing at her aunts antics and didn't stop until the bus pulled up a few minutes later. They found a pair of comfortable seats on the bus and continued their conversation. "Clover, I want you to keep a low profile, I'm sure its calmed down some but when I last went into the wizarding world they were calling you the girl who lived and setting you up as some sort of messiah figure."

"I'm famous?" Clover's shocked expression turned to a grimace. "For not dying?"

"Ten years ago, hopefully it has blown over by now." The bus let them off in a London industrial park. Clover looked about and wondered where in London they would find a place that sold magical items. Clover struggled to keep up with her Aunt Petunia's brisk pace as they set off across London. A few blocks later her Aunt came to an abrupt stop and stared at a dirty little pub overshadowed by nicer buildings on both sides.

Her Aunt took a breath and said, "This is it, The Leaky Cauldron."

Clover was instantly struck by a horrible suspicion that her aunt was playing a practical joke on her. "Auntie, that's a pub."

Her Aunt walked inside as though she hadn't heard Clover. A minute later Clover rushed after her aunt, unwilling to be left out on the London streets even if it was a practical joke. The pub was very dark and shabby inside. A few old women were sitting in one corner drinking glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man with a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut.

Aunt Petunia waited for the man with the top hat to get his drink before walking right up to the bartender and asking, "Tom? Your still the barman here?"

The bartender startled a bit. "Actually I'm the owner, just don't trust the new hires with my bar." He frowned and added, "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage Mrs. …?"

"Dursley. But I was Evans the last time I met you."

Realization flickered across his face, "You're Lily's sister. That makes this …. Good Lord it is, Harriet Potter." The conversation in the bar died instantly. The old bartender rushed out from behind his bar and seized Clover's hand before shaking vigorously while mumbling, "What an honor..."

Clover didn't know how to reply. She dumbly wondered if this was how celebrities felt all of the time and quietly cursed her idle fantasies of being a famous pianist. Clover had a moment to glace at her aunt's dumbstruck face before their was a general scrapping of chairs. Clover found herself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Ms. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Ms. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand - I'm all a flutter."

"Delighted, Ms. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the last name Dedalus Diggle."

Clover mummered in a daze, "Daedalus is the man who built the great labyrinth to imprison the minotaur."

Their was a general lull in the conversation before Mr. Diggle bowed deeply and replied, "A distant ancestor I assure you."

Next a stuttering pale man made his way into the crowd and introduced himself. "P-P-Potter, can't tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you. Quirinus Quirrell; Hogwarts' D-Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year."

Clover managed to recover enough to stammer out a choppy reply, "N-Nice to meet you sir."

Aunt Petunia came to the rescue before the rest of the crowed could close in on her. She took a firm hold of Clover's hand and said "Tom we need to pick up her things, can you open the way to Diagon Ally please?"

Tom the bartender lead them to a brick wall in the back of the pub. While he fiddled through his pockets Clover muttered, "So much for blown over."

Clover was almost certain she heard her Aunt mutter something entirely inappropriate when Tom finally pulled a stick from his robes. Tom addressed the wall. "Three up, Two across." He tapped sharply three times on the indicated brick with his stick. For a moment nothing happened then the entire wall began to rumble. A brick in the middle of the wall quivered. A small hole appeared and grew wider and wider until they were facing a huge archway. Tom stood before the cobbled twisting road beyond the archway and proclaimed, "Welcome to Diagon Ally!"

After a final round of handshakes the walked through the arch. Clover stared as the brick archway reformed into a solid wall before her eyes. The sun shone brightly on the ally and it was wondrous. Aunt Petunia had to grab her hand before Clover ran off to peer into windows. "We need to go to Gringotts first."

Clover nodded numbly, "Okay." A moment later she looked up at her aunt and asked, "Whats a Gringott?"

"Gringotts is the wizarding bank. Run by goblins."

"Goblins?"

Aunt Petunia grinned at her niece, and said, "You know its really nice to be the one explaining instead of the dumbfounded little girl."

"I resent that remark." Clover snapped her head about trying to take in everything as they walked towards Gringotts. A dark shop with a thousand blinking eyes looking out the window proudly proclaimed itself, Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown and Snowy. Another shop was full of hundreds of different chess boards. Clover thought she saw one of the pieces yawn before her aunt pulled her on.

They walked by a shop that had huge stacks of cauldron's outside of every size and material imaginable. One the size of a melon even looked like it was made of pure gold. Next to the cauldron shop was an apothecary displaying a dozen herbs and extracts with names she didn't recognize.

The ally opened into a square and Clover saw a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Her aunt saw the question in her eyes and answered, "Gringotts." Aunt petunia pointed at what appeared to be an man her height wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold with a great hook nose. "And that is a goblin." Clover had a moment to look at the goblin as the marched into the bank. He had a pointed beard and very long fingers that tapered of into nails that were vaguely reminiscent of claws.

The goblin bowed as the walked through Gringotts great bronze doors. Now they were facing another pairs of doors, silver this time, with words engraved on them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_ Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_ For those who take, but do not earn,_

_ Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_ So if you seek beneath our floors_

_ A treasure that was never yours,_

_ Thief you have been warned, beware_

_ Of finding more than treasure there._

"When we were young Lily always found that reassuring. That the goblins would do anything to protect the wealth stored here." She saw Clovers face and added, "And I always thought it was creepy." A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a a vast marble hall. Hundreds of more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, writing furiously in ledgers and weighing coins in brass scales. Clover saw one goblin examining a green gemstone with thousands of glittering facets with a pair of huge eyeglasses. Thousands of doors lead off from the main hall and goblins seemed to be escorting customers to and from them all.

Aunt Petunia lead Clover to an empty counter and told the goblin, "My niece needs to visit her vault."

The goblin didn't look up from its ledger, "Name."

Clover looked at her aunt then replied in a clear firm voice, "Harriet Clover Potter."

The reactions she had feared didn't come, the goblin didn't seem to react at all to her name. A moment later it asked, "Key."

Clover looked up at her aunt for help and Petunia answered for her, "I'm afraid we don't have her key."

The goblin finally sat down its quill and looked up, "She will need to prove her identity. Follow." The goblin hung a closed sign over its counter and started off towards one of the doors. He never looked back as Clover and Aunt Petunia rushed to keep up with him. The twisting passages of Gringotts bank served to quickly confuse the two humans. After a few minutes of walking Clover and her Aunt were thoroughly lost and the goblin pulled open a metal door that looked identical to every other door they had passed.

Inside was an square room no more than fifteen feet on a side; the only furnishing was a silver cup on a pedestal in the center. Clover turned to the goblin and asked, "This will prove my identity, sir?"

"Clampfist." The goblin looked at her like she should have already known its name and started explaining in a tone that most professors reserved for particularly stupid pupils, "This cup shows your parents names. We will perform a very abridged version of an inheritance ritual."

"A what?"

The goblin gave her a frown that sent shivers down her spine and answered, "An inheritance ritual. They are used to claim vaults for which the direct line of inheritance has died out. We preform the ritual for muggleborns at a discount rate because of the prevalence of squib lines." The goblin pulled out a small knife and demanded, "Your hand."

Clover screwed up her courage and offered the goblin her hand. She gritted her teeth when he sliced her palm open and blood pooled in her palm. The pain vanished when the goblin plunged her hand into the cup. When he let her withdraw her hand the cut was gone. She stared at her palm a moment and asked, "Can I do it?"

The goblin sneered and replied, "Your ministry only allows adults." He clasped his hands around the cup and suddenly spoke in a different voice, "Ms. Harriet Clover Potter may access the Potter trust vault. The Family vault has been sealed until Ms. Potter becomes Lord Potter."

Petunia had to bite back a chuckle when Clover indigently squawked, "Lord?"

The goblin didn't seem to notice, "The masculine title is used to describe anyone who is a peer in their own right. This way..." The goblin marched from the room and lead them deeper into the the bank. Outside another identical metal door the goblin suddenly stopped and instructed, "Wait here."

He went inside and appeared a moment later with a younger goblin. "Griphook will take you to your vault." He thrust a small metal key into Clover's hand and added, "Number six hundred and eighty seven."

Griphook was another goblin who lead them through the impenetrable maze of corridors until they were in a narrow hallway that sloped steeply downwards with tracks in the floor. Griphook whistled and a cart came hurtling up the tracks towards them. It jerked to a stop right in front of Clover and they all piled into the uncomfortable contraption right before it hurtled off again.

Clover thought Dudley would be jealous if he knew the roller coaster he had bragged about was badly outclassed. The cart swept through a series of high speed turns and high banks. Clover tried to remember the number of forks they passed but it quickly became impossible. The cart seemed to know its own way since Griphook wasn't steering. The drove along the edge of an underground lake for awhile before it terminated in a grand waterfall into the abyss below. Then they dove into another tunnel before coming to abrupt stop that gave Clover's neck whiplash.

"Vault six hundred and eighty seven." Griphook hopped from the cart and stretched out his hand, "Key." Clover fought off the waves of dizziness long enough to hand over the key to Griphook. She gasped when he unlocked the door. The inside of the vault was covered in huge piles of coins. One stack of giltering gold even reached the ceiling of the vault. Clover stared at the wealth, stunned. It was like a seen from that movie where the kids find the pirate ship that Dudley and his friends kept watching. She couldn't even imagine how much wealth was actually in the vault.

"The gold ones are Galleons." The goblin explained, "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle."

Aunt Petunia numbly nodded then shook herself out of her daze. She turned to the goblin sharply and asked, "How much do people normally withdrawal to pay for school supplies?"

"One hundred and twenty galleons is sufficient with generous overflow. If you are expecting to make purchases larger than that I suggest you buy a Gringotts draft book rather than carrying around large amounts of gold."

Clover recovered enough to join the conversation, "What is a draft book?"

The goblin gave her a creepy smile. "A Gringotts draft book allows you to make magical payments simply by filling out the amount and the recipient. Totally theft proof and protects against coerced payments, available in black, red, white or silver dragon leather all for the low price of six galleons."

"So its a magical checkbook?"

"No need to check the book, it goes right to our central facility."

"No I mean..." Clover saw her Aunt's amused expression and decided against elaborating, "Never mind, I'll take one."

"It will be ready by the time you return to the surface."

Her Aunt had a proud smile on her face when she pulled a cloth bag off a hook on the wall and said, "Help me count out a hundred and twenty Galleons." Clover and Aunt Petunia made twelve small stacks of ten galleons before shoving the whole lot into the bag. Aunt Petunia tied the surprisingly light bag off on Clover's belt and they left the vault.

The ride wasn't any better on the way up. The cart hurtled along completely unawares of the dizziness it was inflicting on two of its passengers. Griphook escorted the dizzy pair to the marble lobby of Gringotts where another goblin was waiting with a stack of bank books in different colors. The goblin saw them and pushed its way through the crowed before throwing the books on the counter. "Pick the one you want, then sign your name in it with this." The goblin thrust a steely gray quill into Clover's hand.

Clover thought a moment and then picked the white bank book since it would match with almost anything. She flipped the book open and saw the blank for her name on the inside of the cover. She started writing and felt a burning pain in her right hand. She could see the first part of her name scratched out in blood on the back of her hand before the wound vanished. She wondered if the goblins just liked causing their customers pain before she gritted her teeth and finished writing her name as quickly as possible.

The goblin nodded in satisfaction and collected the rest of the draft books without a word before vanishing into the bank. Clover frowned at the goblin's back and stuffed her bank book into her pouch. She followed her Aunt Petunia back on to the street and excitedly asked, "Where now?"

**A/N:**

**And here is the first part of why the recent chapter of Danzo's team was late.**

**I decided to end this chapter a bit shorter than my normal chapter length of ten thousand words since this was the only decent break point that wasn't a cliffhanger before the end of the entire diagon ally trip. **

**I chose the name Harriet Clover Potter because Harriet kept it close to canon and Clover kept up the Evan's girls with flower names tradition.**

**No, Harriet does not speak 20+ languages, she just knows a few words/phrases in different languages. She can speak English and broken French.**

**I just went to the beach thus all of the ; breakpoints.**

**I have the rest of the shopping trip to Diagon Ally already finished so expect an update for this before the end of the week, after that updates will be intermittent since I plan to prioritize Danzo's Team. **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 : In which numerous unnecessarily details were given

"We might as well get your uniform." Aunt Petunia gestured to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Dear, I need to walk down to the public owlry on Horizont Ally to send a reply to your acceptance letter. So wait for me here if you get done before I'm back ok?" Clover assured her Aunt that she wouldn't explore the ally on her own even if it was incredibly interesting and walked into Madam Malkin's shop alone.

Madam Malkin's was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve. She saw Clover walk into the stored and asked, "Hogwarts dear?" She didn't even wait for Clover to reply before continuing, "Got the lot here - Another young lady being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a girl with beautiful eyes and long tresses of wavy bond hair. Clover felt a moment of irrational envy, why couldn't she ever get her hair to look like that? The moment of envy was followed by an intense desire to know if their was a such thing as magical hair care. The girl was standing on a footstool, thankfully unaware of Clover's thoughts while a second witch pinned up her long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Clover on a stool next to her, slipped a long robe over her head and began to pin it to the right length.

The girl gave her a soft smile and said, "Hello. Hogwarts too?"

Clover quashed another bout of jealousy and replied with a smile, "Yes."

"So what house do you think you are going to end up in?"

"Don't know."

"Well no one really knows until the sorting, but father expects me end up in Slytherin. On the other hand my little sister thinks I will end up in Ravenclaw since I read so much." The girl finally took a breath. "Did you know Merlin himself was in Slytherin?"

"No, I didn't realize Hogwarts was that old."

"It is, they say that Merlin was taught by Salazar Slytherin himself, though all of the other houses deny it. Father says that the other houses don't like Slytherin very much because they are jealous of our success. So what are you looking forward to at Hogwarts the most?"

Clover realized she didn't know enough about Hogwarts to really answer the question so she followed her uncle's advice and gave a really general answer, "Learning magic."

The girl was obviously not fooled. "Oh." Clover watched as the girls face ran through a vague sense of unease to hopelessness then determination. Clover was wondering if the girl had mood swings by the time she asked, "Are you here with your parents?"

