Chapter 54 - The Girl Who Burned by Mad_Iron_Karl part 1

Summary:Hazel Potter's fourth year at Hogwarts and the preceding summer, bringing even more bullshit right from the start. So much bullshit, you don't even know.

Special thanks to DontStopHerNow and A_Achilles for helping to kick this mess into shape!

Notes:Take heed that this chapter contains description and discussion of a young lady's first period. I don't personally think its very explicit, but even so, don't say you weren't warned.

Chapter 1: JardinièreChapter TextSummer in Little Whinging never changed. Dry lawns, bored kids, suspicious housewives and narrow-minded husbands; all the hallmarks of upper-middle-class British suburbia, in other words. The husbands went to work, came home, furtively mowed or watered the lawn at night and pretended the other husbands weren't doing the same; the wives gathered for tea, or birthdays, or really any excuse to gossip and talk each other down; the kids started little gangs and staked out this or that alleyway or tunnel against the other kids and their little gangs.

In the midst of all this comfortable normalcy, the Dursley family, of 4 Privet Drive, took comfort in being as aggressively and fastidiously normal as anyone else. The husband, Vernon, took great pride in his lawn being green and lush, and he made a point of shoving his water bills under the nose of anyone who dared question it, to prove he wasn't using more water than he should have been. And with the water he saved by not watering his lawn, why, he could keep his ostentatious green sedan at peak cleanliness with weekly ablutions!

And the wife, Petunia, took great pride in her garden being the brightest of them all, all the roses and agapanthuses and pansies providing a refreshing riot of color and greenery to match their deep green lawn. Her little gossip society met in her backyard more than anyone else's, and she thrived on being the unofficial queen of the social pyramid.

Meanwhile, their son, Dudley, was nearly as large as his father and barely even fourteen! Two years of boxing and self defense had honed him into a husky young man indeed; all that focus on the physical meant he had fallen behind in his academics, but his parents were proud of him anyway.

But when anyone questioned the reason for their lawn to be so healthy, Vernon and Petunia both had a habit of going quite deaf until the questioner changed the subject. Because the real reason for their suburban prosperity was due to their niece, Hazel Potter, being a witch. A confident young witch with a powerful wand, three racing brooms, a trunk full of spell books and fancy wizarding clothes, and no shame at all about standing at her window in the dead of night and casting spells over the lawn and garden to keep everything green and blooming.

She could still remember the conversation at the start of the summer, hardly a week ago…

"Home again!" Vernon declared, pulling into his driveway at last. "Get your rubbish upstairs, Hazel, then come back down so we can talk."

"Yes sir," she replied, hefting her owl cage and her trunk and dragging them behind her. "What's up with them, Duds?" she asked her cousin as he grabbed the other end of her trunk to get it up the stairs.

"Probably the yard," he responded, easily hefting the bulky container. "It died after you left last year, and they're pretty sure you had something to do with it."

"How awful." They brought the trunk into her room and set it at the foot of her bed, and Dudley left to go to his own room. Meanwhile, Hazel put the cage on the dresser, but paused when she noticed the fish bowl was empty. "Aw man."

She went back downstairs, where her aunt and uncle were waiting in the dining room. "What happened to the fish, Aunt Petunia?"

"It- it died, Hazel," she responded tersely, trying to look at least vaguely sympathetic. "You knew it was getting old, didn't you?"

"I suppose. Can I have an apple?" No one said no, so she grabbed a bright golden apple, rinsed it off and bit into it. "Mm, my favorite."

"Now see here, girl, about the lawn!" Vernon cut in aggressively, though about half what he was capable of. "You'd think we wouldn't notice it had died after you left last year? What'd you DO to it?"

She heaved a sigh and sat down. "I didn't kill it, if that's what you're implying," she said tartly. "If you must know, I was keeping it alive the whole time I was here. Every night I'd stand at the window and cast spells to-"

"Alright, alright!" he shouted, going slightly purple in the face while Petunia winced and hissed. Hazel fought the urge to roll her eyes, and bit into her apple instead; how could they still be so jumpy about magic?

"So, you thought you'd be cute, did you?" he went on after he got hold of himself again. "Thought you'd bring your nonsense out and practice, did you?"

"Uncle Vernon, I was trying to do you a favor, that was all," she replied innocently. "I know you both love having the greenest lawn and the best garden in the neighborhood, and you won't get that the Muggle way. Not in this heat."

"The what way?" Vernon blustered.

"It's their word for people like us, Vernon," Petunia whispered, hardly moving her lips. "Normal people."

