I rested my head sideways against the window frame and studied my face reflected in the glass.
My transformed blue eyes were concealed by my pointed hat. Only the lower part of my face, from the nose down, was visible. Alone in the compartment, I lifted the transformation of my eyes without worry. Once more I checked the sealed image of myself but, my golden eyes remained successfully veiled.
Through my pointed hat, which I held a little lower than usual, I was able to use the abilities of my Inner Gift openly. My Metamorphmagus abilities did not conceal my normally golden eyes whenever I actively used my Inner Gift.
In my mind I went through my current magical abilities once more:
—Telekinesis
—Legilimency; I can sense the emotions of people in my near vicinity.
—Metamorphmagus; I can alter my outward appearance — the color of my skin, hair, eyes, nails. Changing my body structure or musculature still lies in the future. At the orphanage, I focused heavily on controlling my Metamorph powers. Suddenly looking different without the ability to reverse it would have been a death sentence in the Muggle world.
—My Inner Gift: The Eyes of Destiny allows one to "see" the time, occasion, and cause of death of a person.
Further abilities include seeing the magical particles in the air, as well as the type of magical particle. If I reinforce this magical sight with magical power, I can learn what kind of Inner Gift a wizard possesses. I can also see the faint glow of a soul around that person. I suspect, though, that this view of the soul will become clearer in the future, once I can channel more magical power into my magical sight.
From the window I watched the families and searched for a victim whose Inner Gift I could examine.
A loud, red-haired family of nine, which caught my eye, made me reconsider my decision — to learn the Inner Gift of a Muggle-born. The notorious Weasley family was better suited for this attempt. After all, one of Harry Potter's best friends was Ronald Weasley; other members of the Weasley family, like the twins Fred and George Weasley, were also often mentioned, one could say that through the Weasleys, Harry Potter came close to feeling a sense of familial love.
That made it all the more interesting what Inner Gifts the Weasleys had.
In total there were five wizards in their family who were 11 or older, and thus had had their Inner Gift awakened: Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley née Prewett, William Weasley, Charlie Weasley, and Percy Weasley.
Professor McGonagall hadn't explained to me in detail how Inner Gifts were awakened. Why they appeared exactly at the eleventh year of life. Or whether the type of Inner Gift was connected to one's parents, thus, a hereditary trait? That raised further questions about whether magic operates on a molecular level, and so on... Ah, I'd drifted off in my thoughts again...
I checked the position of my pointed hat once more and focused on the Weasley family, who were already saying their goodbyes.
Almost reflexively, I let a large amount of magical power flow into my eyes, which turned them golden. I concentrated on the magical auras around the Weasley family, which grew more detailed with every second. As if reaching a turning point, my magical sight stopped improving no matter how much I increased the flow of magical power. Based on my previous experience, I would need to triple the amount of magical power to catch a glimpse of a soul on a person. And that was an enormous amount for me, since this current action alone had already used up a quarter of my magical reserves.
Without wasting any more time or magical reserves, I studied Arthur Weasley's magical aura, which shimmered a reddish bronze. On an instinctive level, I understood, or rather saw, which Inner Gift Arthur Weasley possessed.
It was called: Hand of Heat. A wizard with this Gift could produce sparks or fire by rubbing his hand. In addition, his right hand had a high resistance to high temperatures. He could put his hand into a burning flame without any trouble. As I observed Arthur Weasley's body more closely, I could indeed see in his magical aura that his right hand shimmered intensely reddish with magical particles.
Next I examined Percy Weasley. Lie and Truth, his Inner Gift could literally detect truth and lies. Fairly simple. His mother had a similar Gift: *Command of Truth: when active, she could force people to answer only with the truth.
William Weasley, also called Bill, possessed an improved version of his father's ability: Body of Heat. Its functions, as well as the resistance to temperature, were spread across his entire body. Charlie Weasley possessed a rather absurd Inner Gift called: Soles of Fire, it let him create fire on his feet, which meant he could theoretically fly like a rocket through pure repulsion.
With my magical reserves down to 10 percent of their original capacity, I withdrew the flow of magical power leading to my eyes. With two percent of my magical reserves, I let my golden eyes turn dark blue again.
With new thoughts in mind, I watched the Weasley children board the Hogwarts Express.
Arthur Weasley possesses an Inner Gift that is generally related to fire, heat, and high temperatures; some of his children possess similar or more developed Inner Gifts. For example, Bill and Charlie Weasley. Molly Weasley possesses: Command of Truth, a Gift connected to the mind, or rather to truth. Percy Weasley's Gift, Lie and Truth, was logically inherited from his mother and not his father.