"My aunt. My parents are dead."

"Oh." The girl winced and the conversation died awkwardly. The girl obviously worked up her courage again and asked, "Were your parents our sort?"

Clover felt out of her depth and vaguely annoyed but answered anyway, "They were a wizard and witch if that is what you mean. I grew up with my squib aunt."

Relief spread over the girls face. "I'm Daphne Greengrass. Its really nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

"Did you know that the Malfoy heir is going to attend Hogwarts this year too? They say that his family is the richest in England. He's a distant cousin of mine, I got to meet him once when father took me to a party at the Malfoy house before mother... I wonder if he will remember me. I can't wait to meet him again." A sudden horrified expression spread over Daphne's face, "Oh no, I'm talking to much, this always happens when I get to excited. Please don't let it turn you off, I'm normally not like this."

Madame Malkin's intervened before Clover had to come up to a response to Daphne's latest worry. "All done dear." Clover was grateful for the excuse to end the conversation before she embarrassed herself or Daphne had a mental breakdown.

Clover hopped down from the footstool and told Daphne, "See you at Hogwarts."

The girl smiled back, "I'll save you a seat on the train."

Clover had time to mouth, "Train?" before she saw Aunt Petunia sitting on a bench outside. Aunt Petunia waved when she saw clover and they set off together to the Slug and Jiggers Apothecary. The inside of the apothecary was interesting enough to make up for the rancid smell. Like old cabbage and rancid eggs mixed with a thousand other unpleasant things that Clover couldn't identify. The store was filled with thousands of vials and jars. Labels marked the inventory: stewed fairy wings six Sickles a spoonful, spinach muscle clams twelve Galleons a piece and fresh wigglewumps five knuts for vial.

Aunt Petunia collected a first years potion kit from the stack the store had laid out and let Clover pick out her own set of vials. After her aunt refused to let her get a diamond one she sullenly found a nice set of crystal ones that were charmed to be unbreakable. Aunt Petunia threw in a brass scale she saw on one of the shelves. They left the Apothecary a few galleons lighter.

Aunt Petunia insisted that their next stop was for a student's trunk since she didn't want to carry a dozen bags. Clover decided the trunk shop on Diagon Ally was to crowded so they found a smaller one called Charles Timber's Trunks on Vertic Ally. When they walked inside a lady who couldn't be older than fifteen greeted them with an enthusiastic, "Welcome!"

Clover looked at her aunt then said, "Hi, we're looking for a student trunk."

The saleswomen looked at her a moment before asking, "Hogwarts?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The girl started laughing and shouted into the back of the store, "Did you hear that dad? I'm a ma'am now."

A huge man in overalls with pieces of sawdust stumbled from the back of the store and muttered, "Not bloody likely." loud enough for everyone in the store to hear clearly. His daughter threw a book nearby the register at him. He ducked underneath the leather bound projectile then expertly turned his duck into a bow and said, "Welcome to my store. The student models are on the left wall. My daughter, Jane, will be happy to help you and explain our enchanting services."

They wandered over to the indicated wall and started looking through the trunks that were stacked till they reached the ceiling. Clover almost jumped when Jane's voice rang out behind her, "Know what house your going to be in?"

"No."

"Then stay away from the ones that are green or red. Don't want to end up with a trunk of the wrong color if you get caught up in the perennial Gryffindor Slytherin rivalry."

"What house are you in?"

"Never went to Hogwarts. My dad home schooled me so I could help him in the shop. But if I had gone, I would have probably ended up in Hufflepuff. I'm afraid I'm not very courageous or smart or ambitions, but everyone can work hard you know?"

Clover gave the girl a genuine smile. "I do." She resolved to find out more about Hufflepuff house. Jane helped her find a nice trunk of heavily stained wood and silver fastenings. Clover thought it looked grand, like the ancient furniture you saw in the palaces. Once she convinced her aunt that was really what she wanted Jane produced her wand and floated it out of the stack and over to the counter.

She trust a list into Clover's hands and gave another list to Aunt Petunia. "This is the enchantments we offer here. Ignore the ones without a price listed, those are only for custom jobs."

Clover stared at the list like it was in a strange language. Featherweight, shrinking and locking were obvious enough, but the rest had Clover thoroughly confused; what on earth did hopping mean? And who would want a casket conversion ability? Clover eventually gave up understanding and just decided to order what she understood, "Can I get featherweight and locking please?"

Jane smiled and said, "Yes, ma'am." As soon as Clover paid Jane turned to the back of the shop and shouted, "Dad!"

The huge man reappeared from the back a second later with an irritated expression on his face. Jane didn't give him a chance to complain. "These people need locking and featherweights on a number thirty six student."

"Follow me back to the workshop please, be done in just a moment." The trunk floated off the counter and vanished through a door in the back of the shop. Aunt Petunia nudged Clover and they followed a moment later. The workshop was impressive; it was a room twice as large as the shop itself covered in tools and planks of wood and more exotic materials. In the center of the shop was a huge spiraling staircase with carvings running up half of its length. The man noticed them staring and answered their unspoken question, "Goes in an expanded trunk for a lady at the ministry."

The trunk Clover had purchased came to a rest on a clear workbench nearby. The owner produced his wand and tapped the trunk in a dozen places while muttering spells over it. He looked over at Clover and said, "You have a wand yet, I need to key you to the security."

Clover gulped, "No, sir."

"Well we'll have to use a blood key then." He searched around the bench until he found a small needle. "Prick your finger with this here needle and then smear the blood on this silver plate and say your password clearly." He tapped the small silver plate where a lock would sit on a normal trunk. Clover wondered why every bit of magic seemed to involve her getting cut or poked or sliced. She handed the needle to her aunt and stuck out her hand before looking away.

Barely a moment later her Aunt jabbed the needled into her index finger. Clover winced and turned back around to see a bead of blood forming on top of the finger. She moved carefully so the drop didn't fall off her finger before she pressed it on the plate and said, "Narpas Sword." When she moved her finger it left a bloody finger print behind.

Then the metal started to hiss and the blood started smoking. A few seconds later the blood was gone and a copy of her fingerprint had been etched in the plate. The owner muttered a final few charms on the trunk and turned to her, "All you need to do to open it is tap the plate and say the password. Now why don't you try it out?"

Clover reached over and tentatively tapped the plate while saying the password. There was an audible click and the top of the trunk swung open. Emboldened Clover grabbed the trunk by the side and lifted it over her head easily. It couldn't weigh more than a pound or two. She gave the owner a big smile. "Awesome."

"Glad your happy." The owner gave them a cheap cart for free so they could wheel around the trunk. It might be light, but it was still awkward to carry otherwise. Aunt Petunia sat down the potion supplies in the trunk and to Clover's delight she couldn't feel a difference in the trunk's wait.

"Clover we have time for one more shop before lunch. What else is on your school list?" Clover wordlessly handed over the crumpled piece of parchment to her aunt. Aunt Petunia skipped past uniform and course books and read the list of other equipment. "Wand shopping takes a long time. We already have your vials. We should save getting a pet for last. That leaves a cauldron or a telescope."

"I saw a cauldron shop by the Leaky Cauldron."

"That can wait as well then. So a telescope." The walked until they found a store with great globes mapping out the various planets hurtling around the ceiling. The telescope section of the store was disappointingly tame compared to some of the other displays. One other section even had a giant apparatus with a hundred whistling pipes and spinning cogs that promised to distill captured moonbeams. Aunt Petunia wouldn't let her go anywhere near it out of fear that Clover would stick her hand somewhere it shouldn't go.

The found a small telescope and stand that matched the scales that they had bought earlier. Aunt Petunia let her splurge another five galleons on an extra lens that promised to let her see through cloud cover. After paying and stowing the telescope in the trunk they had a disappointingly mundane lunch at a small restaurant on Norm Ally.

After lunch they walked back to Diagon Ally and picked up the robes from Madame Malkin's. Clover stole the pointed witches hat out of the bag of clothes and pulled it over her head. Aunt Petunia couldn't help but start laughing when Clover asked, "Does it make me look dashing?" They both walked into Florish and Blotts with big smiles splattered across their faces.

Thousands of books covered the shop in odd vertical stacks where the owners had given up trying to shelve them all. Clover wandered through the store looking at the wondrous titles. She watched as a copy of the _Invisible Book of Invisibility_ vanished right before her eyes. Other books were full of strange silver symbols that she couldn't identify. She opened one book to find only blank pages that made her head hurt if she looked at them too long.

Her aunt called for her when she had just started to read _Magical Languages of the World_. She tucked the book under her arm to find Aunt Petunia waiting at the counter with a stack of school texts. After a few moments of arguing Aunt Petunia consented to buying the language book, but adamantly refused to get a book about magical trees that played music. Right before they checked out Aunt Petunia set a copy of _A Muggleborn's Guide to the Wizarding World_ on top of the stack. "Lily swore by it during her first few years at Hogwarts."

Clover circumspectly signed the mailing list for the Florish and Blotts catalog when her aunt wasn't looking. Clover convinced herself she was saving her Aunt Petunia the trouble of an argument she would eventually lose anyway and nodded firmly in satisfaction. They paid for the texts a moment later and stacked them carefully inside the trunk before walking out of the store.

The stationary supply store was right across the ally from Florish and Blotts. The most exciting thing in the store was one huge red quill sitting on a pillow under a glass case for six hundred galleons. Aunt Petunia wasn't interested in buying it; she loaded Clover down with a few heavy reams of paper and a pack of nondescript quills. After her aunt passed her ink in four different colors, Clover argued with her Aunt until they got a well of color changing ink even though it was 'terribly unprofessional.' Clover made a mental note to only write home in color changing ink out of spite.

After a quick respite at Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor, Aunt Petunia had Clover pull out the list again. She read through the list and said, "I guess you should go ahead and get a wand. I'll pick up your cauldron while you wait." Her aunt left her in front of a small shop with dusty windows and peeling gold leaf that read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A bell rung somewhere within the shop as Clover stepped inside. It was a tiny place. Clover sat on the store's single chair and waited. She looked at the thousands of narrow boxes that covered every surface of the store. The hairs on her neck started to stand up from the sheer ambient magic the store radiated.

"Good Afternoon." said a soft voice. Clover jumped out of the chair and whiped around to look at an old man with wide pale eyes that shimmered through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello sir."

"Yes, yes I thought I would be seeing you soon. Harriet Potter." Clover nodded dumbly. "You have your mother's face, but your father's hazel eyes and the classical potter hair. Though you have done a much better job of taming that hair than some of your predecessors."

"Thank you sir."

The old man didn't seem to notice her response and continued without pause, "It seems only yesterday your mother was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." Mr. Ollivander gave her a creepy smile and continued, "Your father on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander reached out and brushed her bangs aside revealing the small lightning bolt scar on her forhead and tapped it before she could flinch back. "And that's where... I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful, very powerful."

"You sold Voldemort's wand." Clover blurted out.

Mr. Ollivander flinched away as if stung. "We do not speak his name."

"Sorry sir."

"Yes, I sold the wand that you know who used to terrorize England until he met you that fateful night. Of course he wasn't always the dark lord. How could I have known that quiet young Tom Riddle could have become what he did?" Clover opened her mouth to apologize but the old man didn't give her an opening, "He was always so respectful. I knew he was marked out for great things you see. And I suppose I was right. He did do great thing, terrible yes, but great."

"Sir." The word hung in the air a moment, an unspoken apology and acceptance rolled into one.

The old man rallied and pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which arm is your wand arm?"

"I am right handed sir."

"Hold out your arm." Clover held out her arm with great trepidation more than a little worried that she would be bleeding again by the time she got a wand. The tape measure sprung from Mr. Ollivander's hand and began to measure Clover. Shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, then the length of each of her fingers and the width or her hand.

As the tape measured he rummaged through the boxes covering the walls of the shop. "Every Ollivander wand has the core of a powerful magical substance, Ms. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course you will never get such good results with another witches wand."

The tape measure was tightening around her waist when Mr. Ollivander called out, "That will do." The tape measure floated to Mr. Ollivander's desk and fell motionless. "Try this one Ms. Potter. Oak and the heartstrings of a welsh green. Nine inches. Very stiff. Just give it a wave." Clover took the wand from the old man's hands and gave it a wave. She dropped it with a startled cry when the wand banged like a gun.

"I think not." Mr. Ollivander collected the wand and handed her another, "Willow, fourteen inches. Unicorn hair, excellent for the more subtle charms. Go on try it out." Clover had hardly begun to move the wand when Mr. Ollivander yanked it from her hand. She tried another and another as a stack of tried wands mounted higher and higher on the counter of the shop. Clover was getting worried but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer...Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere-I wonder, now - yes, why not - unusual combination. Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Clover took the wand. It felt awkward in her hand, but a ray of golden sparks that cracked in the air shot from the end almost as soon as she clasped her hands around it. Mr. Ollivander frowned and said, "Give it a wave please." Clover flicked the wand in front of her producing another ray of sparks.

Mr. Ollivander rubbed his impressive beard and muttered, "How very curious..."

"Excuse me sir, but what is curious."

"You see that wand has indeed chosen you, but you have not chosen that wand. Most unusual. Most of your power is fluttering about instead of being focused properly."

"What does that mean sir?"

Ollivander shrugged and dismissed the question with false levity, "I'm not really sure." He frowned at the wand in Clover's hand and said, "I'm afraid that wand is the best match for you in my shop." His eyes widened with a sudden thought. "Unless...but I shouldn't."

"Shouldn't what sir?" Clover felt vaguely uneasy at the eager expression spreading across Mr. Ollivander's face, but the phoenix wand just felt wrong.

"I loathe to recommend it but your best option is a custom wand." Clover noted he didn't sound like he loathed it. He sounded more eager than ever. He sighed dramatically, like a small boy caught doing something unpleasant by his mother. "I must warn you, custom wands are not covered by the ministry's student wand subsidy, constructing one will be very expensive."

"You would have to discuss it with my Aunt sir."

"Yes...well would you like to come in the back an pick out the materials in case we can convince your aunt?"