He shifted and growled and muttered under his breath, and Hazel didn't bother trying to listen in. She just finished her apple and got up to put the core in the recycling. "Thank you for the apple, Aunt Petunia," and she bowed. "May I go now?"

"No you ruddy well can't, sit down!" Vernon said heatedly, thumping the table with his palm. "What about the lawn! And the flowers?!"

"What about them? Surely you don't need me doing my nonsense to your lawn, do you?" She sat down again and leaned back, letting him stew and simmer and stammer. "Just spit it out, Uncle Vernon, please? Just get it over with and say whatever it is you have to say, it'll be alright."

"Don't be cheeky with me, girl," he growled, calming down slightly. "No one found out last year, they don't need to find out this year, right?"

That made her raise her eyebrows in feigned shock. "What's in it for me? Last year I was happy to do it without anyone noticing, and I know you were happy with the results. But now you know and it'll be awkward and stuff if I keep doing it, so why should I keep doing it?"

Vernon took a deep breath, and his face turned red again, but Petunia stalled him with a hand on his arm. "Don't you blackmail us, you ungrateful brat!" she hissed. "You think you can sit there, bold as brass and do nothing around here to earn your keep?"

"Dudley doesn't do anything," Hazel pointed out. "Are you really gonna try and force me to do magic?"

They winced at that word, just like wizards winced at the mention of Voldemort, and Hazel had to try not to laugh. "Look, at the end of August is something called the Quidditch World Cup, it's a huge sporting event and everyone's gonna be there. If you let me leave for it when the time comes, and don't make a fuss about me practicing and doing homework in my bedroom over the summer, then I'll keep the lawn and garden nice and green and lush for you. Will that be fine?"

Vernon and Petunia looked at each other, silently arguing as the need to stand out from their neighbors argued with the need to not let Hazel have anything nice or to have any kind of fun. Eventually the lawn won, and Vernon slumped back in the chair. "Fine, girl, have it your way! But if that lawn slips up at all you're not going anywhere until September, got it?!"

"Understood, sir." She stood up again. "Was that everything?"

"Get out!" Petunia snarled. "I don't want to see you again until dinner time!"

Since then she could have restored the yard in an instant, but she didn't want it to be too obvious so she spaced it out over a few nights, and now they had an award-winning yard all over again. And she, for the price of twenty minutes at the window every night, had the whole summer all to herself to do whatever she wanted.

For now, 'whatever she wanted' consisted of doing her homework and playing around outside, or hanging out with Dudley and his pals. Which mostly consisted of riding bikes up and down the streets and picking on little kids, and sometimes a card game or two when the tunnels weren't being fought over by other kids.

They even ran into Jessica and her little posse once, and Hazel was surprised to see that she was, for the first time in her life, taller than the other girl. "Been a while, hasn't it?" she called out, crossing her arms and gazing levelly at her old tormentor.

"Oh look, it's Lady Potty!" she taunted back, going to square up. "Look at you! Trying to be as big of a cow as your cousin back there?"

"Hey!" Dudley growled, stepping up.

"Easy, Duds, I got this," she murmured, putting out a hand to stop him. "I can't help it if I'm better than you at everything, Jessica. I kicked your ass before even with all your little friends backing you up, and I can damn well do it again right the fuck here and now!"

Whatever false bravado Jessica might have had was no match for Hazel's honest confidence in herself. She saw it in the girl's eyes, the exact moment she realized they were as outmatched now as they had been before. "Whatever, like I've got time to mess with you! Let's go, girls!" and she strutted off, dragging her 'friends' along with her.

"See?" Hazel relaxed and smirked at Dudley. "She's nothing to worry over."

"What if she comes back when we're not there?" Piers asked.

"Then I'll show them how hard we've been practicing," she replied. The lot of them were in boxing and martial arts now, but no one went as hard as Hazel and Dudley did. Sometimes they even fought each other, though they both held back when that happened.

All in all, it was a decent summer break, until the evening she was in the bathroom and found blood in her knickers. She froze up at the sight, and her mind panicked as it sought a reason for why she was bleeding into her underthings. "Period," she muttered, getting a grip on herself with Occlumency. "It's, it's just your period, nothing to- nothing to fret about."

She finished using the toilet and washed off, then wrapped a towel around herself and went to the door. "Aunt Petunia? Aunt Petunia, can you come up here, please?"

A few moments later, her bony aunt came up the stairs. "What is it, Hazel?" she asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

"It, um." She felt herself blushing, and gestured frantically for her to come into the bathroom. "I'm bleeding, Aunt Petunia! From down there!" she whispered.

