The letter in my hands hurts, in more ways than I care to think on. The goblins have an automated process for this sort of thing, so they don't even know who I am. James cast Jessica, and by extension me, out of the Potter Family. By blood. And there is no re-entrance.
Safety measure, I suppose. Hedwig comforts me, even as I don't cry. I can't cry, I've found.
Still, I can rationalize it. It's an old pureblood protective measure. There are… things that can be done with the body. Polyjuice potion is only the start. Necromancy is a disgusting subject, especially in conjunction with possession. It's actually easier to possess a corpse than it is a live person. On the other hand, possessing a live person gives a layer of protection to the possessor. I'm guessing that was the reason Voldemort possessed a living Quirrell, rather than a dead one. A dead Quirrell would have been Riddle, and Albus knew Riddle quiet well. Riddle knew Quirrell would be under suspicion no matter what, but Albus would've been less suspicious of a strange-acting man, rather than Riddle himself.
I'm rambling.
James just wants to protect his family, any way he can. If he has to disown his dead daughter, then so be it.
Knowing it doesn't make the situation hurt any less though.
The rational part of my mind wonders if I can lay claim to the Gaunt family. Something to discuss with the Goblins, I suppose. Later, though. Or maybe never. Probably never, actually.
I found Griphook, and handed back the sword with its scroll of deeds. He looks it over.
"You've put it to use, I see. Couldn't get Godric's sword?"
"Nope. I tried, I'll tell you that much, but its guardian refused me."
Griphook nodded.
"Where is it guarded?"
"It is within the Hogwarts Sorting Hat, waiting to be called upon by one who is worthy of defending the school. I wasn't defending the school at the time, so the hat deemed it unnecessary."
At this, Griphook nodded, thanked me for the information, and we both went on our way. Me, back to my house, and him to file the paperwork that says I actually am related to Lily Evans-Potter.
It's probably a little vindictive of me, but I make no mention at all of the hat actually summoning the sword right back if it gets lost. Then again, I remember the little fuck trying to kill me in the depths of the bank. Not quite an even trade, but I'm not about to declare war on the goblins.
0x0x0x0
I am bleeding from my crotch.
Huh.
I'd noticed some abdominal pain throughout the day, but hadn't been paying much attention to it. I only realized it when I took a shower and noticed. I use a charm I stole from Bella to clean the blood out of my laundry, and then enchant my boxers to vanish my… my menses.
My fist does a surprising amount of damage to the tiles on the wall, and then there's always that little bit of wonder in my mind as the shatter chunks of tile leap up from the floor, returning themselves into wall.
I blame Dumbledore. I'm doing that a lot lately, but generally it's his fault.
And that's it, I'm done with it. There's nothing to be done.
I spent a while with a Veela brothel back when I was Harry. Not as a client, but as an… employee. It turns out that in some of the high-end brothels, men who can resist the allure are sought after. Not as clients, but as men to help the Veela themselves… well… relax, I guess; someone male to talk to, someone who doesn't fall over themselves at their mere sight of them, and who's willing to spend the night every once in a while.
It was a strange and interesting paycheck, and the matron was a good friend.
But the things I learned there… well, the most important one for my situation is this. There's no potion or ritual or anything else to change your gender. You are as you are born. You can work, you can beat and mould and try to reshape yourself, but there's nothing to be well and truly done with what's actually between your legs.
I also learned that Polyjuice potion has some very strange results when using the hair of a Veela, but that's neither here nor there.
Once more, I have the short end of the stick. Once more, I must adapt.
So I do.
Life goes on.
0x0x0x0
Tonks catches me the first time I'm in the Leaky Cauldron. I feel like shit, but I'm pretty sure I don't look the part, as well. At least I don't drink anymore.
Tonks, of course, disabuses me of that notion.
"Wotcher Jamie, you alright?"
"Long couple of days," I reply.