Clover couldn't help it, she wanted too see what she would get. "Yes sir."

Mr. Ollivander held open the small door behind the counter for Clover. "Did you know that once all wands were once custom pieces? Then my father revolutionized the wand business you see; he developed the then novel idea that the wand chooses the wizard. Then he proved the idea by successfully matching wizards with preconstructed wands. Changed the whole game. Drove those that wouldn't change right out of business. You see, a perfectly matched preconstructed wand serves just as well as a custom wand for a fraction of the cost." He shook his head. "It has been a great boon to the business, but a terrible blow to the art."

The back of the shop was cramped. Thousands of drawers covered every available surface barely leaving enough room for a small workbench. Three great jars sat at in the free space making climbing over the desk the only way to reach the back of the room. Mr Ollivander didn't seem perturbed by climbing on the furniture. "There are three parts to every wand maker's career. First he is an apprentice, learning the craft from a master. When that master finds him satisfactory he becomes a journeyman and wanders the world looking for materials while refining his craft. Then he becomes a master and takes on apprentices of his own."

He gestured to the shelves, "This room holds the materials collected by sixty two generations of Ollivander journeymen. It is perhaps the greatest collection of wand materials in the world, and somewhere in the room are the materials that will become your wand."

Mr. Ollivander pulled what appeared to be a glove of woven silver out of one of the drawers and tossed it to Clover. "Put it on, it's a tool my sixteenth great uncle developed to help refine a witch's aura, making the selection of materials easier. It will also protect you against some of the … more harmful items." The glove felt more like silk than metal and reached her elbow. When she pulled it on the metal started to contract until it felt as though she was wearing a second skin.

When Clover looked up Mr. Ollivander had on a truly massive pair of brass glasses with a dozen different lenses set in wheels. "Hold your hand over each drawer for a second, start on the left side of the room. Wand bodies are easier to match than cores. She held the silver gloved hand over the rightmost drawer and Mr. Ollivander clicked his glasses, "No, No your not a fire type at all. Six rows over two down coral taken from an Atlantian grove before its destruction." Clover moved her hand over to the indicated shelf. "Two more rows over. One up, wood from the famous floating forest of North America."

"Most curious. Equal parts wind and water. What did you say your birthday was?"

"July thirty first sir."

"One row to the right, bottom most drawer." Clover bent over to the drawer and held her hand out front. "What are you waiting for open it." Clover felt foolish and quickly pulled a what appeared to be a piece of bone, dull brown with age. "Antler of a Japanese Sea King. Gathered by the younger sister of my twenty nine times great grandfather. A most curious species of eastern dragon that exhibits very few of the normal dragon properties. All extinct now of course."

Clover sat the strange antler on the small workbench and followed Mr. Ollivander to the other side of the room. "These shelves house the cores. Be extremely careful several are as deadly as they are valuable." He stared at the wall for a moment and said, "Lets start with phoenix. Twelve rows from the right, ten up from the bottom. Egyptian Blossom Phoenix." Clover held her hand over the drawer a moment and Mr. Ollivander clicked away at his glasses. "Hmm, that same strange reaction. Maybe a different type of phoenix. Four down one over, feathers of an Spartan Fishing Phoenix." Clover reached for the indicated box. "No, no not at all. But definitely an avian though. Back to the right, two down. Indian bird of wonder. Signifies kingly might."

"Closer, but I can do better. One up, go ahead and take it out." Clover pulled out a blue white feather, a small bolt of electricity danced along its length, startling her into dropping it. She reacted instinctively and grabbed the falling feather with both hands. She blacked out the instant her unshielded hand touched the feather, and hit the ground without ever realizing her mistake.

;

Clover woke up lying something very hard and cold. She opened her eyes and to her horror couldn't see anything. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and cursed herself for being so stupid before asking the black surrounding her, "Anyone there?" She felt very foolish waiting alone in the darkness.

She shivered and wrapped her hands around her chest to ward off the cold. A few moments later she hopped up and started walking, the floor was too cold to sit on. A soft light glimmered at the edge of her vision, barely visible through the gloom. Clover rubbed her eyes. The light was still there. She walked towards it and felt a smile spread across her face as the darkness around her dissipated and the cold became less biting.

She could see that the ground beneath her was rough stone sheet that occasionally dropped off into black holes Clover couldn't see the bottom of. She gave silent thanks for not falling in one of the holes while wandering around in the dark.

Their was an occasional dull rumbling sound that Clover thought might be wind through the mountain bluffs. She accelerated her pace, maybe that sound was the way out. The number of holes in the floor increased until their was little more than a narrow bridge suspended above the abyss.

Then the bridge rounded a sudden corner and Clover found the source of light. It was not the exit. The bridge joined the floor of a large round chamber, and in the center of that chamber roosted a bird larger than any animal Clover had ever seen. It had a cruel black beak and wicked claws which Clover was sure could rend her in two with little effort, but most unusual of all the bird was covered in softly glowing blue white feathers. Clover's breath caught at the sight, but the bird rumbled with another death breath and continued sleeping unawares of its guest.

Clover walked into the center of the room and around the bird but found no exit. After her futile search Clover stood in front of the massive bird and tried to shake the feeling that she was about to do something incredibly stupid. She took a deep breath and shouted, "Mr. Bird!"

The bird snapped its wings open and craned its long neck up to the ceiling of the chamber. Clover's breath caught as the air was filled with the hum of high voltage wires and the bird's four green pupiless eyes locked on her. Its beak opened and Clover saw rows of teeth inside of it. Her terrified mind couldn't help but wonder why a bird would have teeth before images crashed through her head.

A searing pain in her head drove Clover to her knees, but she couldn't break free of the bird's four eyed gaze. She ancient chiefs in leathers and furs kneeling where she was, offering sacrifice to their protector. She saw some bestowed with a blessing and others destroyed in a bolt of lightning. Their were no words, but some how the bird asked a question. Clover collected her thoughts the best she could and said, "I am lost."

Another series of images blasted through her head. A collection of a thousand different men lost in a thousand different ways and how they became found. She grabbed her forehead in pain and her hands came away bloody. She looked at them in horror a moment. Tears flowed from her eyes and she desperately screamed at the bird, "Help me!"

The four great green eyes blinked. A final painfully clear image floated through her eyes. A picture of her staring at her own reflection in dirty water that carried with it a question Clover couldn't understand much less answer. The bird blinked again. The images were suddenly gone.

The bird snaked its long neck towards the end of its wing and pulled loose a single pinion with its beak. Its neck reached out to Clover and hung unmoving a few feet from where she kneeled. Clover reached out and grabbed hold of the feather.

;

Clover woke to the sound of Aunt Petunia screaming. She moaned and touched her forehead. She almost cried in relief when her hand came away free of blood. Mr. Ollivander saw her move and desperately shouted, "She's awake!" over the noise.

Aunt Petunia bent over the small chair Clover was sitting in and said, "Are you alright honey?"

"Ugh, what happened."

Before Aunt Petunia could launch into another rant about unsafe business practices Mr. Ollivander replied. "You accidentally touched the pinion of an Alaskan Thunderbird and your aura went completely haywire before vanishing entirely. Imagine my fright when I thought I had made the girl who lived into a squib."

"I saw it, the thunder bird."

"Unusual. Such a strong reaction with a core. The last known thunder bird turned its lightning upon itself centuries ago. I wonder did you briefly pierce the veil? Maybe you were sent a vision through time instead...But then again it could all be a hallucination caused by the perfect synchronization..."

Clover ignored the old man's ramblings. "It wanted to help me...But we were so different..." There was a moment of awkward silence after Clover trailed off.

Mr. Ollivander couldn't be kept down for more than a minute though. "Well yes, among the screaming your Aunt and I came to an agreement about the custom wand. In exchange for not mentioning this little incident I'll only charge you for the labor required. I'm already eager to get started. Dragon horn and thunderbird pinion. What a wonder."

Aunt Petunia still sounded bitter when she asked, "So how long will it take to complete."

"Six months to distill the feather and carving the antler into a blank. Then the antler must be infused on with the essence of the feather over a year and a day that starts when the sky is filled with both Jupiter and Mars. Then a few proprietary steps in finishing the wand. Assuming no complications I should have the wand finished by the summer before your third year, Ms. Potter."

Their was another awkward pause as Aunt Petunia and Clover stared at Mr. Ollivander's ecstatic face. Clover finally broke the silence and irritably muttered, "I still need a wand."

Clover ended up leaving the shop with the holly and phoenix feather wand. Mr. Ollivander had given her a strong warning to not attempt to force excess magic through the wand accompanied by descriptions of what could go wrong. Clover thought the old man gave a rather horrifying level of detail.

The last stop on their shopping trip was Eeylops Owl Emporium. Clover found the hundreds of eyes looking at her from the darkness incredibly disconcerting after her recent experience with the thunderbird. She didn't want to stay in the place a moment longer than necessary and followed the Dursley method of impromptu decision making. She closed her eyes and pointed randomly.

Three minutes later she walked out of the store with a small snowy owl and a few items to help with caring for it. The trip had exhausted Clover and she ended up falling asleep against her Aunt's shoulder on the bus ride back to Surrey.

O O , o o .:/ o ,,/;, ,;/ o o)::::::;;/ ::::::::;;\\\ ''\\\\\'" ';\ ';\

**Author's Notes:**

**I thought about including the Draco scene, but decided to switch him out for Daphne. She is going to end up one of the more important characters in the fic along with hermione so I thought it would be best to go ahead and introduce her.**

**The shopping for trunks was fun to write.**

**Had fun with playing with the cannon street naming theme. Diagonally=Diagon Ally and Nocturnally= Knockturn Ally.**

**What happened to the hats they had to buy. They buy them in year one then they are never mentioned again for seven books. Seems a waste of money to me, thus Clover will wear the hat.**

**Ollivander gives away Tom's name early. He had to have known it, its not like the eleven year old Tom Riddle bought his name under the alias lord voldemort. Its a wonder no one bothered to ask him in canon.**

**My personal theory on the phoenix wands: They want to comfort the unhappy. Such as young Tom Riddle or canon Harry Potter. Three guesses why Clover who is a fairly normal child gets such a strange reaction from a phoenix wand. **

**The custom wand scene was too fun to write and Ollivander seems like the sort that would have an untrained child handling various dangerous ingredients. **

**I tried to write the Thunderbird as a sort of abomination. That scene was also fun to write and dropped a few hints to Clover.**

**Updates for this will be intermittent since I plan to prioritize Danzo's Team and Finals are coming up. Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: In which the main character doesn't meet an antagonist:

Aunt Petunia took the black witches hat off of her niece's head and stroked her black bangs out of her eyes. Clover opened her eyes a moment later and squinted at her Aunt. Aunt Petunia thought it was adorable, but resisted the urge to give her cute niece a hug long enough to say, "We're almost home Clover. I'll explain everything to Vernon, but please don't tell Dudley. I don't want-"

The bus came to an abrupt stop and the doors opened with a mechanical hiss, cutting Aunt Petunia off. She forced a smile on her face and said, "This is our stop, I'll help you getting the trunk down the stairs." They half walked half tumbled out of the bus while the driver looked on with an amused expression plastered all over his face. The pair learned the hard way that while the featherweight enchantment made the trunk weigh almost nothing, a trunk is still an awkward item for a small girl to carry in confined spaces even with her aunt's help. Clover sighed in relief when she managed to sit the trunk on the sidewalk and the bus sped off into the evening.

Aunt Petunia unfolded the cart with a metallic click and Clover lifted the trunk onto it. They then set the owl's cage on top of the contraption and pulled it down the sidewalk. It was a pleasant afternoon and a gentle breeze broke the worst of the summer heat, leaving it just the right temperature for the pair to enjoy the brief walk back to Four Privet Drive.

Uncle Vernon saw them almost as soon as they were in the door. Almost at once he shouted up the stairs, "Dudley! Come help unload."

Dudley was not overly enthusiastic to help, but he ambled down the stairs just as Clover was starting up them. He reached for the trunk, but Aunt Petunia called out before he grabbed a hold of the trunk, "Leave her be. She needs to be able to carry it herself."

Uncle Vernon gave Aunt Petunia a strange look, but didn't comment. Their was an awkward quiet in the living room while Clover trudged up the stairs. Finally Dudley noticed the cage Aunt Petunia was holding and said, "Is that an owl?"

Aunt Petunia smiled and repeated the story her parents had told the neighbors when Lily had first started at Hogwarts. She gave her son a big smile and said, "Yes. Hogwarts students are taught how to use birds to carry messages. Its a school tradition from the old days."

"Wow, that's so cool." Dudley poked the bars of the cage and asked, "What's its name?"

"I don't know if Clover has come up with one yet, you will have to ask her." Aunt Petunia deposited the owl cage on the counter and made her way into the kitchen. The shopping trip had taken almost all day, she would have to make something quick for dinner. When she turned back around the owl cage had vanished and she caught sight of Clover's back as she ran up the stairs. An automatic,"No running in the house young lady!" chased her niece the rest of the way up.

Clover didn't reappear, but a faint, "Yes, Aunt Petunia." echoed back down to her. She sighed and decided against asking Clover to help, the girl would without a doubt be going through her supplies like a madwomen.

;

A few day's later Clover woke with a grin. It was her birthday. She grabbed her glasses off of the bedside table and slipped out of bed only to almost trip over a large package wrapped in plaid paper sitting on the floor of her room. A note was taped to the top of it. Clover sat on the edge of her bed and yanked the note from the present. It read:

You have a gift, don't let the nonsense get to you. And don't bring the present down.

-Your Aunt and Uncle

Clover tore open the wrapping paper to find what appeared to be a bundle of piano keys wrapped together with a golden cord. She stared at it a moment then an excited smile spread over her face. She slipped the cord off of the bundle and the keys took flight. They came together in a hovering keyboard at just the right distance away from her. Then to her amazement three pedals appeared on the floor below her and a guide fell into her lap. The guide was hand written with small understated script that pronounced the keyboard a Model IV Packable Piano part of the traveling orchestra collection.