Petunia looked up, saw the little red stain on the inside of her knickers. "You should soak them in cold water as soon as you see it, you know," she said after a few moments, crossing the room and running the sink. She pinched the soiled article and dropped it into the water once it was full enough. "Does it hurt? Do you feel strange?"

"No, I- I didn't feel anything different at all," Hazel replied nervously.

"Hm." For a moment they regarded each other carefully, then Petunia sighed. "Wait here, I'll get a pad and some clean underwear for you."

"Okay. They're still in the top drawer." 

Her aunt left, and hardly a minute went by before she came back in. "Wipe yourself off, first. Now, this is probably too big, but you won't need it more than a day or so, alright?" She showed Hazel how to put it on, and when everything was where it had to be, she felt a lot better. "Do you… do you need me to explain what all this means?"

"Er." She was sure she already knew, but it'd be best to make sure, instead of relying on hearsay. "Yes, please, Aunt Petunia."

"Alright. Not in here, though." She opened the door and went downstairs, and Hazel followed.

"Everything alright?" Vernon asked, looking up from the TV.

"Yes, it's under control. Both of you need to stay in here until Hazel and I come back in. We need to have a woman's talk." Dudley and Vernon both blanched and looked away at that; Petunia rolled her eyes and beckoned Hazel onward, and they stepped out into the back yard, where they sat down and breathed the fresh garden air in. "So, the reason you're bleeding is…"

It went on for a while, Petunia explaining things in a clinical manner and Hazel absorbing as much as she could. She didn't say that most of this would never apply to her, since she was into girls; she really doubted this tenuous new peace would last much longer after thatcame out.

"...so basically, don't sleep around, make your partners wear protection, and always wash off," Petunia eventually summarized. "Do you understand?"

Why was it her job to make sure her partners put a rubber on? Hazel wondered. Outwardly she nodded. "Yes, Aunt, thank you."

"See that you don't forget, either." They went back inside, and went about the rest of their evening in peace.

Before bed that night, Hazel wrote a letter to Madam Pomfrey:

Dear Madam Pomfrey,

I just had my first period this evening. I know Muggles have pads and things, so surely witches must have some way of handling this. Can you send me something?

Hazel Jade Potter

"Take this to the hospital wing, Hedwig," she whispered, waking her owl with a treat and a gentle caress. Hedwig hooted at her and held still while she tied the roll to her leg, then took off out the window on silent wings. She watched her fly off, then went about her nightly routine.

Chapter 2: Arts & CraftsSummary:Hazel and her relatives go shopping.

Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextHazel woke up very early, as had become her habit, and no sooner had she put her glasses on than there came a tapping at the window. It was Hedwig! She let her in and gave her another treat, and she hooted sleepily, sticking her foot out so she could get the reply and a small package off.

She made sure her owl had some water and was safe in her cage before opening the letter:

Thank you for writing to me, Miss Potter. 

Keep taking those pills, they'll regulate what's going on and make it bearable. I've included a special pad as well, it'll absorb the monthly bleeding and stick in place, and a simple Wiping Charm will get rid of the blood at the end of the day! Just stick it to your knickers and it'll do the rest!

No need to write back, let that lovely owl of yours rest.

See you in September,

Poppy

Hazel giggled at how easy it was, and while getting dressed she tried the new pad. It fit much better, so she got rid of the old one and went about her day.

Even while taking it easy, the summer assignments were hardly a challenge, and she finished them within a week. Which left her more time to fool around outside, or deal with the self-defense classes she was still attending with Dudley. She didn't need swimming lessons anymore, since she could swim like a fish now, but she still hung out at the pool as much as possible considering the heat.

It was nothing like the lake at Hogwarts, of course, but she'd make do.

In spite of herself, she was having fun, but she still yearned for the day when someone would come to collect her for the World Cup. She wanted to be back among wizards again! Where she could use her wand and be open about what she really was! Furtively casting minor cantrips at night was all well and good, but nothing compared to a solid duel with the twins, or a long study session with Hermione.

A couple weeks into July and she was going stir-crazy. But what would happen if she left early and the yard died? She considered writing to Professor Sprout, who she was sure would have some solution, but the thought of the lecture she'd get about enabling Muggles and using magic outside class put her off the idea. She'd just have to persevere, that was all. Occlumency helped, as did the occasional letter to or from her friends.