"No kidding," she says, looking at the paper. Dumbledore's death is front page news. The Potters spun the story into Quirrell attempting to murder Dumbledore, with the plan backfiring... somehow. A combination of a dark, withering curse, and attempting a poisoning by snake if that failed. They were still looking for the snake, though. There were also rumours about something being hidden in the third floor corridor, but nothing came of it.
The alley itself is shell-shocked. People walk around in a daze, in endless waves of black robes and funeral veils. I may have been nice enough to send a letter to Rita Skeeter, informing her I'd squash her like a bug if she printed her book. I may hate the man, but I respect him for the choices he made. Let him be a hero.
"Who'd they replace the defence teacher with?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"Oh, James Potter grabbed my uncle Sirius to teach. They haven't even figured out who's going to be Headmaster yet."
I consider, for a long moment, Severus Snape and Sirius Black on the staff of Hogwarts. I decide to try not to think about it, and instead focus on the muggle world instead. I know people in this world, but most of them are dead.
"You know," continues Tonks, "Uncle Sirius said Minerva would take the position if they could find a good master of transfiguration. You said you were planning on getting your mastery once you had a wand, right? And you were also interested in teaching, too, yeah?"
Oh, fuck. I have no way of arguing out of this. She's going to make me get an interview, and then I'm going to have to deal with the Potters. Fuck me in half! I wanted some damn peace and quiet. Hell, I wanted to live in my bloody house. Well, I suppose it makes it easier that I'm no longer a Potter.
"Alright, I'll slap together a resume," I say with Ill concealed resignation.
"No need! I'll just talk with my uncle Sirius, he says he can get an interview tonight!"
Fuck.
0x0x0x0
I use some charms I learned from Bellatrix to make my hair somewhat curly, but tame. I'm thankful, once more, for possessing her, and having the presence of mind to ransack her brain for… feminine needs spells. And, well, information on female puberty itself. I know I tuned out Hermione a fair amount if she ever talked about her monthly visitor. Ron and I didn't need to hear it, but I at least stayed around for it.
The interview itself will be a cakewalk, especially since I don't want the job. Still… It's Minerva. I know her. I dress well, and prepare to show my best. Maybe I can get the job a few years from now.
"Lord Black, I presume?" I ask the tall, lean man waiting at the Three Broomsticks. His face is lit up with a jovial smile as he finishes chatting with Rosemerta, while his dark eyes appraise me.
"I am indeed Lord Black. Although please, feel free to call me Sirius. You must be Jamie Evans?"
"Right in one," I reply, and shake his hand.
"So tell me about yourself," he says, leading me up to the castle.
"There isn't much to tell," I reply.
"I'm sure there is. How does a muggleborn girl who looks fourteen become a Warlock for slaying a basilisk?"
"Unfortunately prodigious skill, and a want to leave behind her past," I reply. "The goblins, at least, tell me I'm eighteen."
"And how old are you really?" asks Sirius.
"That'd be telling," I reply with a smile.
"I can see why my niece likes you so much."
"She's an adventure and a half, and that's only talking with her at lunch."
"So what do you think of her?"
"She's nice, sweet. I'd hope to give her some help in fighting tricks and techniques, but with teaching I worry I won't have a chance to."
Sirius nods. I wonder if something else is going on, but I don't worry about it. Instead, I worry about what Minerva will think of me. I'm not one of her Gryffindors anymore. Instead, I'm an outsider, an interloper with no past, and no history to be judged upon. The entirety of our conversation will be the entirety of our meeting.
Really, it's the reason I doubt I'll get the job.
"Don't worry, I'm sure she'll find excuses to visit you when you get the job."
"If I get the job," I reply.
"True," replies Sirius. "I don't think very many people are applying for the post, though. I know my friend James is thinking about it, but… he's trying not to. For personal reasons."
"Like his son?" I ask, giving him a way out.
"Sure, let's say it's his son," says Sirius. I'm sure Severus threatened to quit if James was hired for Transfiguration. I know Lily was good with potions, but I have no idea what masteries she's gotten. From the reading I've done, it's not likely very many. Then again, the Wizarding World is as backwards as it comes. Who knows what she's done with her life?