She struck the middle C lightly and the note filled the room around her from no discernible source. It wasn't bad, but it was a bit disconcerting for someone used to playing on a real piano. After a few more experimental taps Clover converted the piano back to its storage mode with a tap of her wand and headed downstairs.

More presents were stacked up on the dinning room table, but Aunt Petunia wouldn't let her anywhere near them until she sat down and had some breakfast. Clover gulped down a glass of milk and hastily ate the eggs and toast her aunt had laid on her plate before breathlessly placing her plate on the counter and proclaiming, "Done!"

Dudley was walking down the stairs when the unwrapping began in earnest. The present on the top of the stack was from Aunt Marge who had sent her a bow in every color of the rainbow plus black and white. Dudley thrust a small box wrapped in sliver paper into her hands. She struggled with the paper a moment revealing a small red jewelry box with a silver charm bracelet inside.

Clover smiled and hugged her cousin with an enthusiastic, "Thanks Dudley!"

"Had to find something as cool as those gloves."

The comment drew another beaming smile from Clover, then she dove back into the pile of presents. She received a few toys and a dozen things she would need at a boarding school, until a single present with white paper and a black silk ribbon was all that remained of the presents. She carefully untied and rolled up the ribbon, rationalizing that it was long enough to use in an outfit, then tore the paper apart.

The last present was a white dress with blue cuffs and a bright red bow over the chest. Clove touched it with a bit of awe, it was a lot nicer than the overdone stuffy dresses she got shoved into when the Dursleys decided to go to church. Clover fell in love with it and rushed over to give her aunt and uncle giant hugs. After she was satisfied that they were properly thanked she ran upstairs and changed into the dress.

The dress had two parts to it, a sleeveless white piece that was trimmed in blue and a short jacket with sleeves which had matching blue cuffs. The Jacket didn't have any clasps besides a big red bow that sat about three inches below the collar and covered most of her chest. She dug a pair of white shoes out of her closet to complete the ensemble and walked down the stairs with small dainty steps.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Dursley sat at the table and watched as she paraded around the room like a princess. After a final lap around the house Uncle Vernon stood and said, "I'm glad you like it. Now you will have something to wear tonight." Clover froze and waited to see if her aunt and uncle had taken her subtle hints about an appropriate celebration. "You will have something to wear when we eat at York's." Clover shouted in delight.

Zoo's were well and good, but for the lady that Clover imagined herself to be nothing less than fine dinning would suffice. The day passed in a quick haze of anticipation as Clover read her schoolbooks quietly, unwilling to risk her precious dress through more vigorous activity, but also unwilling to take the dress off.

York's was a small establishment that catered almost exclusively to a business crowd. Uncle Vernon brought customer's there often and warned Dudley and Clover before they got out of the car he would broke no foolishness. The walked through York's unassuming front door and found an establishment that had forgone the normal romantic dim for brightly light accommodations of white cloth, fine wood and steel.

However the strange juxtaposition of old and new effects didn't seem strange to Clover. To her the whole place took on a wondrous air which seemed new and wonderful. She was all smiles as the host lead them to their reserved table. Moments later a busboy appeared to take their drink orders and deposit a blow of bread on the table.

Dudley and Clover ordered soda's while the adults decided to split a bottle of wine. The four of them made small talk while idly eating the bread. The waiter arrived with their drinks in to and to Clover's delight she had been given a real glass. She detested it when she was given a kiddy glass with a plastic straw like she was four years old, or even worse when the waiter asked her Aunt or Uncle whether to bring her a real glass or not, as though Clover wasn't there.

Uncle Vernon had several glasses of a red wine so dark that Clover couldn't see through his glass. His cheeks were rosy by the time waiters appeared to serve their food. A plate of what Clover hoped was crab cakes was place in front of her. She had ordered crab cakes after all, but the waiter had delivered a small tower of something indeterminable covered in a dull yellow sauce with small red shavings of pepper on top.

Clover eventually worked up her courage and took a bite only to find that she had indeed received crab cakes. She wasn't sure why the cook had felt the need to stack them into a tower, but the result was delicious. They stayed at their table for hours talking about a number of subjects until they were finally tired and Aunt Petunia drove them home.

;

Clover spent the last month of her summer vacation in a sort of haze. She became a bit of a shut in, spending her days pouring over her schoolbooks with a vigor she had never displayed before. When her Aunt Petunia finally broke down and told her to go outside and play like a normal child she did so with only the greatest reluctance. While playing games with the other kid in the neighborhood she was always distracted; she had already learned a few simple spells and was always caught up in trying to understand the next one.

During that month the only thing that manged to command Clover's full attention was the young snowy owl she had bought at Diagon Alley. She had decided to call the owl Hedwig after a famous German witch. Hedwig had an excellent personality for an owl and got along with the family except for Uncle Vernon. He had been the first to discover Hedwig's offering of a dead mouse, and she had never quite forgiven him for calling her a winged rat. The rest of the family found the whole affair hilarious and spoiled Hedwig shamelessly.

Then the first of September came and Clover loaded her trunk into Uncle Vernon's car. Aunt Petunia offered to drive under the excuse of giving Uncle Vernon and Dudley and opportunity for some Father Son bonding. Clover carefully closed an irritated Hedwig in her cage before placing it on the floorboard of the car and said her goodbyes.

Uncle Vernon went first with a strong hug and whispered, "I'm not sure about all of this magic nonsense, but you do us proud." Then a bittersweet smile spread over his face and he continued loudly, "We love you."

Dudley wasn't one for displays emotions and hugged her at arms length, but his face was twisted up with genuine grief at the prospect of not seeing her for nine months. She tearfully wished him luck at Smeltings and piled into the car. Hedwig gave an uncomfortable hoot and they were off towards King's Cross station.

:

Daphne Greengrass stood quietly outside of her father's office already dressed in her Hogwarts robes. She played with the Hogwarts crest emblazoned on the breast of the robe while she waited. She knew it would be the snake of her house soon enough; just like her father.

She heard her fathers deep voice boom out from the office. "Come in Daphne." Daphne jerked her hand away from her chest, then spent a second straightening her robes before walking into her fathers study. As soon as she walked through the heavy wooden door the mingled smell of old books and fresh parchment washed over her. Books taken from the family library lay in careless stacks across the room. In the small nooks not covered with books rested valuable curious that her father had collected traveling across the world in his youth. In the center of the room stood her fathers oversized desk where he sat furiously scribbling on a piece of parchment. There were no seats in front of the desk.

He did not look up when Daphne came to a stop in front of his desk. A smile crept over her face and Daphne half said half cheered, "I'm packed for Hogwarts."

His scribbling stopped and he scolded, "Once again with proper decorum."

Daphne forced her voice into a more steady sober tone and said, "I am prepared to travel to Hogwarts father."

"Have you talked to your younger sister?"

"Yes father."

At her confirmation he began to give her instructions. "See to it that you do not tarnish our family honor with any unseemly actions." He looked up and met her eyes with a small frown. She kept her face stern as he looked up at her from his work. Finally he nodded in satisfaction and began to stack the loose parchment on his desk. She stood there quietly until he spoke up again, "Agents of mine have determined that Dumbledore plans to move an object of great value to Hogwarts for safekeeping this year. You are to determine the nature of this object and report to me through your mirror; you are not to entrust any meaningful information to the owl post." He paused as though considering something then continued, "The potter heir will be attending school this year, place her in your debt if possible."

As her father continued to outline her goals for the year Daphne felt a pride swell up in her chest until she could barely speak up when he demanded if she was listening. She assured him that she understood and he said a few final words. "Blink will take you to the platform." He frowned at an empty spot on the floor then commanded a bit louder, "Blink."

The eldest of the Greengrass family house elves appeared where he was frowning with a small crack. Daphne though the house elf was a wretched little beast. It's back was hunched over and its spotted skin hung loosely around the its uniform. Daphne had a moment to look at its twisted yellow teeth when it opened it mouth to ask, "Master called?"

If its appearance bothered her father he didn't show it in the slightest. He was already back at his work and absently instructed, "Take that girl and her luggage to platform nine and three quarters. Follow any instructions she may have, and return once the train leaves the station."

The elf said, "Come along mistress." before reaching up and grabbing her wrist.

Daphne barely had time to say, "Goodbye Father." before the study vanished in swirl of color.

;

Clover jogged into what her Aunt insisted was not a brick wall. She was sure her Aunt meant well, but she couldn't quite shake the feeling that she was the subject of some horribly convoluted joke. Then she hit the barrier and to her great delight did not become a smear on the brickwork. She came out on platform nine and three quarters where a great scarlet steam engine was waiting form her. A metal sign hung near the engine, reading Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock.

Clover looked back and saw the an iron archway where the barrier had been. The her Aunt was in the archway with a faint wistful smile on her face. They stood on the platform quietly a moment watching the rush of people crowding about the train. Some dressed normally and others had strange and unwholesome combinations of clothes and colors which made Clover wince when she picked one out. Finally a few had forgone normal fashion altogether, and wore a variety of robes in strange cuts and designs. Clover had just made a mental note to find out more about magical fashions if at all possible, when the Hogwarts express blew its whistle.

Aunt Petunia looked at her watch and proclaimed, "Five minute warning, you should find a compartment."

Clover had been looking forward to going to Hogwarts, but all of a sudden she felt terrible about leaving her Aunt behind. She couldn't imagine Aunt Petunia getting left alone with Dudley and Uncle Vernon. The poor women would go insane.

A pair of firm arms wrapped around Clover in a great hug and her Aunt had a bit of a sob in her voice. "You've grown up so much. Its just like Lils."

Clover had to gasp for breath as her Aunt attempted to squeeze the life out of her, but the hug had banished her worries. Her face was a big smile when she said, "Bye Auntie. I'll write you." Clover quickly pulled her cart off of the platform, and by the time she looked back Aunt Petunia had already vanished into the crowd.

The first few cars of the train were packed with students so Clover pressed on through the crowd until she finally found an empty compartment near the very back of the train. Clover stowed Hedwig first, who was very unhappy about being stuck in a cage on a noisy platform and was not afraid to express that unhappiness through all manner of hoots and barks. Clover attempted to hush the owl with a few soothing words, "Don't worry Hedwig, the train will be quieter and I'll let you out once we get to Hogwarts." Hedwig gave her a very dirty look through the bars of the cage then turned away in a huff.

Clover suppressed a giggle at her owl's antics and rushed back to get her trunk. On her first effort to lift the trunk up the train cars stairs Clover discovered something. The featherweight enchantment, lifesaver that it was, couldn't overcome the fact that a trunk was meant to be carried by someone much larger than her. She managed to get the trunk half way through the train door before a pair of red headed twins appeared from inside the train. The one of the left asked, "Could it be Fred?"

"I think it is George."

Clover felt a sudden surge of dread, she had hoped to at least get on the train before her fame got her into trouble. Her aunt had helped her carefully cover her scar in makeup until it was barely visible. Then her thoughts came to a crashing halt when the one named George asked, "Are you a damsel in distress?"

"A honey in hardship-"

"A cutey caught in catastrophe-"

"I think she is Fred."

"I think your right George."

"Do you think we should?"

"Yes I do."

They both chorused, "What we mean to ask is would you like help?"

Clover managed to stifle her laughter long enough to say, "Yes, please." The twins made a great show of rolling up their sleeves and bending down. Then they heaved the trunk through the door and right over their heads. The two boys ended up in a pile on the floor with her trunk lying victoriously on top. Clovers giggle turned into an outright laugh as Fred and George groaned.

"Fred I do believe-"

"We've been had."

"New talent-"

"Should be a fun year."

The pair broke out in huge grins and pulled themselves off the floor. Clover knew there was some sort of misunderstanding, but didn't bother to correct their assumptions; she was laughing to hard. The boys performed a synchronized turn and bowed before her. "Greetings young one."

"We are the Weasley twins."

"Forge and Gred."

"We will be in touch."

They spun in turn and stalked off the train. The final whistle had blown and the conductor had begun to close the train doors by the time Clover managed to collect herself enough to tuck her trunk away in the corner of her compartment. Clover looked out the window and watched the waving crowd as the train's whistle blew again and the engine made a great chugging sound. The train began to move and the cheers from the platform grew. Younger siblings chased the train with smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes until the train outran them.

Then the platform disappeared as the train rounded a corner. Clover felt a strange sensation overcome her. She was terribly excited about going to Hogwarts, but at the same time...she really missed her Aunt. Her vision was a bit blurry with tears as she kept staring out the window.

Then the door of the compartment slid open and she hastily wiped her eyes. When she turned around a young red headed boy with dirt on his nose was standing in the door awkwardly. He obviously worked up his courage and asked, "Anyone sitting there?" while pointing at the seat opposite Clover.

Clover shook her head and told the boy that the seat was fee. She wished she hadn't when the boy dragged his trunk into the compartment, making enough racket to wake the dead. She had her hands covering her ears against the awful noise by the time he finally had his trunk stowed. He looked up at her and awkwardly mumbled, "Sorry."

She forced a small smile onto her face and politely said, "No problem." She decided against looking out the window again, so she dug her copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ out of her carry bag and tried to distract herself.

The attempt was short lived. She had just begun to read the section on the different methods of cutting an ingredient when the read headed twins from earlier opened the compartment door. When they looked inside and saw her a flicker of surprise crossed their faces. Clover was fairly sure that Fred spoke first in a deep hissing voice, "You..."

George continued with a bright and sunny voice, "Have you come to entrance our dearest brother with your feminine wiles."

"I wish we could entrance people with our feminine wiles George."

"You never know Fred."

"Really Fred?" Clover felt her eyebrow tick at the name switch. She closed her book with and couldn't help but play along.

"You have it all wrong. I was beset by a dangerous beast and sir dirty nose the noble came and freed me from my horrifying confinement."

The twins brother looked at her like she had gone crazy and started a protesting, but George cut him off. "So sir black beak-"

"Sir soiled snout-"

"Polluted pecker-"

Fred looked at his brother strangely a moment before finally saying, "Umm, George that one doesn't mean nose."

"Oh."

"Still true though."

"Our dearest brother rescued you from so horrible unknowable fate?"

Clover's laughter redoubled when Ron finally broke into the conversation, "I didn't save her from anything. I just sat down!"