She had cut back her newspaper subscription over the summer, only taking the Sunday Prophet once a week. Lately all it could talk about was the Malfoy divorce; Narcissa was taking Lucius for everything he had, and by all accounts she had every law on her side to do it. He had, after all, put his own son at risk through his antics, through his refusal to give up servitude to a dead Dark Lord.

But was he really dead? She wondered this sometimes, especially when she'd wake up in the middle of the night after vague dreams which made her scar tingle. After the second time it happened she decided a letter to Snape was in order:

Professor,

I've been having strange dreams lately despite focusing on Occlumency before bed, dreams that wake me up in the middle of the night with my scar tingling. Is this related to Voldemort? Is there some other trick to Occlumency that could help me remember the dreams without disturbing my rest?

Thanks in advance,

Hazel

She had a reply before lunch that day, and as usual she had to squint to read his cramped handwriting:

Miss Potter,

There are indeed different methods of focusing before sleep that would allow you to capture the dream and recall it in the morning. Imagine a small gap in your defenses just behind your eyes. Imagine a net or valve in front of the gap that can seal off, imagine the walls surrounding this gap are as tough as any barrier in your mind's fortress.

If prepared correctly, the valve will trap the dream before it can fade away, and when you awaken in the morning you can review it at your leisure by opening the valve and peering through. The timing of these dreams and the events of May and June are no coincidence; the Headmaster and I are quite interested in the content of these dreams. Write back with your recollections as soon as you can.

Good luck

S. Snape

"Interesting," she thought to herself, staring at the wall. But she didn't have time to focus inward right then; Aunt Petunia and her friends were getting ready to visit a crafts fair being hosted on Magnolia Crescent that afternoon, and she was taking Hazel and Dudley along. She put her best Muggle skirt and shirt and trainers on, and went downstairs to meet the others.

"What do you think they'll have over there, Duds?" she asked of Dudley as they all trooped out the front door.

"I dunno, but I heard they're over from America so it might be Indian things?" he replied with a shrug. "I'll make sure Mum gets you something, don't worry."

"Cool." She tuned out the chatter of the bored housewives around her, and busied herself by discreetly checking them out instead.

They cut through an alleyway and a field full of cars and trucks and trailers, and were on Magnolia Crescent; several booths were set up and a crowd was already occupied wandering from booth to booth, and the smell of carnival food filled the air. Somewhere there was a live band playing, but it couldn't quite drown out the noise of the crowd. It was a little overwhelming for Hazel, but she kept her head and stuck close to Dudley and Petunia.

Dudley wanted to get some snacks, so he led the way to the food area, and Petunia bought hot dogs and sodas for them to munch on. Then they wandered about, taking in the sights; as Dudley had heard it was mostly Native American stuff, which Hazel was surprised would be so popular in the quiet suburbs of Little Whinging.

"Aunt Petunia, why didn't they set up in Greater Whinging?" she asked.

"I surely have no idea," Petunia replied, preoccupied picking out some turquoise earrings.

Hazel shrugged and picked out a necklace for herself, one with a green stone as the centerpiece. "It looks lovely on ye, lass," the hawker said with a smile, and she smiled back before winking at Dudley; he took his cue and grabbed a sort of bracelet that seemed like it would fit around his meaty wrists, and while they were dealing with that Hazel looked to the next stall.

It was selling strange feathered nets, she noticed. Curious, she went closer, and the hawker grinned. "Wotcher, lassie!" 

Lassie? Hazel thought, cocking an eyebrow. Whatever. "What are these?"

"Dreamcatchers, they'll keep the nightmares away! Supposedly," was the cheerful answer.

That sounded handy! Even if they were superstition, she felt like having one would make her more confident at night. "Cool, how do they work?"

"Ya just hang it on yer headboard or from the ceiling, like," the hawker explained succinctly.

"Sounds simple enough, how much for one?"

The hawker opened her mouth, but shut it again and peered more closely at Hazel, particularly her scar. "Hrm. Free of charge fer you, Potter, ya look like ya need one more than I need a couple quid." She picked out a small, simple one and handed it to her. "Put an owl feather on and it'll work even better, yeah?"

Was she another witch? Hazel wondered, peering more closely at the hawker. She had brown eyes and mousy hair and an unremarkable face, though, and she found herself forgetting her features even before she looked away from them. "Thanks, ma'am," she said with a smile, taking the dreamcatcher. This wasn't so bad! Cool jewelry, good food and free stuff, what could be better?

An hour later, after Petunia bought more knick-knacks, they returned to Privet Drive, and Hazel went up to her room. As luck would have it, Hedwig had shed a feather, so she plucked it from the cage and stuck it through the dreamcatcher before putting a thumbtack through the headboard to hang it from. "Perfect! I think."