It's clear, then, that the general direction of an Inner Gift is influenced by biological inheritance. However, an exact replica of a parent's Inner Gift in a child does to my knowledge not occur. A telling example can be seen in Charlie Weasley. He has the Inner Gift: Soles of Fire, which gives him the ability to fly using repulsion, compared to his father, who can produce sparks by rubbing his right hand, these abilities are very different, yet still share a common ground.
Honestly, I had expected the Weasleys to have more spectacular Inner Gifts. Arthur Weasley's Inner Gift in particular leaves a lot to be desired. I mean, he can basically light his cigarette by snapping his fingers...
I'm sure I'll be able to do that wandlessly too, in a few months...
Well, Ron Weasley was in no way a magical genius in the book series, unlike Hermione Granger, Lily Evans, or even Tom Marvolo Riddle. Maybe his laziness in magical disciplines had cursed his family, in reality, with useless Inner Gifts.
Okay, maybe not...quite so useless. Being a humanoid rocket or a human lie detector certainly has its uses, right?
The tenth hour soon struck. Young witches and wizards fled into the Express; they leaned out of the compartment windows and waved goodbye to their parents. Surprisingly, my compartment remained empty except for myself, an occurrence that left me torn.
On one hand, I truly despise social interactions in the truest sense of the word. If I had the choice to live the rest of my life as a hermit in a forest, isolated from the outside world, or in a big city with such daily hardships, I would choose the former without hesitation.
Despising social interactions naturally had a deeper cause. In my younger years, when I had only very limited control over my Metamorphmagus abilities, holding a conversation without changing my hair, eyes, or skin color was a Herculean task.
Over the years, I began to be unable to stand social interactions of any kind. Of course, my control over my shapeshifting abilities was now impeccable, and an unintended transformation of my appearance happened only very rarely.
Despite all that, this almost irrational hatred had rooted itself deeply within me. Any social interaction not related to my interests, such as magic, was, in principle, simply: bullshit.
Anyway, in my situation, being an orphan who knows little (not counting my meta-knowledge) about the wizarding world, I could question my fellow passengers. Unfortunately and fortunately, none of my schoolmates seemed to want to enter my compartment.
Tcht-Tchoooot!!
The train whistled loudly. It slowly picked up speed and accelerated. The Hogwarts Express plunged deep downward through a tunnel, its speed easily exceeding 250 km/h. A normal steam engine wouldn't manage that, regular Muggle steam engines reach up to about 120- km/h...
Well, this was definitely no ordinary train.
After three-quarters of an hour, the concentration of magical particles in the surroundings increased.
The Hogwarts Express reached the surface again. Only this time we were no longer in the center of London, but out in nature. Vast, wide, sky-blue meadows that looked very much like magical flora stretched for miles. With my enhanced sight I even saw a few deer that looked very much like magical creatures.
The pair of magical deer were startled by the monstrous thing that was belching steam. With their powerful hind legs, they fled in high, wide leaps, easily more than ten meters, away from the Hogwarts Express. With my magical sight, I watched the magical aura of the "deer" until it vanished from my field of view.
"Fascinating," I murmured.
Another spectacle wasn't long in coming.
Out of clouds that had begun forming from nowhere came a herd of winged, pure-white horses. These magical creatures, resembling the Pegasi of Greek mythology, glided down with their enormous wingspans toward a stream flowing to the south. A rainbow began to form in the sky.
Abraxans, if I wasn't mistaken. These winged horses were introduced in the fourth book, the Goblet of Fire. These magical creatures — simply put, giant horses with wings that allow them to fly. Their danger classification ranges from X.X to X.X.X.X This danger classification was introduced by the Ministry to categorize magical creatures, and thereby specify the level of danger they pose to wizards.
With my passive magical sight, I studied the Abraxans, who were already greedily drinking from the stream.
"Breathtaking, isn't it?" a female voice interrupted me.
Strange, I hadn't heard the compartment door open...
I slowly turned my head. A witch stood in my compartment; her witch's robe had a Slytherin emblem stitched on the left side of her chest. On the right side of her chest was another emblem, reading: 'Prefect: Aurora Rosier'.
Rosier? A member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families.
The witch, who had slipped into my compartment without a sound, had her gaze fixed out the window. Her brown hair hung loose, spread somewhat wild over her high cheekbones, which alone would have marked her instantly as an aristocratic witch. Brown eyes, holding the shimmer of an illusory color, watched the herd in wonder.
"Indeed, those are them. Is this your first time seeing Abraxans?" I said, turning to the witch.
The train moved on, and the herd vanished from our field of view. Aurora Rosier turned to me.
"Yes, in Care of Magical Creatures we've never seen them face to face. It seems this herd has migrated to Great Britain. Oh, forgive my carelessness, Aurora Rosier, a pleasure." She placed her elegant right hand on her chest and inclined her head slightly.
"Mordret Noir, likewise." I lifted my wizard's hat, revealing the upper half of my face.