"He's just humble."

All three spoke at once in sagely voices, "I see." They nodded as one while Ron looked on horrified.

Finally one of the twins remembered why the had entered the compartment in the first place. "Hey Ron, you know how we promised Mom to look out for you?" He nodded dumbly. "Well instead of doing that we're going to go look at the giant tarantula that Lee Jordan snuck on board."

Fred looked over at her and smiled, "Your evilness is welcome to come."

Clover turned them down. She wasn't comfortable leaving her trunk and Hedwig behind, and besides she thought spiders were disgusting. The twins left the compartment when she shook her head and closed the door behind them. The twins brother, Ron, looked at her warily and asked, "So you know Fred and George."

She opened her book again, but didn't start reading. "They helped me load my trunk. I'm a first year."

"Me too!" Being near another first year seemed to cheer Ron immensely and he went on to tell her all about his older brothers. The elder Weasley's had jobs that sounded so exciting. Bill was an apprentice curse breaker for Gringotts bank. The way Ron told it a Gringotts curse breaker was basically a treasure hunter. Bill would be constantly traveling the globe and infiltrating the tombs of ancient wizards for precious artifacts. The second Weasley child, Ron was apparently the sixth, was Charlie. He raised dragons for a living. As in giant dangerous fire breathing reptiles.

When Ron glumly complained about having so many cool other brothers she thought he probably had a point, but wasn't about to admit it. Instead she cheered him up that he would probably stand out in a way that no one, least of all him expected.

He didn't really accept her comment, but was polite enough to agree. Then Ron introduced his pet Scabbers. When Ron pulled Scabbers out of his pocket Hedwig abruptly turned around in her cage and looked at the sleeping rat for a few seconds before turning her beak up and deciding that he wasn't a worthwhile meal. Clover had to stifle a laugh at her owl's antics while Ron held the fat rat protectively.

After that the conversation sort of fell apart as Ron stared out the window where fields full of cows and sheep were drifting by. Clover returned to her book. According to the author improper cutting techniques were one of the biggest reasons of potion failure. To a potions master cut meant something very different from chop or slice and they expected someone brewing their potions to understand the differences. It was interesting enough to keep her occupied until the food cart rolled by even though she didn't understand why cutting something a different way would be so important.

A smiling dimpled women slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart dears?" Clover sat her book down and walked out into the hall, but Ron's ears went pink and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. That gave Clover a bit of pause as she wondered why Aunt Petunia hadn't thought to pack her anything, but she supposed her aunt hadn't known how long the train ride was.

After reading the list of candies she felt an almost overpowering urge to try everything on the menu, but a glance back at where Ron was taking out a lumpy package convinced her to suppress it. Plus Aunt Petunia would be furious if she ate candy instead of a real meal. Clover ended up getting ham and swiss sandwich along with a can of apple juice. The meal cost nine sickles and three knuts which she had to run back in the room to retrieve from her bag.

The ham and swiss sandwich was packaged in a little box that reminded Clover of aluminum foil. Their was a small label on top of the package which read: Everywhere Eats! Below was a small set of instructions.

Clover pulled the top of the package off like the instructions told her too and found to her great delight that the sandwich was pipping hot with little wisps of steam coming up from it. The sandwich was cut into fourths and toasted heavily. Clover picked up one of the quarters and took a bite, then another. By the time she was one the second piece of the sandwich she was thirsty enough to turn to her can of apple juice.

The can was disappointingly mundane compared to the sandwich. It was a light green and had a small portrait of a plantation owner working his apple grove on the can. Clover got over her disappointment almost immediately, the can might be mundane but the apple juice was cold and fresh. Clover looked back at the can and almost dropped it in shock. "He moved!"

"Well you can't expect him to be still all the time." Clover nodded numbly. This was the wizarding world after all, she should have expected it.

By the time she had finished her sandwich the countryside beyond the window was getting wilder. The neat fields had been replaced with woods. Clover thought she might have seen a deer running alongside the train at one point. Then a knock came at the door and a round faced boy came inside.

"Sorry, but I've lost my toad. Have you seen it at all?"

When they shook their heads he slumped. Clover felt awful for him so she stood up and said, "I'll help you find him."

She packed her book away in her carry bag and slung it over her shoulder before turning and giving Ron a pointed look. He gave her a strange look back, but eventually sighed and stood up as well. The two of them followed the distressed boy out of the compartment. In his half panicked ramblings they learned that the boy was named Neville and they were looking for his pet toad Trevor.

After the third compartment of people looking at her like she was stupid when she asked them if they had seen a toad she had had her fill. "There has to be a magic way to find your toad. Lets go ask some older students."

"We could ask a prefect for help." Ron immediately added. Clover froze and had to ask what exactly a prefect's responsibilities were. What she got was a tirade about Ron's older brother Percy and his sordid love affair with a piece of jewelry. When Ron finally got to the point she wasn't sure if she should hug him for suggesting it or scold him for not thinking of it sooner.

They escorted Neville to the prefects compartment at the very front of the train. There they were met by another member of the apparently never ending Weasley family who did not look happy to see them. The older redheads tone was just shy of rude when asked, "What do you need Ron."

Clover intervened before the apparent sibling animosity took control. She pointed at where the shy boy was standing behind her and said, "Neville has lost his toad. We were hoping that one of the prefects could help him."

Percy looked a bit put off, but turned to Neville and asked in what Clover assumed was his 'nice' voice, "What is your pets name?"

Neville stammered out, "Trevor."

Percy produced his wand from his pocket and flicked it in a strange pattern before saying, _"Accio Trevor the toad."_ The waited for a moment and nothing happened. Then Ron started snickering just in time to be hit in the side of the head by a toad.

Neville grabbed it and shouted, "Trevor!"

Clover saw the faint smile on Percy's face and wondered if he had hit his brother with the toad on purpose. Her suspicions were redoubled when Percy said, "See to it that you do not loose it again. I would hate for someone to get hit by a flying toad." He paused a moment then said, "You should go ahead and change, we will be arriving within the hour."

Using the ancient and noble prerogatives granted to her by being female, Clover made Ron stand guard out in the hall while she changed into her robes. She hadn't known they would have to change on the train and had to pull a set of robes out of her tightly packed trunk. She squeezed the blouse and skirt she had been wearing into the gap the robes had left and forced the trunk lid closed.

She had a start when the tie decided to start tying itself the moment she hung it around her neck. Once the tie had stopped moving she shook herself and pulled the dark gray sweater over her head and quickly wrapped the long robes about her. She paused a moment then fetched her black witches hat from the carry sack and pulled it low over her head. She wished she had a mirror but there was nothing for it.

She let Ron back in the compartment and stood guard outside while he through his uniform on. He had just finished when a voice echoed through the train, "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Hedwig made a small barking noise at the announcement, which brought Clover over to the cage. "Sorry Hedwig. I'm sure they will let you out soon." Hedwig did not look satisfied. She ruffled her wings up and made a noise that Clover almost mistook for a huff. Clover fumbled for an excuse but finally decided on outright bribery. "How about this. I'll give you three owl treats tonight for being such a good girl on this trip?"

Hedwig was not amused.

"How about I nick you some bacon?"

Clover had to stifle a giggle at the owl's sudden look of interest. Moments later the train came to a stop in a small station just outside of a village with small twisting roads and slanted chimneys. It was obviously not a normal town.

At last the train gave a final whistle and the train car doors came open. Clover was one of the first to step off in the train into the brisk air. A cold wind blew about them as they milled about outside the train and Clover felt excitement slowly coming over her. She wanted to laugh and shout. She was about to learn magic.

**A/N General:**

** Sorry to those looking for an update to Danzo's team. It's at about 8k words at the moment and definitely won't be put up before next weekend. I'm honestly not sure if it will be put up then either. Next week is dead week and the week after that is finals and I care a great deal more about school than writing. **

** I've decided to ignore my normal rule of 10k chapters for the story since I update it much less often than I update Danzo's team. Also since I do plan to split this story into year segments publishing 10k chapters would probably lead to 7 chapter stories.**

** I plan to work some elements of MGLN into this story.**

**A/N Chapter:**

** Draco doesn't show up looking for Harriet because Fred and George never noticed her scar. Because of the way the twins were acting Ron never bothered to ask her name, and Neville was distraught over Trevor pulling a runner. Thus, our dear heroine arrives to Hogwarts unnoticed.**

** I have always wondered why the express food cart only carries candy. Clover is not a starved orphan, and thus is sensible enough to not buy a bunch of junk food. Plus it was an opportunity to make stuff up.**

** I'm honestly unsure how much to involved Ron in this fic. I don't hate his character, but I'm not sure how well it will go with what I have planned. Oh well we will see. **

** When I was eleven I hated it when people asked if I would like a child's cup. **


	4. Chapter 4

A cheery but powerful voice cut through the general chatter, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Clover picked out the largest man she had ever seen towering a good half meter over the crowed. He had a giant black beard and wore a strange coat with too many pockets. Clover followed in Ron's wake as he pushed through the crowd towards the giant man.

Others, presumably first years, started pushing towards the man also until a small crowd of kids had gathered about him. The man looked around mumbling something to himself for a moment then called out again, "C'mon follow me - Any more firs' years? Mind yer step now! Firs' years follow me!" The crowed followed the giant man away from the train station down a steep narrow path. The path quickly lead them into the woods where thick trees blocked out the light. Nobody spoke much as they walked though the boy who had lost his toad, Neville rushed over to join them with a wave when he saw them. The giant of a man came to a stop bringing the group to a halt and said, "Yeh'll get your firs' sight of Hogwarts in a sec. It's jus' around the bend here."

The group started moving again as the path opened onto the edge of a black lake. The first years broke the silence with a dozen sudden deep breaths and even more startled shouts. Across the lake perched on a mountain was Hogwarts. Clover was struck dumb by the shear size of the castle, it was much larger than the ruins that Aunt Petunia had dragged Dudley and her to for that third grade history project.

She couldn't help but stare at it open mouthed until Ron nudged her and pointed at the small fleet of little wooden boots sitting at the shore which others were already loading into. The giant of a man leading them shouted out, "No more than four to a boat!"

Clover picked out a boat on the edge of the little armada and was quickly joined by Ron and Neville. A moment later a bushy haired girl came over and asked, "Can I please join you?"

Clover nodded while Ron and Neville greeted her a bit more enthusiastically. The girl stepped into the boat nervously and sat down. Clover had to stifle a laugh seconds later when the girl introduced herself as Hermoine and then told Ron he had dirt on his nose.

A moment later the giant who Ron had identified as Hogwarts groundskeeper, Hagrid, queried, "Everyone in?" When no one responded he stepped into a boat by himself and shouted, "Right then - Forward!"

The boats left the shore all at once, quietly floating across the lake with no obvious method of propulsion. The conversation between Ron, Neville and the bushy haired girl who had introduced herself and Hermoine died off as they stared up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

A sudden cry of, "Heads Down!" startled Clover and she jerked around so fast she would have fallen out of the boat if not for Neville grabbing hold of her shoulder. Clover blushed and offered a quick thanks before both of them had to duck beneath a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel which seemed to take them right underneath the castle. Clover's eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly and she was almost able to make out the ceiling of tunnel when they came to a sort of underground harbor where the boats came to a rest.

The first years clamored out onto a rough beach of rocks and pebbles. Hagrid produced an already lit lamp from his boat and called out, "This way!" to the group. They followed him through a crack in the rock where a stone staircase had been cut. At the end of the passageway they came out onto a well cut lawn in the shadow of the castle. Clover was shocked to see how late it had become in what had seemed a quick journey across the lake. Hagrid lead the group across the lawn and up a flight of stone steps where they all crowded around the castles huge oak front door.

Hagrid turned about and asked the group, "Everyone here?" When no one responded he raised his huge fist and knocked three times on the castle door. It was one of the loudest noises Clover had ever heard, like what Clover imagined a cannon would sound like. At the third knock the door swung open silently. Inside stood a tall witch with emerald-green robes that had her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Clover knew immediately that the women was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid announced. Clover wondered for a moment where she had heard that name before; then she thought back to her acceptance letter and identified the women as the deputy headmistress. Clover thought she looked the part. The women pulled the door wide after thanking Hagrid and the students followed her into the entrance hall.

The hall was enormous you could have fit the whole of her house in it. The hall was lit with torches that somehow gave off far more light than they should have, leaving the entire hall brightly lit. Clover could hear the low mumble of hundreds of voices speaking at once from a huge pair of doors off of the hall and realized that the rest of the school must have already arrived. Professor McGonagall showed them into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They had to crowd together to fit in the small room, but no one was willing to complain.

McGonagall held up her wand and waited for the first years to fall silent before speaking. "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches in wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few moments in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while your waiting." She stared at the smudge on Ron's nose a second then finished, "I shall return when they are ready for you."

Ron broke the silence first, "So what house are you hoping for. I hope I'm going to be a Gryffindor, that's where all of my brothers went."

There was an awkward pause, then Hermoine spoke in a rush, "I hope I'm going to be in Gryffindor too, it seems to be the best by far, but Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad." Clover heard someone in the crowd snort at that remark and mentally agreed; Gryffindor was the one house she had no interest in.

Clover was nervous, but Neville looked like a wreck. So when Ron started badgering the boy about his favorite and Neville gave her a pleading look she spoke up in a soft voice. "I hope I'm sorted into Hufflepuff, but wouldn't mind Slytherin."

One of the people listening in on the conversation started coughing at that remark and Ron looked at her like she was insane. A few seconds later he recovered enough to ask, "Er, why mate?"

Clover wondered when she had become a 'mate', but answered anyway. "Hufflepuff's values are hard work and loyalty, I think those things are worthwhile."

Ron slowly nodded as though he was talking with a madman. Clover resisted the urge to sigh, her muggleborn guide had mentioned that some disdained Hufflepuff house, but she hadn't expected it to be so widespread. Ron finally asked, "And Slytherin? You know there isn't a wizard who's gone bad who wasn't in Slytherin."

A boy with hair so blonde it was almost white called out from the crowd, "Oh, please."