After that she had time to rearrange her mental fortress according to Snape's instructions, and on a whim she imagined a dreamcatcher like the one she had above her bed. She was just putting the finishing touches when Petunia called her down for dinner, and she went to eat with a spring in her step.

She couldn't deny a vague sense of trepidation that night before bed, and compensated for it with extra pull ups and things during her routine; she would have liked to push herself until she was sore, but even she knew that wouldn't come easily. She also took more time focusing on Occlumency before she drifted off, hoping in spite of the unease that a real banger of a nightmare would try and wake her up…

Notes:This wasn't much of a chapter, I might update earlier next week to make up for it.

Chapter 3: Nightmarish PastimeSummary:Hazel gets a glimpse of what's in store, but doesn't have time to dwell on it. There are bullies to put in their place!

Take heed that this chapter contains scenes of bullying, as well as a mention of rape in a flashback.

Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextAfter a sound night's sleep Hazel woke up, and she knew instantly that a dream had been trapped inside her head. She lay in bed at first, eyes closed, focused on her inner fortress; there was a warmth coming from the new dream trap, and carefully she opened the valve…

(Screaming, a woman screaming, a blonde man grunting and panting… The watcher, a formless entity hovering in midair…)

(The man grunts louder, the woman falls silent, sobbing and shivering… The watcher drifts closer, passes through her body…)

(Another man forces potions down her throat, flicks a stick of wood… A stray beam of moonlight illuminates their faces…)

"Lockhart and Pettigrew," Hazel growled, as the dream ended and she drew back. What just happened? What had she seen? She had no doubt Voldemort was involved; had he been the formless, ghostly watcher? Who was the woman?

She went to her desk, reached for parchment and pen:

Professor,

Last night I had a dream of Lockhart raping a woman, then Peter Pettigrew forcing her to take unfamiliar potions and casting spells on her while a formless, ghostly presence drifted through her body. I'm pretty sure the presence was Voldemort. I didn't recognize the woman, but I'm sure she's been kidnapped or some such.

She paused, wondering what to write next. She looked at the dream again, looking for more details, trying to decide what perspective she was seeing it from. A building of some kind, perhaps a house… no, they were definitely in some kind of bedroom… and she was right behind the ghostly presence, but not IN it…

They were in a house, a bedroom, it was too dark to see more. And I was seeing things from behind the presence, but not like I was the presence or anything. Am I seeing what Voldemort and his minions are up to?

Thanks in advance,

Hazel

She leaned back and read over it, wondering if she had included all the salient details. Nothing stood out, so she rolled it up and went to Hedwig's cage. "Hey, got something for you," she murmured, stroking the owl. She woke up with a hoot and offered her foot, and was soon on her way to Hogwarts.

She worked out until Dudley was stirring, and when she heard him step into the hall she went to the door. "Hey Duds," she whispered, beckoning him over.

"Alright, Hazel?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Hey, have I been waking you up again, like before?"

"Oh, nah, not since that one time. Everything okay?"

That was a long answer, and she doubted he'd understand. "I told you I'm fine, didn't I? Thanks, Dudley." He shrugged and went on downstairs, and after finishing her workout she did the same.

After lunch that day she went upstairs, and saw Hedwig was back with a reply from Snape. "Good girl," she crooned, taking the letter and petting her owl. She went to her desk and opened it:

Miss Potter,

I loathe being vague on matters of import, but without viewing the dream personally, I can only surmise. It is very likely that you are witnessing the Dark Lord's activities, and the Headmaster will do what he can, but there is little we can do for now. The entire staff is incredibly busy on other matters, and I sincerely regret that I cannot devote more time to helping you.

It is also likely that you will have more dreams as time goes on. Do not let them fade away, and continue writing them down as you can. When term starts I will endeavor to make time for reviewing them with you, and we can then decide what is to be done. If need be, you can expand your dream trap to accommodate.

Good luck,

S. Snape

"Hardly very helpful," she said to herself. Not for the first time she wondered what on earth they were so busy with, especially knowing the entire school staff was involved. She'd love very much to have the mystery solved, if only so she could be relieved of her own curiosity, but she doubted pestering Snape would do any good.

She'd just have to put it out of her mind for now, that was all. The World Cup would be an amazing distraction too, when that time came.

But what the hell would she do with herself? This was gonna suck more than usual, being held down by obligations when she wanted so badly to go back to the wizarding world. The thought of how others would scoff and leave anyway made her want to stay even more; Muggles were still people, after all!