Either way, Sirius leads me up to an office near the Transfiguration classroom, and it takes everything in me to not ask why we're not headed for the Headmaster's office. The Slytherin side of me puts together more than a few reasons, but I brush them all aside.
"Minerva! I've brought you a victim!" says Sirius, all smiles.
"Mister Black, I would appreciate it if you didn't attempt to frighten all of the applicants."
"I only want what's best of the school, Minerva," replies Sirius. I can tell he's loving being able to address her by her first name.
"Go, Mister Black. Perhaps you should get your classroom in order?"
Sirius rolls his eyes, and leaves, while I enter the office itself.
"And you would be Miss Evans?" asks Minerva.
"That's correct," I reply. "Professor McGonagall, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Tonks has said a fair amount about you."
"Indeed? I'm not surprised. Please, take a seat. I'm curious as to why you applied."
"I'm afraid I didn't have a choice. I mentioned to Miss Tonks I was interested in getting my Mastery in Transfiguration, and also in muggle teaching a week or two ago. Thus, she convinced me I needed to apply for the job, even though I don't have my Mastery yet."
"When were you planning on getting it?" asks Minerva.
"Later this month. I've got a good handle on this wand, now, and I needed to file the paperwork with the ministry and the guild. It might be a little difficult without an O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. in Transfiguration, but I could just take those, as well."
"Why didn't you take the test when you took them for Charms, Potions, and Defence?"
"Because I didn't have a wand at the time, and I'm worthless at Transfiguration without one."
Minerva is silent on this. She clearly wants to ask me how I managed to pass, let alone get an O on my N.E.W.T. subjects without a wand. She is ever the professional, however, and instead keeps the interview on topic.
"I presume with a wand, you consider yourself capable of getting a Mastery?"
"That is correct."
She starts asking me questions about Transfiguration Theory. I know most of it by heart, and try not to mention a few of the theories that have appeared in years yet to occur. Then she leads me into the N.E.W.T.-level classroom, an open space with more than a few objects scattered around it, and asks for demonstrations. She starts basic, object-to-object. I keep things plain and simple, sticking to details like texture and definition, rather than something opulent and ornate. She approves. Then comes living-to-living, when she brings out some sparrows, and she's impressed by the liger, especially in the quality of the fur.
We discuss the abilities and drawbacks of my wand. I consider it for a long moment, before deciding to be honest about being a Parselmouth.
"One odd thing I've found..." I start.
"Yes?" asks the Professor, realising I'm uncomfortable with what I'm about to say.
"My wand's core is a basilisk fang, and I'm a Parselmouth. I've found that all of the animals I transfigure with it are, likewise, Parselmouths."
Minerva stares at me for a long moment.
"Do you know who your parents are, Miss Evans?"
"I do. I am not at liberty to say who they are, however."
"Why not?"
"I was cast out of the family by blood, Professor. I cannot speak of my family, for I have none." Not entirely true, but close enough for government work.
Minerva nods curtly, and considers me for a long moment. I wonder what she... oh, fuck. I think I know who she's thinking of. The slightly curly black hair, the fine bone structure, the absurd levels of self-confidence, all rolled in with speaking Parseltongue? Add the fact that I took Lily's name... well. That'd just be insult to injury, wouldn't it? Well, I'll let her think it. The least it'll do is make sure I don't get the job, right?
"Is that the reason you've claimed yourself a muggleborn, Miss Evans? To distance yourself from your former family?"
"No. It was to distance myself from the Wizarding World entirely," I reply, straight faced and honest. I know her well enough that she doesn't believe a word of it, and there's nothing I can say that'll change that. "I wanted to avoid it, for the most part, for a little while. Get away from it for a while, as it were."
She nods in understanding.
"I do believe Albus would be all about giving second chances, Miss Evans. After what I've seen today, I will be submitting my memory of this interview to the Ministry and the Guild for your Mastery. I have no doubt you will receive it, and as such, I welcome you to the staff of Hogwarts. You start Monday."