"Noir?" she said thoughtfully, pronouncing my surname with a French accent. It seemed she'd been schooled in that language. Ollivander had instantly recognized me, based on my appearance alone, as a descendant of the Black family. Even the very first person on the Hogwarts Express I spoke to suspected, just from my surname: Noir, which means "Black" in French, that I was a descendant of the infamous pure-blood family.
Professor McGonagall hadn't said a word about it. Either she hadn't suspected it, though that seemed unlikely, since she had taught my potential father, Sirius Black, at Hogwarts. Even if he isn't my father, certain similarities in my outward features should be recognizable. Combined with my surname, it takes only a little intelligence and knowledge of languages to reach the conclusion that Mordret Noir should, in truth, be named Mordret Black.
It seems I'll have to change my plans...
"Any connections to the Black family?" Aurora Rosier raised her right eyebrow with interest.
I looked out the window and answered.
"I have no idea whatsoever. With my surname, though, it isn't unusual for people to associate me with...the Black family. Mr. Ollivander even brought it up himself and mistook me for a Black. I'm merely an orphan, however, and I have no knowledge of who my parents are..."
Aurora, with a finger thoughtfully resting on her lips, asked: "Hm, interesting. I take it you haven't had an Inheritance Test performed at Gringotts?"
An Inheritance Test, at Gringotts? The equivalent of a DNA test should surely, at first glance, be better handled at a hospital. St. Mungo's would seem the more sensible choice...
"No, not yet. Do you happen to know how much an Inheritance Test at Gringotts costs?"
"It should be around 50 Galleons, if I remember correctly. With goblins, though, the price is never fixed, so I'd expect a higher sum in your case. Hm, maybe...50 to 65 Galleons, yes, roughly that amount should now cost for a Class I Ritual."
A Class I Ritual? So not a classic DNA test, but a ritual. A Class I Ritual... Are goblins specialists when it comes to rituals, then?
I was pulled from my thoughts by Aurora Rosier. Absentmindedly, I put my wizard's hat back on; my eyes disappeared beneath its veil once more.
"As a prefect, I've been assigned to inform some of the first-years that we'll be arriving at Hogwarts soon, and that you should put on your robes. You can leave your luggage on the train; house-elves will bring it to your future room. Well, your future classmates are waiting for me, we'll see each other at Hogwarts..." She moved toward the compartment door; just before the prefect closed it, she added: "...hopefully in Slytherin!"
Just before her figure vanished, I activated the main ability of my Inner Gift for the second time in my life. My eyes flashed golden before the perception of the world changed.
Thousands upon thousands of threads, woven throughout reality, clung around Aurora Rosier's form. The number of threads multiplied exponentially the longer I looked. They were everywhere — in every direction, in my compartment, outside my window, in the train's lavatories, in other compartments, everywhere, present in a silvery color.
A single golden thread, stretching from my compartment to Aurora outside the door, drew my gaze as if by a siren's call. I noticed that the thread represented the exact path Aurora had walked in the past. The thread continued beyond her present position. From compartment to compartment the golden thread ran, before it led out beyond.
The realisation sent chills through me and an incredible shudder overtook me. It was not difficult to deduce what this was from the name of my inner gift.
Is this fate? Is this the so-called great tapestry of destiny?
As if it had heard my thoughts, Aurora Rosier followed exactly the predetermined path that the golden thread symbolized. Suddenly my vision distorted, and the magnetic pull the golden thread exerted became unavoidable. I was catapulted down along the golden thread as if flung by a roller coaster.
Blurred images, sounds, and smells washed over me. Thousands upon thousands of experiences became part of me, which I only perceived at the edges. This information flew past me without my being able to grasp even the slightest part of it. The speed kept increasing further, until the blurred images turned into a bright white, and the sounds became a shrill tone that not even Alan Turing could have begun to decrypt. From the sheer volume of information, I began to lose consciousness from overstimulation.
After an unknown span of time, the images vanished. A clear picture formed.
[3rd February 1992, 11:35 PM, Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons]
"Mentis Crucio!!" A young woman, dressed in a robe that couldn't hide her blonde hair, screamed the unforgivable curse once again. A red beam of pure magical power shot lightning-fast from the white wand and flew toward Aurora Rosier, who lay trembling on the floor.
"Aaaaaargggh! N-no, stop-p, please, no, no— Uuuuuuaaaaaaaaarggh! No, I-I d-didn't mean to, I sw- Aaaaaargghhh!!"
The unforgivable curse the blonde woman had cast came to an abrupt stop. A melodic voice rang out: "Aurora, Aurora, for the...5th time, answer my question: what do you know about the Department of Mysteries in magical Britain?"
The blonde woman bent down and reached for Aurora, who still lay trembling on the ground. Her manicured hand seized her face. Long fingernails dug into her skin. Tears flowed out of her eyes.