Clover wondered why so many people were listening in on a conversation that didn't concern them, but spoke up anyway. "Wasn't Merlin a Slytherin?" She watched Ron stutter as his face went red and made a mental note to thank the girl with pretty eyes she had met in Madame Malkin's for that tidbit.

Clover saw Hermoine open her mouth then freeze. Behind them a few people screamed. Clover turned around and gasped. So did all the people around her. About twenty ghosts had just floated through the back wall. The specters were a pearly white and slightly transparent. They glided about near the ceiling hardly noticing the students below. After recovering from her shock, Clover enjoyed their argument and wondered who Peeves was and how he could be 'not really a ghost.'

Unfortunately one ghost wearing a ruff and tights suddenly noticed the first years looking up at him from below and demanded to know who they were. Nobody answered. Another ghost, this one squat and fat with a comforting face answered a second later with a cheerful shout of, "New Students!" The ghost swooped down to where McGonagall had been standing previously and introduced himself as the Fat Friar and the house ghost of Hufflepuff.

"Come along now. It is time for the sorting." Clover craned about to see that Professor McGonagall had returned. Clove turned back around in time to watch the last of the ghosts float through the wall back to wherever they had come from.

"Form a line." Professor McGonagall waited with exaggerated patience as the students rushed to obey her order. When she was satisfied with the makeshift line she announced, "Follow me." and walked back into the entrance hall. She lead the group through the pair of doors Clover had noticed earlier into the great hall.

The hall was lit by thousands of candles floating in the air, which like the torches in the hall provided far more light than they should have. Below the candles were four long tables where the students were sitting draped in what Clover assumed was the colors of their house. At the top of the hall was another table on a raised dais perpendicular with the other four where the teachers were eating. Professor McGonagall lead the students to the teachers table, so they came to a halt facing the students with the teachers behind them.

Clover wasn't looking at the students though. The ceiling of the great hall had finally captured her attention. Clover stared up at the starry night sky until Hermoine nudged her and whispered, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_." Clover wished that Hermoine hadn't told her about the ceiling, wondering about it had been good for countering how nervous she was beginning to feel.

Clover gave the night sky one last glance then looked down in time to see Professor McGonagall place a pointed witches hat on a wooden stool. The hat was patched and very dirty. Clover wondered how the hat would sort them and desperately wished that her muggleborn guide had been less vague about the Sorting Ceremony.

Clover glanced about the hall nervously looking for some guidance. Eventually she realized that everyone else in the hall was staring at the hat so she decided to follow suit. The whole hall fell silent in anticipation, then the hat twitched. A second later a rip formed along the brim of the hat and widened into a giant smile. Clover felt a smile spreading across her own face a second later when the hat began to sing:

_"Oh, you may think I'm pretty,_

_ But don't judge what you see,_

_ I'll eat myself if you can find_

_ A smarter hat than me._

_ You can keep your bowlers black,_

_ Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_ For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_ And I can cap them all._

_ There's nothing hidden in your head_

_ The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_ So try me on and I will tell you_

_ Where you ought to be._

_ You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_ Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_ Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_ Set Gryffindors apart;_

_ You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_ Where they are just and loyal,_

_ Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_ And unafraid of toil;_

_ Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_ IF you've a ready mind,_

_ Where those of wit and learning,_

_ Will always find their kind;_

_ Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_ You'll make your real friends,_

_ Those cunning folk who use any means_

_ To achieve their ends._

_ So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_ And don't get in a flap!_

_ Your in safe hands (though I have none)_

_ For I'm a thinking Cap!"_

The great hall burst into applause as the Sorting Hat finished its song. Clover's smile got even wider when the hat bowed to each of the four tables then went quite still again. Clover heard Ron complain to Neville, "I'm going to kill Fred, he told me we had to wrestle a troll." Clover wondered if the twins were really that convincing or if their brother was not all there, but didn't say anything. She saw Neville start to relax and it occurred to her Ron might have just made the story up in order to cheer Neville up.

Professor McGonagall walked forward with a large roll of parchment in her hands and said, "When I call your name, You will come forward and put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She looked down at the paper and called out loudly so the entire hall could hear, "Abbot, Hannah!"

A girl with blonde pigtails about an inch taller than Clover stumbled out of line and put on the hat, which fell down right over her eyes and sat down on the stool. There was a pause then –

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

McGonagall called out another student, "Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Clover watched as the hat eventually decided to place "Broklehurst, Mandy" into Ravenclaw and wondered why the hat took so much longer to sort her than the first three. The next girl who stood a good six inches taller than Clover, also took a long time also before getting sent to Slytherin. Trying to puzzle out who would take longer to sort kept Clover occupied until she heard McGonagall call out, "Granger, Hermoine."

As Clover had suspected the hat took a few moments before shouting out, "GRYFFINDOR!" Clover had to resist the urge to step on Ron's foot when she heard him groan. He had no call for being so rude.

After Hermoine was seated McGonagall called up, "Greengrass, Daphne." The girl with pretty eyes from Diagon Alley walked up to the hat and sat it on her head carefully so it didn't fall.

The hall grew very quiet as the minutes drew on. Then Clover almost laughed when she realized what was going on. Daphne was arguing with the sorting hat. The girl obviously belonged in Gryffindor. Daphne had the gall to argue with what Hermoine had described as an ancient sentient artifact of in incredible magic while Clover could barely think straight from nerves. By the end almost ten minutes had passed and Daphne was clenching her teeth in irritation. Finally the hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!" and the girl carefully sat the hat back on the stool before walking towards her new house.

More than a few people were startled by that proclamation. One boy with platinum blonde hair that was even lighter than Daphne's was gaping outright for a few seconds before snapping his mouth closed with a click.

Clover winced when she saw Neville trip on the way to the stool. The poor boy was too nervous for his own good. To her surprise the hat took almost as long to decide with Neville as Daphne, but eventually shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!" He had an unreadable expression when he sat the hat back down on the stool and started off towards the table on the right.

Moments later the gaping blond was revealed to be "Malfoy, Draco" and was promptly sorted into Slytherin. He promptly went to join the two stocky first years he had been talking with earlier whose names Clover couldn't quite remember.

There weren't many people left in the line anymore. Clover thought she was going to die by the time McGonagall finally reached, "Potter, Harriet." Clover stepped forward.

Fred Weasley almost choked on his pumpkin juice when he saw who their 'new talent' was. Then a smile spread across his face. Fred spoke over his whispering housemates, "Brother mine?"

George nodded and they both raised their glasses in a good natured toast with a cry of, "New talent." McGonagall must have heard because she shot them a look that was half disapproving and half horrified.

The last thing Clover saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was everyone in the hall craning to get a good look at her. She briefly wished she could have kept the hat above her eyes like Daphne. Then a voice spoke in her head, "Hmm..."

"Hello, I liked your song."

"Why thank you, you are the first in ages to say that."

"So where would you like to be sorted?"

"I prefer to let the ancient artifact with centuries of experience make that decision."

"Well at least some of you have the proper sense of respect." A stray thought crossed Clover's mind and the hat replied to it, "No I won't tell you about it."

"So where should I go?"

"What about Slytherin? Your mental image of the crown you want when you are named empress of the world is very well done. Much better than a couple of the gaudy travesties I have had to witness over the years."

Clover felt her face heat up at that remark. "I was eight!" The hats mental chuckle was not reassuring. "So why did you suggest Slytherin instead of Hufflepuff?"

"Salazar would have appreciated your underdeveloped sense of fair play. Helga would be horrified."

"Sort me into Slytherin if you think it best."

"I see, your scared. You think its silly, but your still scared to be in the same house as the man who murdered you parents."

"...I'll still go if you think its best."

"And you think you don't have any Gryffindor traits."

"Then sort me."

The hat sighed. "You're very like Salazar, more so than anyone I can remember. That is why I think that he and Helga must be rolling in their graves, because your going to HUFFLEPUFF!"

A loud cheer filled the hall when the sorting hat shouted out the name of her house, but Clover was too distracted by trying to understand what the hat had told her. It took her a second to recover enough to stand and sit the sorting hat carefully on the bench before joining her new house.

The house of badgers was ecstatic. She had to shake more than one unfamiliar hand before she finally managed to sit down in the seat next to Daphne and Neville. Daphne smiled at her and asked, "Good to see you again Clover."

It took her a few moments to figure out why Neville was giving the pair of them strange looks before she realized why he was confused, "Its my middle name." The boy went red as a beet like he had made some mistake at the explanation.

"Ah, I'm sorry I didn't know."

She dismissed his unneeded apology. "No reason you should have." Another thought occurred to her. "I have no idea where Daphne picked it up honestly."

It was the blonde haired girls turn to blush. She spoke in a rush, "I remembered it from Madame Malkin's." Clover was grateful when the crowd around them fell silent for "Turpin, Lisa" to be sorted. She needed a moment to think about what the hat had told her without trying to make conversation. Ron Weasley had joined his brothers in Gryffindor before she had resolved to find out more about Salazar Slytherin, her muggleborn guide had only mentioned him in passing.

She eventually gave up the train of thought and turned her attention on the staff table. Each teacher seemed to be dressed more fantastically than the last. On the far right was the huge man that had lead them across the lake, Hagrid, and sitting next to him was one of the smallest adults that Clover had ever seen. She briefly wondered if he had sat next to Hagrid just for the strange contrast. Sitting next to him was a plump women in a brown robes with wild salt and pepper hair.

Talking to the plump women was a tall and thin lady in her late thirties who had her long brown hair woven into a braid which rested on her shoulder. In the center of the table was a very old man with a long silver beard sitting in a golden chair. Clover knew at once that he must be the famous Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Next to him there was an empty chair left open for Professor McGonagall. Then there was a dark haired man with a great crook nose that seemed unhappy for some reason or another. Possibly because Professor Quirrel was sitting next to him in a preposterous looking purple turban. At the far left a very old man and lady were talking quietly.

After the last first year had been sorted into Slytherin Daphne quietly told her. "Hagrid the groundskeeper is the big man on the far left. The short old man is Flitwick, he teaches charms. Sitting next to him is our house head Professor Sprout who teaches Herbology. Next is Professor Vector, I don't know much about her besides that she teaches Arithmancy. Dumbledore is is our illustrious headmaster, father says he has too many positions to be good at any of them. The man in the black robes is Professor Snape, the head of Slytherin. He teaches Potions and I've heard that he's very strict. I think the one in the turban is this years defense professor. The old women on the left is Professor Babbling who is even older than Dumbledore. She teaches Ancient Runes. I think the old man must be the Muggle Studies teacher. Were missing the divination professor, the astrology professor and Madame Hooch, whatever her job is."

Clover muttered the professor's names under hear breath trying to take in everything Daphne said. When Daphne finished she was happy to offer a bit of her own information. "The one in the ugly purple turban is Professor Quirrell, he teaches defense against the dark arts."

"Thought so."

Neville asked in a strained voice, "Is the position really cursed?"

Before anyone could answer Professor Dumbledore stood and the hall instantly went silent. He head his arms wide and smiled down at the student body. His voice carried across the hall. "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words and they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

"Thank you!"

Clover stared open mouthed as the headmaster bowed before sitting down. Her mouth closed with a click when Daphne spoke. "Don't let it fool you. Even father admits that he's incredibly crafty and powerful."

"Discussing the oddities our illustrious headmaster no doubt?" Another voice called out from behind them. Clover jerked around to see the semi-transparent form of the Fat Friar. She wondered what he wanted before dumbly remembering that he was their house ghost.

It took another moment for Clover to realize she was being rude. She gave the ghost a warm smile and said, "Hello Friar. How are you doing."

"I am afraid that I am quite dreadfully dead." Clover wasn't sure how to respond to that. Luckily the Friar continued, "But thank you for asking." The Friar adjusted himself into a more dignified pose before introducing himself properly. "I am the house ghost of Hufflepuff, Friar Tuck. Though many young Puff's prefer to call me the Fat Friar." He wrapped his hands around his ample waste and added, "Because I am rather fat you see."

Clover couldn't help but giggle at the ghosts exaggerated actions, which brought a warm smile to the ghosts face. "Do not hesitate to bring your problems to me. I am always available for everything from a confession to carousing." After completing his speech the Friar floated towards the other two new Hufflepuffs.

When Clover turned back around the table was filled with every kind of a food imaginable. There were normal things like roast beef, baked chicken, pork chops and lamb chops next to extraordinary things like a bowl of noodles which twisted together into a snake that snapped at nearby hands. Clover decided discretion was the better part of valor and picked out a small meal of chicken and vegetable medley. She did allow herself a small experiment with a glass of what Daphne claimed was pumpkin juice.

Pumpkin juice turned out to be a good choice. It had a strange but delicious taste, like apple juice mixed with cinnamon.

Daphne's plate was more exotic. She had a small pile of fruit that glowed strange colors sitting beside what looked like a piece of fish with small crystals jutting out of it haphazardly. Clover wondered if that was normal fare for wizards for a moment before she saw Neville giving Daphne's plate furtive glances.

She decided that Daphne just had strange tastes before going back to her own meal. Clover finished her meal early enough to send a few glances around the room before the food in front of them vanished. At the Gryffindor table Ron was sitting next to his brothers chatting amiably with a the ruffled ghost they had seen earlier. A glance at the Slytherin table made her giggle. The blonde haired boy, Draco Malfoy if Clover remembered correctly, was sitting next to a ghost covered in silver bloodstains. He looked like a small rodent caught by a cat.

Then the appearance of thousands of desserts drew her out of her observations. Clover ignored the pies and tarts in favor of a block of chocolate ice cream. Her sweet tooth immediately approved of her decision. She closed he eyes and took another bite; the ice cream was blissful.

It must have showed because when she opened her eyes Daphne was giving her a strange look. Clover felt her cheeks heat, but was saved from embarrassment when the headmaster stood again and spoke. "Now that you are all fed and watered, I have a few start-of-term notices to give you."

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils for your safety." He spared the Weasley twins a twinkling glance before continuing, "And a few older students would do well to remember that as well."

"I have been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Clover turned to Daphne just in time to hear her mutter, "Well that was easy."