One day her boredom got so bad that she went out with Dudley and his pals. "Let's find Jessica, I really need to beat someone up and not hold back," she told them. They shrugged and followed her, and as luck would have it, Jessica and her pals were standing around the usual playground! "Fucking finally." She cracked her knuckles and took a few deep breaths. "Jessica!" she yelled, advancing across the empty playground. "You're a backstabbing little bitch and I'm gonna put you in your place!"

"What did you just say, Potty?" Jessica retorted, turning to face her. "Cruisin' for a bruisin', eh?" Her friends moved in too, but Dudley's gang cut them off. "Aw, can't fight without your boy toys?"

"They're here for your benefit, not mine," Hazel retorted. "I don't want to put too many of you in the hospital! Now come on then!"

Her old nemesis just snarled and moved in, stepping cautiously. That was a surprise, Hazel had expected her to just run in blindly. Oh well! "Scared, Jessie-wessie?"

"Don't call me that!" she snarled, throwing a punch at her face. She caught it and threw her aside, kicking her as she went so she went to the ground; instantly she covered her face and her crotch, thinking Hazel would start kicking her while she was down.

Hazel didn't do that, though. She wanted this fight to last. "Get up, bitch," she snarled, circling her downed opponent. "Get up so I can kick your ass fair and square!"

"Why don't you come down HERE!" and Jessica lashed out with her foot, trying to trip her up! It was easy to dodge, but Hazel went down anyway; as long as the boys were keeping the others off, it wouldn't go too badly.

In the end, Jessica was tough, but even with some skill she had nothing on Crabbe and Goyle, and a minute later she was tapping out. Hazel let go and backed off. "Learned your lesson, loser?"

She struggled to her feet, spitting out a tooth as she went. "Bitch… you started it…"

"Nuh uh, you threw the first punch!" Piers said.

"My cousin was just defending herself," Dudley pointed out.

"Liars!" The other girls looked from Jessica to Hazel, wondering what to do. "What are you waiting for?! GET HER!"

Hazel shrugged, and the boys backed off, but even though they outnumbered Hazel they were still weaker than Jessica, and just like the fight two years ago she had to keep from being surrounded or overpowered, while tripping or twisting or striking as she was able. In time she knocked one of them into the other and got the third in a joint lock, bending her arm back until it creaked and she was crying out.

"Hazel, watch out!" Dudley was shouting, and she looked to the side just in time to see Jessica charging back in!

"Stupid bitch!" She threw the girl down, ducked Jessica's first swing and drove her fist into her solar plexus. "You're done!" A one-two combo to her face, a headbutt and a heel kick sent her down again, and this time she wasn't getting back up.

She looked up again, saw Dudley's friends restraining the last two girls. "You wanna keep going?" she demanded of them, breathing hard but still standing tall. "I've got enough to break all four of you in half if I have to!"

They looked at each other, at their other friend who was still cradling her wrist, at Jessica who wasn't moving at all. "Okay, fine, you win," one of them muttered. "Just let us go!" Hazel nodded, the boys let go, and they fell forward, scrambling to collect their pals and get the hell out of there!

Only when they were out of sight did she let herself sag and lean against her cousin. "Whew, that was rough," she muttered, wincing at the new aches and pains.

"You made it look easy, Hazel," Malcolm said, awe in his voice. "We should get outta here before they tell their parents!"

"Jessica started it though, right?" Dudley said, holding Hazel up as they left the playground. "After all, she threw the first punch!"

On the way back they passed the entrance to one of the alleyways that hadn't been claimed yet, and Hazel paused. "You guys keep going, I'll catch up," she told them, giving Dudley a significant glance. "I just wanna catch my breath by myself for a few minutes." He nodded and let her go, and she limped into the alley while the boys kept going.

Once in the dark, she waited a moment to make absolutely sure she was alone, then rubbed the invisible Black ring on her hand. "Kreacher?" she murmured.

A crack and a slight flash, and the stooped old house elf was before her. "The young Mistress Hazel called?" he croaked, looking up at her.

"I did." She got to one knee before him. "Can you heal my injuries, Kreacher? Not the surface ones though, the Muggles might ask questions if I'm completely healed up."

She could tell he knew instantly how she'd been hurt, but he couldn't refuse an order. "Mistress Hazel should not mingle with Muggles," he muttered as he raised a hand, a pure white light enveloping her for a second. "Brawling and carrying on, what would Mistress Walburga think?"

"I'm sure I have no idea," she replied tartly, sighing in relief as the magic took hold. "How are things at home?"