"Aurora, *n-n*, don't you dare deny it. It's known even here in France that you want to become an Unspeakable. With your mother as Vice-Senior Unspeakable President, only one rank below to the notorious Gareth Greengrass, you might well have managed to become one. Oh, don't look so surprised, the organization I belong to could crush your pathetic British Ministry like a miserable insect... Now, where were we? Ah yes, of course, the Department of Mysteries. You, Aurora Rosier, possess an Inner Gift that could rival the third Deathly Hallow — surely you couldn't resist the ahhh, temptation... Besides, a little bird in your Ministry chirped to me that a young lady broke into one of the most secure places in the world. Heh, now who could that be? Picked up quite a few things in there, hm?"
For a few moments, the dark hall was silent.
"Ok, ok-k, ok — I'll tell y-you. J-just...no more of those, Merlin...of those modified Cruciatus curses...please..."
"Very well, speak," the veiled woman replied.
Aurora spoke, trembling, with a faint grin: "May you rot in hell for eternity with your cunt-mistress!"
"What?" the blonde replied, startled, without registering the insult.
"IMPETU LATUS BOMBARDA!"
KAAAAAAA—BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!
Aurora Rosier suddenly imploded her magical power inward, upon herself. Within a 25-meter radius, all matter was reduced to gray ash. Neither she nor her torturer could be found. Only red flames slowly spreading through the surroundings remained.
On the 4th of February 1992, at 0:02 AM, Aurora Rosier died at seventeen, from a self-inflicted magical implosion.
[1st September 1989, 11:47 AM, Hogwarts Express, Hogsmeade]
Slowly, my awareness returned. The rising pain in my eyes made me rub my temples.
"Fuck, that hurts."
I won't even mention the nausea and the rising urge to bring up my nonexistent breakfast. I looked out the window with narrowed eyes. The changed landscape suggested that I had been unconscious for more than just a brief moment. Turning my eyes back to their usual blue color made my body ache.
A quick check of my reserves confirmed my suspicion. I suffered from magical exhaustion. That hadn't changed from the first time, either.
My second experience activating the main ability of my Inner Gift proved more informative than my first.
For one, I didn't see those...cursed threads at the beginning this time. Nor a rollercoaster ride along a golden thread into the chosen person's future.
It might be that I need to engage more deeply with my Inner Gift, and that I can discover further new properties. After all, I've only had it for a little over a day...
Lost in thought over Aurora Rosier's destiny, I watched the landscape.
A loud voice, booming through the entire Hogwarts Express, interrupted my thoughts.
"Good evening, dear students. We have arrived! Please, as every year, leave your luggage on the Hogwarts Express so the house-elves can carry it to your rooms. First-years, please follow Mr. Hagrid, the gamekeeper and Keeper of Keys and Grounds, who will lead you to the Sorting Ceremony. And don't worry — you won't miss him!"
A little dizzy, I stood up and opened the compartment door. Magical signatures of all kinds swirled around and colored my field of vision. The students were chatting with their friends.
Having left the Hogwarts Express, a loud voice came from the left.
"First-years! This way! I'll lead you to the Sorting Ceremony!"
The speaker was a three-and-a-half-meter-tall man, or rather half-giant. His woolly, full beard covered most of his face.
His feet looked like tall tree trunks. His hands, which held a lantern a meter tall and easily weighing half a ton, frightened some of the first-years.
Rubeus Hagrid, I thought.
I moved toward Hagrid, weaving through the students approaching me.
A crowd of first-years had gathered around Hagrid, staring at him in awe, fear, and even a little disgust.
Whispers sounded.
"Merlin, have you seen him?"
"Holy Morgana, which hole did he crawl out of?"
"A half-giant! He's a half-giant."
"A half-giant, you say? How's that even supposed to work, dude?!"
Meanwhile, I had quietly joined the group of first-years.
"Is everyone here?" his booming voice thumped in my ears.
A quiet confirmation sounded.
"Good! All to the boats, and remember, no more than four!"
The group quickly dispersed and most ran in a panic toward the boats.
Being one of the last to arrive at the boats, I boarded the last one.
The boat rocked a little as I climbed in.
On board were a boy and a girl.
The girl had jet-black hair paired with navy-blue eyes that projected a mask of neutrality. Her high, sharp cheekbones only reinforced that impression. To my right stood a boy with pale blonde hair and ruby-red eyes. A slight grin adorned his lips.
The swaying of the boat pulled me from my thoughts. A cheerful voice sounded:
"Umm...hello everyone, I'm Cedric Diggory, nice to meet you all."
"Since we're going to be spending seven years together, I hope we'll get along well!"
***
[Words:3687]
[A/N: I changed the age at which someone can become a prefect: 15 years → 14 years]
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