Neville turned to them both and asked, "Do you think he's serious?" before Clover could decide how to respond to the blonde's comment.

Neville cowered a bit when they both turned to look at him. Clover felt bad for him so she gave him a smile before admitting, "I don't know."

Daphne's mouth drew into a small line and she said, "He is." Clover wondered what the blonde haired girl knew, but didn't want to upset the girl by asking.

Dumbledore waited a moment more for the message to sink in before pronouncing, "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Clover had to stifle a giggle as the other teachers smiles suddenly became very wooden.

He gave his wand a little flick and a long golden ribbon flew out of it and rose to the roof of the hall before twisting itself to spell out the words of the school song. Dumbledore gave a satisfied nod and cheered, "Everyone pick their own tune!"

What followed was not music. It was mayhem. Clover tried anyway, which earned her an eye roll from Daphne who refused to join in. To everyone's misfortune Neville didn't follow her example. The poor boy was so tone deaf that he couldn't follow a tuneless song.

Everyone finished the song at a different time until only the Weasley twins were left singing in a slow and deep funeral march. Dumbledore continued to demonstrate his warped taste in music with an exaggerated wipe to his eyes, as though the song had caused him to cry. He finally called out, "Ah, music! A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you go."

**A/N:**

**A bit shorter than I like, but I update this fic so rarely that I thought I should go ahead and post what I have. **

**House match ups are a bit different than normal. There are reasons for this besides my convenience.**

**I'm fairly sure that the Fat Friar is based on Friar Tuck from Robin Hood, so I made Tuck his real name. He can't be actually named fat...right? **

**I have no idea how pumpkin juice actually tastes. Its probably like V8, which I think is disgusting. So I picked a flavor I would actually like instead, reality can take a backseat to the author in this case.**

**For those of you waiting on the next chapter of Danzo's Team, who are probably irritated that this came out instead: It will be out in a week to a week in a half.**

**For those of you who wish I would spend more time on this instead: Sorry. Once I get to a certain breakpoint in Danzo's Team I may give it a bit of a break and finish at least the first year of this fic, but that breakpoint is at least 3 arcs away, so don't get too excited. **

**Man I really want to write that ZnTxHellsing crossover...**


	5. Chapter 5

A Hufflepuff prefect waved her hands and shouted over the noise until the first years gathered behind her; then she lead them off into the castle. The halls were lined with even more amazing things. The portraits moved and called out to them, and Clover caught at a suit of armor moving moving clandestinely before freezing suddenly like one of the royal guards caught out of position.

The prefect lead them deeper into the castle until they reached a great stair that moved careless of the students walking on it. The prefect waited for some unseen cue before proceeding down the stair with her charges. The corridors at the bottom of the stair were narrower and darker than the halls above. The windows had vanished and Clover suspected that they were now underground.

The hallway made up for its narrowness by the sheer complexity of its branches. Clover had long lost track of the number of lefts and rights they had made when the prefect came to a sudden halt in what appeared to be a large storeroom. The prefect stood in front of a set of great set of barrels larger than anything Clover had seen before. She was idly trying to calculate how much each barrel held when the prefect called out to the group, "To enter the Hufflepuff common room you must tap the center barrel to the tune of 'Helga Hufflepuff.' Tapping incorrectly is... not advised."

Clover made sure to listen carefully to the beat as the prefect tapped on the barrel. She didn't have a clue what the tune 'Helga Hufflepuff' was, but she could memorize it easily enough. The prefect finished a few seconds later and after a few seconds silence there was a sudden heavy thump. The front of the barrel swung open revealing another set of stairs leading up into the Hufflepuff common room.

The common room was filled with warm light that seemed to come from everywhere at once. At the top of the room were a series of windows that Clover suspected would allow even more light in during the day, but the strangest thing about the room was the plants. Almost every nook and and cranny of the room was filled with one strange plant or another. Clover could hear faint music playing from one with a single great blue flower; others with small red buds were literally jumping from hanging pot to hanging pot along the top of the room.

The prefect looked at the wonderful room as though it was perfectly normal and said. "Since it is very late we will go over the house rules tomorrow morning." The remark earned the prefect a general cheer which she promptly stomped on, "Which means you all will wake up early to hear them." The prefect's cheery smile seemed sinister somehow as she went on, "I'm sure your roommates will help the late risers among you get up in time." Clover wondered how exactly they were supposed to wake up on time if none of them had an alarm clock, but wasn't willing to ask.

"Boys are down the right hall, girls are down the left hall. Your room has your names on the door." The perfect finished before vanishing back out of the common room. Clover wandered down the girls hall with Daphne until they found a door marked in cheery yellow writing:

_Welcome!_

_Hannah Abbot_

_Susan Bones_

_Daphne Greengrass_

_Harriet Potter_

Daphne didn't quite roll her eyes at the writing, but Clover could tell that she really wanted too. The room was the same circular style as the common room. The big four poster beds sat with their head at even increments along the wall and ran towards the center of the room making a big cross design. Clover absentmindedly looked around until she found her trunk neatly stowed under one of the beds.

Nearby was a dresser where the few dresses she had brought were hung along with her robes. Before she could inspect the rest of the room their other roommates walked inside. Clover remembered the blonde hair girl who had been forced to wear the hat first, which made the girl with wavy red hair Susan Bones. But she walked across the room and introduced herself anyway. "Nice to meet you. I'm Clover."

That earned her a pair of vaguely confused looks from the two new girls which Daphne answered before she could. "She's Harriet Potter and I'm Daphne Greengrass."

Clover felt a small frown forming, but quashed it before anyone noticed. Susan responded first in a voice so cheerful it had to be fake, "Hi, I'm Susan."

The Hannah obviously thought so also if her eyeroll was any indication. The girl introduced herself with a soft, but firm, "Hannah Abbot. Nice to meet you all-" The last was almost cut off by a sudden yawn that had the girl covering her mouth and blushing. Hannah recovered admirably, "And I am apparently quite sleepy."

That earned her a genuine smile from Clover. "I second that." Susan looked like she wanted to stay up and talk, but a glare from Daphne, who was quite a bit more sleepy than she let on, quieted the red head. Clover drifted back over to her trunk and fished a blue nightie and a pair of striped pajama pants out of her trunk. She changed quickly and dived into the bed's quilted covers before setting her glasses on the nightstand.

After a few moments everyone else was also in bed and a problem became apparent. The great bronze lamps at the top of the room were burning merrily, and they were also quite out of reach. Clover spoke up first, "Does anyone know how to turn off the light?"

After a moments thought Daphne stared at the lights and firmly commanded, "Off." Nothing happened. The blond tried, "Dark." next. The lights continued unperturbed. The others joined in with commands of their own until Clover was ready to go find a prefect. But she had barely reached for her glasses when Daphne said, "Nox." and the room went black. Clover smiled unseen into the darkness and went to sleep.

Clover discovered the hard way exactly why she didn't need an alarm clock. The early morning sun was shining through the room's single window directly onto her face and no amount of hiding under the covers would make it go away. Clover groggily fished her glasses from the nightstand and found the Hufflepuff showers.

When she had finished showering her roommates were still all asleep. Clover wondered if she was supposed to wake them up, but decided against it. She quietly changed and packed her carry bag before leaving for the common room. Clover felt better about leaving her roommates asleep when she found it still deserted except for an older girl who appeared to be scrambling to finish what Clover suspected was a summer assignment.

Clover found a comfortable chair and table on the other side of the common room and pulled out a sheet of parchment along with her container of color changing ink. The sight of the ink brought a small smile to her face and she started writing a letter to her family:

_Dear Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley,_

_I arrived at Hogwarts safely. They had a big feast to welcome us and we were all sorted into our houses. Our house is the group of students we live with and go to class with in case it wasn't clear. I'm in Hufflepuff which is the house of loyalty and hard work. Though I was almost sorted into Slytherin which is the house of ambition and cleverness. Apparently my attributes are very closely divided between the two. It must be your good influence Uncle Vernon. _

_I'm rooming with three other first year Hufflepuff girls. Daphne Greengrass who I met earlier when I was at the Alley with Aunt Petunia. She has really beautiful eyes, and seems to be a serious and dignified person. Then there is Hannah Abbot who seems really down to earth and has a good sense of humor. My last roomate is Susan Bones. She's either really energetic or she got a lot more sleep than the rest of us. I was so tired last night and she seemed just fine._

_They are supposed to go over house rules and give our class schedules this morning, so I have a busy day ahead of me. But enough about me._

_How are the three of you managing without me. More importantly have you made Dudley pack for Smeltings yet? He only has a few days left and if I know him he plans to put it off to the last moment. _

_Love,_

_Clover_

Clover made an important discovery writing the letter. Writing with a quill and a ink pot was much harder than writing with a pencil. By the third line she had smudged the writing until it was illegible, and had to start over. It took her two drafts to get a good copy of the letter and the early risers were starting to move around the common room when she finished.

Clover looked up to see Daphne appear from the girls hallway dressed in her school uniform. She had her hair pulled up in an elaborate bun far to complex for her to have done by herself. It took a few moments for Clover to figure out how the girl had done it, then she almost sighed in realization. Clover made a mental note to ask Daphne about magic hair styling at some point and said, "Good morning. Sleep well?"

"I did, thank you for asking. I'm surprised that someone was up before me though."

Clover made a face and said, "I would have loved to sleep in. The sun on the other hand..."

The comment brought a small smile to Daphne's face. "I see. I'm going to go wake the other two up. Do you want to come help?"

"Sure." Clover folded her letter and stowed it in her carry bag before following Daphne back into their room. The light were back on, but the last two occupants of the room were still happily slumbering away.

Daphne called out, "Good Morning!" loudly but neither of their roommates did more than roll over. Clover sighed at the sight and started shaking Hannah awake. It had less than satisfactory results. Daphne was more successful and a still sleepy Susan stumbled to the shower a while Clover kept trying. Daphne eventually walked over and asked, "How could she still be asleep?"

To Clover's surprise Hannah answered, "I'm not asleep; I'm showing my appreciation to Sir Pillow in hopes you both go away."

Clover couldn't help herself, "...Sir Pillow?"

"Sir Pillow is a knight of the sleeping circle! He is the wonderful paladin who helps me fight off the depravities of morning in favor of a five o'clock breakfast, and he is the one and only true love of my life."

Clover blinked a few times then admitted, "...That was pretty good for someone still half asleep."

If the wand was anything to go by Daphne was less amused. "Right. _Wingardium Leviosa_." The pillow promptly rose from the bed. A disgruntled Hannah held onto the pillow tightly, trying to fight the spell with sheer stubbornness. For a few seconds she succeed, then the pillow lifted off with her still in tow. Then Hannah's grip slipped and she was sent to the floor with a thud.

Daphne canceled the spell instantly and blurted out, "I'm sorry." before rushing to girl's side.

The girl rubbed her bottom and muttered, "And this is why I don't get up." Hannah vanished into the Hufflepuff baths without another word, leaving a concerned and guilty Daphne behind.

Clover shrugged and said, "Lets go back to the common room."

Susan and Hannah barely appeared in time for the prefect from last night to start her lecture on the house rules. "Good morning first years! Before breakfast I need to go over a few house rules:

Rule one – To use one of the private study rooms even briefly you must first sign up with Professor Sprout. Just because you think a room is unused doesn't mean it is; older student's often leave long term projects in the rooms and do not want you disturbing their work.

Rule two – The Hufflepuff study group meets in the common room on Tuesday nights from six to eight. Attendance for first years is mandatory until Halloween.

Rule three – House chores are assigned randomly. Chores are not optional, neither is switching work with someone else. The chore list is hung outside both the male and female seventh year rooms, consult it.

Rule four – All Hufflepuffs are required to join at least one approved school club. The do-nothing club is not and never will be an approved school club.

Rule five – Bedtime for students third year and below is midnight.

Rule six – House party's that go on past midnight need to remain quiet enough to not disturb those who are trying to sleep.

Rule seven – Rule seven … isn't really a rule its more of a suggestion. We're Hufflepuff, the other houses tend to look down on us. Over the years I've heard us called everything from the house of useless to the house of sidekicks. Don't let it get to you; and if they push too hard... well our symbol is a badger for a reason."

Clover blinked and wondered if the prefect had really just given them a carte blanche for retribution. Then she shook her head, the prefect had to have meant that in a nicer way. The prefect seemed perfectly unaware of Clover's dilemma when she concluded, "Thanks for listening. I hope you all have a good year here and Hufflepuff. If you have any problem's don't hesitate to bring them to a prefect's attention. Now lets all go to breakfast!"

The prefect gestured to the door and they started filing out of the common room before walking to breakfast as a group. Breakfast was a much plainer affair than the great feast the night before, but if it lacked the more exotic delicacies of the feast it more than made up for it with sheer overabundance.

Clover had a light breakfast before wrapping a few pieces of bacon in a napkin and stowing them away in her carry bag. Daphne finished up soon after and offered to come with her to find the owlry. They were almost out of the great hall when they bumped into the plump witch that Clover vaguely remembered Daphne pointing out as Professor Sprout, their head of house.

The dimpled witch gave them a big smile and asked, "How was your first night in the castle?"

"It was nice, that you for asking Professor."

"Are you off to explore the castle?"

Clover opened her mouth to answer then paused. She was struck by a sudden worry how the professor would react if she answered yes. Before she could decide Daphne cut into the conversation and saved her, "Clover wanted to send a letter to her family, and I wanted to see the view from the owlry."

Professor Sprout's lips pinched together into a thin line and she finally spoke in a concerned tone, "Normally, the first years all travel together for the first few days until they learn how to find all of the classrooms. Will you to be fine on your own?"

The immediate chorus of, "Yes, Professor." apparently reassured the women because she started fishing through her robes pockets.

After a moment she produced at packet of parchments tied together with a ribbon and said, "Then you will need one of these." The women untied the ribbon and flipped through the stack until she found a pair of parchments labeled _First Year_, and passed them to the girls.

Clover took a quick glance at the piece of paper and realized that it was her schedule. She quickly thanked the professor. She accepted graciously and made sure to give the pair directions to the owlry before she let them wander off into the castle.