"Miss Cissy and Young Master Draco have moved in, along with Master Sirius and the werewolf," he explained, his bullfrog voice echoing slightly in the darkness. "Kreacher is happy to have Miss Cissy back, she appreciates the Black family heritage and won't allow Master Sirius to throw away the precious things…"

"Tell him I wouldn't let him throw them away either," she said. Not until she could study them first, anyway, she silently amended. "Have they heard anything about Voldemort?"

Kreacher hissed at the name and covered his ears for a moment. "No, nothing about the Dark Lord. Everyone is busy with other things, but Kreacher cannot say what they are."

Again with the secrets! What was going on? Whatever, she couldn't countermand Sirius. "Thank you Kreacher, that will be all."

"Would Mistress Hazel like for Kreacher not to tell what he was summoned for?" the house elf asked slyly.

"Hm." She considered that for a moment. "No, in fact, I want you to go straight to him and tell him I've been brawling with Muggles." She grinned widely. "Tell him exactly that, understand?"

"As the Mistress commands," he said sullenly, backing away and disappearing with another crack. She waited again to make sure no one was around, then went back out to the road and on home.

"Aunt Petunia, can I make myself some sandwiches?" she asked as she went into the kitchen.

"I suppose. Use up the roast beef though, it's about to expire." Petunia looked up, saw her bedraggled appearance and frowned. "You weren't fighting, were you?"

"Absolutely not, I was defending myself." She went to the sink to wash off, then to the fridge to get stuff for sandwiches. "Ask Dudley and his mates, they were there. She threw the first punch."

"Was it that Albright girl again?" she sniffed. "I'll have to have a word with her mother."

"Jessica? Yeah, I guess so." Lots of mayonnaise and mustard, slices of tomato and lettuce and onions, and the rest of the roast beef that still looked and tasted ok to her. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia." She put everything away, poured herself some milk, went to the dining room and sat down with her lunch. It still had nothing on Hogwarts, but since she made it herself she decided to forgo judgment and just eat for once!

Notes:Nothing much to say here, lol. I tried to keep things sterile, but yaknow. See you next week!

Chapter 4: To London!Summary:Hazel has more dreams, some other stuff happens, and then she leaves Privet Drive at last. For the summer, anyway.

Chapter TextHazel nearly forgot it was her birthday until she was awoken by tapping at her window, and she got up to find a number of owls queued up to be allowed in. "What on earth?" she muttered, pushing it open so they could all come inside. One by one they lined up on the bed and held their legs out, offering parcels and letters. "Oh, it's my birthday, isn't it?"

She retrieved each package and letter, and as she did the owls flew off until they were all gone. Since it was morning already she decided to open them; Snape had sent a thick book on very advanced potions, which she suspected might exceed NEWT level in difficulty. Ron had sent a cake (which she suspected had been baked by Molly) and a book on the Chudley Cannons, his favored Quidditch team. Hermione, of course, a box of sugar-free candies, which she suspected really came from her dentist parents.

Draco sent earrings, as per usual, and an apologetic note insisting he was only following obscure traditions. She rolled her eyes and put them away, wondering when he'd get a clue and stop sending her these things. That seemed to be everything, so she happily ate cake and sang herself a birthday song, then got up for the rest of the day.

"I'd rather not make a fuss," she said after breakfast, when Dudley seemed ready to do just that. "We can go to the movies tonight or something, but let's keep it quiet, okay?"

"I wanna see The Mask!" Dudley declared. "And then go out for burgers!"

Later that day they did just that, and the movie was quite funny. The food wasn't so bad either.

Birthdays aside, she continued having strange nightmares, about Lockhart and Pettigrew and the kidnapped woman, too. She had seen them making vague plans, seen her being interrogated and tortured, while her belly swelled far too quickly; she had seen the woman being cut open, giving birth, left to die; the strange and malformed fetus that she was certain was Voldemort himself, come back into a physical body at last. It was awful to think of how that fetus had come to be, but Snape had ordered her not to forget the dreams…

A few nights before she was to leave, she dreamed of the infant Voldemort, speaking to his three servants, Pettigrew, Lockhart and Lucius Malfoy, while a fire flickered in the background. They had spoken of the World Cup, of how it would be foolish to act while the Ministry was on high alert and so many foreign wizards were in the country.

("Surely you would allow us a little fun, however, my Lord," Malfoy murmured smoothly, though he himself wasn't so smooth anymore; the stress of the divorce was upon his face, and his robes were ill-kempt and unwashed.)