FUCK!
Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.
I maintain my composure, thank her, and for the first time in twenty years, really, really want to drink.
0x0x0x0
"Congratulations!" says Tonks, smiling.
I grunt in acknowledgment, reading the Quibbler to take my brain off the lessons plans I'm reading. I'm making notes of what I'd do different, but I'll follow hers in my first year. Get a year under my belt before I decide what truly needs to be changed.
"What? Didn't you say you wanted to teach?" asked Tonks.
"Yes, but I didn't want the most prestigious subject at one of the most prestigious schools in Europe as my first job! I wanted a nice easy job to figure out what I'm doing, then go for the hard stuff!" I sigh.
"Oh," says Tonks, crestfallen and guilty.
"Sorry, I just didn't actually expect to get the job. I shouldn't be surprised, really. It's not the first time I've been thrown into the deep-end and told to swim from the piranha. You said you wanted to see my place, right? Come on." I get up, leave a few coins for Tom, and start heading for the fireplace.
"Really?" she asks, following me.
"Evans' Roost," I say, tossing in the floo powder. The wards ask if I want to allow her, and I say yes. Tonks smiles as she looks around the house. I've mostly been buying furniture and artwork, but the entire second floor is still empty.
"Not bad, for buying it a month ago. A lot of empty shelves, though," she comments.
"Not a lot of books, yet," I reply, leading her out into the yard. "No garden either, and with me at Hogwarts, I'm going to keep it as a clean lawn for now."
Hedwig flies out, and lands on the short grass, a mouse tail hanging out of her mouth.
"Ah, is that a Harpy?" asks Tonks.
"Hedwig, this is Tonks. Tonks, Hedwig. Introductions over, wand out; show me some drills, Auror-Trainee Tonks."
0x0x0x0
I manage to get Tonks home a few hours later via side-along. I wasn't about to trust her crashing through the floo, and instead meet her parents at their place. They quickly force me to stay for dinner, and share a strange look at their overly-tired daughter.
"Tonks, wake up, you're about to eat dinner," I tell her.
"No more," mumbles Tonks, half-asleep. "Can't take anymore."
"We're all done, Tonks. You've escaped my clutches. Now it's time to eat dinner."
"Lemme' sleep."
Her parents are definitely amused by this, and chime in.
"Dora, dear, it's time for dinner."
"Fine," Tonks mumbles, and a second later blitzes awake from the couch. She's muttering and swearing under her breath, and her face is a bright tomato red. Andromeda is giggling like a school girl, while Ted is whistling innocently as we all gather for dinner.
"So what were you up to, all day?"
"I've been anxious about getting a teaching job at Hogwarts, and Tonks gave me a good outlet."
"Remind me to never let you do that, ever again."
"I thought you kept up pretty well in the beginning."
"Maybe the first fifteen minutes! You kept going for another three hours!"
"You have to push past limits," I reply, while her parents are, for lack of a better word, a mixture of aghast (Ted) and amused (Andi)
"What?" I ask.
"Three hours?"
"Yes, I normally train for casting and transfiguration for three hours. Hell, when I first got my wand, I was practicing with it all day long."
Andromeda looks a little sad, Ted looks happy, and Tonks looks even more embarrassed. I'm just confused, myself.
They ask me the expected questions about teaching at Hogwarts.
"Oh, I know I can do it. It's just that I have big shoes to fill. Minerva McGonagall, and Albus Dumbledore before her? There's an expectation. I can either meet that expectation, or I can look for a new job."
I feel like I'm in an actual muggle job interview as Andromeda grills me about what I plan on doing.
"Obviously I'm going to stick with Minerva's lesson plans. I'm not going to rebuild seven years of lesson plans over a weekend. I'll likely modify it a little over the year, but if I still have the job next year, then I'll definitely start changing the lesson plans."
"You really think you can do this?" asks Tonks, finally realising just how much trouble she may or may not have gotten me into.
"I wouldn't have applied if I didn't think I could do it."