It soon became incredibly apparent why their head of house had been so concerned. Hogwarts was easily the most complex building that Clover had ever been in. Not only were their no maps, the stairways and portraits actually moved which made the building even more confusing. And that wasn't even mentioning the new bane of Clover's life, Peeve's the Poltergeist.

The poltergeist had appeared from no where bearing a box of chalk bits and dust which the little devil had promptly dumped over Clover's head. Clover was left sputtering in indignant rage as Peeves cheerfully spun around on the ceiling above laughing at her. Clover completely forgot herself and started shouting threats she had learned from her uncle back at the ghost.

When Peeves finally vanished to torment someone else Clover became abruptly aware that her outburst had drawn a small crowd. Standing on the stairs behind Daphne were the school caretaker Filch and his cat Mrs. Norris. For a moment Clover thought she saw respect in their eyes before the caretaker gruffly told her and Daphne to be on their way.

Clover blushed an luminescent red and rushed towards the owlry. Daphne called after her, but Clover was too embarrassed to respond. Daphne didn't catch up until they both standing on the bottom level of the owlry gasping for breath. Clover blushed harder when she realized that Daphne had chased after her when she had run from her embarrassing display.

Clover stammered a bit before starring at the floor and mumbling, "I'm sorry." She wondered if she had managed to ruin their relationship on the first day of school with her little outburst. It would be just like elementary all over again.

Then Daphne surprised her, "What for? I really liked the part with grapeshot and a tea cup." She stared at the downcast Clover for a few seconds before adding, "Let me fix your hair, dusty white isn't really your color." Daphne produced her wand and pointed it at Clover before whispering, "_Tergeo_."

The dust lifted out of Clover's hair into a small funnel in front of Daphne's wand before vanishing abruptly into the wand tip. Clover gave the girl a small smile and said, "Thanks."

"No problem. Now don't you have a letter to deliver?"

Clover's blush was back for a moment and she hurriedly called for Hedwig to come down. The snowy owl appeared with a sniff that turned into a happy bark when Clover produced the bacon from her carry bag. Clover quietly admonished the owl for thinking she wouldn't keep her promise, which the owl happily ignored in favor of the delicious bacon it was being provided with.

After Hedwig finished off the bacon and consented to carry Clover's mail with another happy bark, Clover and Daphne spent a few moments staring out the owlry window at the Hogwarts grounds. From the window they could see the small stream that cut through the center of the grounds and fed in into the black lake below.

"Hey does this mean we're friends?"

Daphne froze at the question. Clover was about to ask if something was wrong when Daphne answered in a choked voice, "I would like that."

When they were about to leave to search for their first class Clover worked up the courage to ask Daphne something that had been bothering her. "How do you know so much magic anyway?"

If the question bothered Daphne the blonde didn't show it. "Father...insured I was well prepared for school."

"So is everyone who grew up in the wizarding world as far ahead as you?"

Daphne looked back out at the grounds a moment before conceding that she was something of an exception to the rule. Clover gathered that most families didn't teach their children very much before they went to Hogwarts and that Daphne's instruction would be frowned upon if it became well known. Daphne was just a bit forceful when she announced that they need to look for the history of magic classroom or they would be late and Clover resolved to not bring up the subject again.

;

History of magic turned out to be a horrible boor which only a few of the Ravenclaws managed to pay attention through. Clover ended up reading her book after the novelty of being taught by a ghost wore off during the first few minutes of class.

After Binns finally dismissed them the first year Hufflepuffs walked as a group towards the transfiguration classroom. And Susan was interrogating Clover, "What club are you going to join? I'm thinking charm studies."

Clover wanted to find a list of the clubs offered before she made a dicision, but Susan wasn't buying it. So Clover finally announced, "I'll probably join a music club if its offered, but I want to look around first.

Susan looked like she wanted to press the issue, but Daphne inserted herself into the conversation, "Fencing."

Susan took the bait and turned on Daphne with a gleam in her eyes, "That's so cool. But I heard that most of the club is boys are you sure you want to?"

Clover didn't hear Daphne's response because Hannah chose that moment to quietly complain, "She's been this excited all morning. I'm about ready to try my hand at that stunning spell my mom talks about."

Clover stifled a giggle and the girls tone and gave Hannah her best conspirator's smile. Any plots to quiet the excited read head fell apart as they walked into the the transfiguration classroom and Professor McGonagall effortlessly quieted the entire room with a look.

McGonagall started the class by introducing her absolutely no nonsense policy towards transfiguration and the punishments for breaking her rules, then she launched into a lecture which Clover hurried to copy down.

After she finished her lecture McGonagall handed out matchsticks to everyone and told them to transform them into needles. By the end of class Clover had become intimately aware that she had a problem. The theory was simple enough. Their were a bunch of laws, but for something as simple as changing a matchstick to a needle all the caster had to do was form a mental picture of what they wanted and use their magic to fulfill it.

That was much easier said than done. Clover could form the picture easily enough, but her magic just did not want to obey. She eventually decided to ignore Mr. Ollivander's warning and just forced the magic. McGonagall hadn't been amused at all when her match had turned into a miniature fireball. Not even when Clover pointed out that the ashes had been metallic.

Daphne spent the lesson staring at her match as though she was confused, but Clover had a sneaking suspicion that the blonde was just playing around and was more than capable of the simple transfiguration. Between Clover's fireball and Daphne's willful under performance the first year Hufflepuffs managed to leave the classroom down a few points.

;

Neville was the first to learn that tapping the incorrect tune on the Hufflepuff common room door lead to being sprayed with vinegar. It reached the point where Clover thought the boy would end up pickled and insisted that he start traveling with them until he learned how to keep a beat. He had been so enthusiastic to join them Clover suspected he would never willingly try the common room door again.

The travel arrangements had lead to quite a few unneeded trips back to the common room since Neville seemed to be hopelessly forgetful. The extra trips had seemed annoying at first, and Clover would have complained if Daphne hadn't been so stoically patient about the trouble. Then Clover realized that all the side trips had helped her learn the shortcuts of the castle a lot better than her peers, and felt a bit of pride in helping Neville make it to every class on time. Clover was almost certain that no one else knew about the hidden shortcut underneath the toad statue in the transfiguration hall that let out by the kitchens.

As the week drew on Clover managed to earn back the points she had lost. She earned the house a point in charms for being the first to perform the spell, but held no illusions that she would excel at the subject. She had merely been fortunate and had learned the spell during the summer. To her dismay what had taken her four days to learn most of the class picked up before Professor Flitwick dismissed them.

The only silver lining she had was that Professor Sprout favored them shamelessly in herbology. The bushy haired Gryffindor she remembered from the boat, Hermoine Granger had been faster to raise her hand every single time, but Sprout only called on her once. They had left the greenhouse with fifteen points to Gryffindor's five.

She was still smiling the next morning when the Weasley twins caught her outside of the great hall. Clover sighed at something she just knew was going to be troublesome and told Daphne and Neville to go ahead without her. The one she strongly suspected was Fred spoke first, "It has come to our attention that your are still undecided on the school club you will join."

Clover wondered how exactly the twins had found out about Hufflepuff's requirements. She knew for a fact that Gryffindor didn't make students join a club. But before she could ask the one she thought was George continued in a high pitched tone, "Tisk tisk. You have to decide by Monday."

Clover knew better than to let them gain momentum and cut Fred off when he tried to pick up after his brother, "And what exactly are you proposing."

"We my dear lady happen to be members of a club that would be famed-"

"If it wasn't so secretive." George finished in a low hiss that he seemed to think was menacing.

Clover didn't bite. "It has to be an approved school club."

George nodded like a wise sage and said, "Which would be a problem is some heroic student in the distant past had not managed to add a certain name to the official club listing."

"Then when that student was near to graduation he let a few others in on his secret. This heroic legacy has been passed down this day for students who have that certain talent-"

"Which you have demonstrated in abundance."

Fred caught the interest in Clover's eyes and gave a final piece of instruction before vanishing into the great hall. "If you think you're worthy then we meet at midnight tonight on the seventh floor. If you can't dodge the curfew to get there then your not club material."

Clover left meeting with the twins with a small eager smile that carried her into the dungeons, then vanished immediately when Professor Snape swooped into the classroom and gave them a stare that made chills run up Clover's back. The chatter disappeared instantly and every student gave the professor their full and terrified attention. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," He began to pace through the classroom as though he was looking for someone who was less than fully attentive. He found no one. "There is little foolish wand-waving here. Many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Clover wondered if he had practiced his little speech. It was certainly effective. In the space of a few seconds he had inspired an intense interest in potion making and more than a little desire to prove that she wasn't a dunderhead. She ruefully thought that the line about no foolish wand waving combined with her earlier disaster in transfiguration might have contributed to the feeling.

"Ms. Potter, what would I get if I added powered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Clover could have cursed. The answer was the example potion in the section of their text that described infusions. The name was on the tip of her tongue and it would just not come. So she started rambling, "It was in chapter fourteen of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ as the example..."

"An answer Ms. Potter."

Clover blushed and said, "I'm sorry professor, I don't remember."

Professor Snape looked like he had bitten into an unripe apple. "Perhaps we should try again. Ms. Potter where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"

Clover smiled. She knew the answer. "A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat that can be used to cure most poisons. That was from the chapter on safety at the start of _Magical Drafts and -_"

"And I can do without the references. One more try Ms. Potter. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They are the same plant professor."

Snape gave her a neutral look before announcing, "Maybe you can learn Ms. Potter." Then he turned to the class and said, "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A beozoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and a high quality one is very expensive. If I think your potion will cause someone to need one then I will vanish your potion and give you a zero on the assignment. As Ms. Potter said monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, it is also known as aconite." He paused and gave the room a contemptuous look before asking, "Well, why aren't you writing this down?"

There was a sudden din as the students grabbed for quills and parchment and more than a few victorious smiles from the few Ravenclaws that had already been taking notes. Clover choose to ignore them and pulled out a few pieces of parchment and briefly outlined what the professor had said. In an act of spite she was sure to include the references she knew.

Clover felt a bit of relief as the lesson went on. Professor Snape lectured while the blackboard behind him wrote out the highlights and he asked random students a few more questions in the same incisive tone he had used with Clover. She decided that the professor was just an naturally no nonsense person and wondered if McGonagall had acted the same when she was younger. She dutifully took notes with a small smile; she had been afraid that the professor didn't like her for some reason.

By the half way point of the lesson Neville had lost the Hufflepuffs three points for being disrespectful. Which translated into stuttering madly while Professor Snape was bearing down on him. Clover felt a bit sorry for the boy, but she sort of understood why it would annoy the professor.

After the professor finished his lecture the more interesting half of the lesson began. Professor Snape put them all into pairs and set them to work trying to brew a simple potion to cure boils. Clover felt a surge of relief when she got Daphne as her partner and Neville was shuffled off to a Ravenclaw boy, Terry Boot she thought. Neville was clumsy and forgetful at the best of times; Clover had no doubts that his nerves would make him worse than normal. Neville would be an unmitigated disaster today.

The relief was followed immediately by a surge of guilt and a new resolve to either help the boy or find someone that could. Daphne nudged her out of her thoughts just in time to avoid the professor's ire and they started brewing. By unspoken agreement Daphne worked the cauldron while Clover carefully cut, ground and smashed every ingredient to specification.

The professor spent the lesson swooping around and pointing out mistakes in his usual caustic tone. He would occasionally take a break to point out how someone, usually a Ravenclaw, had done something exceptionally well and incorporate it into his lesson. He had just begun to explain exactly why Padma Patil's potion had turned into a faintly green clear solution after she stewed her horned slugs when clouds of acid shot from Neville's cauldron.

Clover barely ducked in time to avoid being splattered in the ensuing explosion. She performed an expedited retreat away from the shrieking remains of the cauldron and joined Daphne in a precarious perch atop one of the spare stools.

Neville wasn't so fortunate. The potion had drenched him and he was now writhing on the floor while angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. Snape was less than pleased and barely managed to not shout at the boy while he cleaned up the mess.

When the professor had calmed enough to speak rather than snarl he told Terry Boot to take the boy to the hospital wing to be treated and to everyone's surprise Daphne raised her hand. The professor's voice was back on the edge of outright hostility when he snapped, "What is it girl?"

If Daphne noticed how thin of ice she was on she didn't show it. "Our potion was contaminated during the explosion. Since its not longer usable can Harriet and I help Mr. Boot take Neville to the infirmary? We are housemates with Neville after all." Clover blinked then felt her cheeks heat; she hadn't even considered what the explosion might have done to their potion. And she certainly hadn't thought of helping Terry and Neville.

The professor roughly nodded in permission before vanishing their potion. Clover quickly packed her carry bag before helping the others get Neville upright. The three of them had barely managed to get Neville into the hall before they heard a shout of, "Get back to work!" behind them.

**A/N: Less of a rehash of the book than previous chapters.**

**Most of the Hufflepuff common room stuff was ripped from the wiki, but some of it was made up. The clubs thing was added since I have no intention of first year quidditch and its a good way to include some other characters that are older or out of house. It also just seems like a Hufflepuff thing to do.**

**I hope I didn't screw up the Neville relationship to badly in this chapter. Its supposed to be a bit of a pity/friendship hybrid and is supposed to demonstrate that Clover isn't the kindest person in the world, but she recognizes that and tries to improve herself. **

**I have the main characters planned as a Clover/Daphne/Hermoine trio, but Ron and Neville will show up a lot also. Though I still haven't decided exactly what to do with Ron. **

**I like the confrontation with Snape. By reading how someone writes that confrontation you can tell what kind of harry potter your dealing with. I tried to write mine as a bit of a nerd, but also tried to make the questions into something that a bookworm (read Hermoine) could really know instead of just assuming Snape was asking NEWT material to screw with harry. **

**I'm trying to set up a harry thats fairly weak in charms and transfiguration but excels in the non-wand subjects such as herbology and potions and still preserve as much of Snape's character as I can. Though I might make Snape a bit less childish, I have no intention of removing his grudge.**

**A/N General:**

**I have midterms Friday then am going on vacation until the 4th. Don't expect an update for Danzo's team this week.**


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