("I see no harm in a little fun," Voldemort allowed after a few moments. His voice was weak and raspy, an adult trapped in an infant's tiny body. "You must not bring the Ministry down upon us, Lucius…")

("Of course not, my Lord," and he bowed swiftly.)

From there Pettigrew (or Wormtail, as they referred to him) spoke up, insisting it could be done without Hazel Potter. This made her listen, of course, but whatever itwas, they did not discuss in further detail…

("I do not say this out of concern for the girl!" Wormtail squeaked. "She is nothing to me, nothing at all compared to your Lordship! My concerns are far more practical, we can use any other witch or wizard and be done with it far more quickly and quietly!")

("Hardly nothing," Lockhart snarled. "Use her as you must, my Lord, but afterward I insist I be allowed my revenge!")

("Wormtail, why would you deny Gilderoy his revenge?" Voldemort replied, needing to pause frequently to fill his tiny lungs. "However, you make a fair point… I could use another witch, it is true…")

("Yes, my Lord!" Wormtail gasped, relieved. "It makes sense, you see that! Laying hands on Hazel Potter would be nigh impossible considering how well protected she is!")

("Cease your bleating, Wormtail," Malfoy said coldly. "His Lordship has made his plans, and they require the Potter wench, there is no further discussion!")

("Come now, Lucius… Show our enemy some respect, will you? She is… She is the Heir of Slytherin, is she not? She commands snakes, has the respect of her teachers?")

("Yes, exactly! How could we harm a witch held in such high esteem?" Wormtail insisted. "My Lord, if you let me go, I can locate and bring back a suitable person within two days!")

( "If I let you go, Wormtail? What if I do not wish to let you go?" Voldemort hissed softly. "Lord Voldemort does not think highly of desertion… You are already a traitor, Wormtail, do not add to your crimes…")

("We must have Potter!" Lockhart insisted, and in her dream she saw that slimy glint that made her stomach turn. "The Dark Lord requires her! I require her!")

("A few more months will make no difference… I have waited thirteen years… I must have the girl, my plan will be effective…")

("They will notice the Jorkins woman gone missing, my Lord," Wormtail added sulkily. "The furor over the Cup will not last forever…")

(Malfoy made a dismissive gesture. "Irrelevant. No one will miss her, Wormtail, she was an airhead and a fool riding on the coattails of greater men within the Ministry. The three of us will carry the plan to fruition, or perish in the attempt.")

This went on, Wormtail acting sulky and useless and the others proceeding with their plans, until a hissing and slithering was heard, and a huge black snake arrived into the picture. The snake hissed a warning that there was an intruder!

Apparently an old Muggle man had been listening in, and Wormtail was quickly sent to bring the man out. The old man was defiant in spite of not understanding what was happening, yet he died all the same, screaming in terror at the sight of the frail homunculus that was Lord Voldemort.

She had woken up at that, jerked out of sleep by the horror of what she had seen. Four awful men plotting and scheming against the world, and yet the people she had to rely on were busy with other things. It was total bullshit! Yet she did as she was told, resentfully perhaps, getting out of bed and reviewing the nightmare so she could write it down.

Her mental dream trap was getting quite full, and she looked forward to allowing Snape to review them so she could let them out at last.

It was very late, and she was leaving at last in a couple of days; it wouldn't do for her to be sleep deprived when Sirius arrived in Arthur Weasley's enchanted Ford Anglia to collect her. She sent off a quick note for Snape warning him that it sounded like Malfoy was planning to cause trouble at the World Cup, ran through her workout routine to try and work off the restlessness left over from the nightmare, then went back to sleep.

The next morning she realized she hadn't yet apprised her relatives of the evacuation plan, so she decided to do so at breakfast. "My godfather is coming for me, day after tomorrow."

"Godfather?" Vernon replied, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah, you met him last year. The tall man in the green suit, remember?"

"We won't tolerate that ruddy motorbike again! You warn him he's to come around in a car like a sensible person!" he blustered, waving his fork about.

"Yes, Uncle." No use mentioning she'd already done so.

"I had a talk with the Albright woman yesterday, Hazel," Petunia said. "According to her, her daughter had to see a doctor, and she refuses to believe you did it all by yourself; she had the nerve to accuse Dudley and his friends of beating her up!"

"No way, Mum, my mates and I don't hit girls!" Dudley protested. "Like I told you, Jessica hit first and Hazel defended herself!"

"Of course, Dudders," she replied with a smile. "That's just what I told her, and your friends all say the same thing. So I told her to put a sock in it and that was that."

That was strong language coming from her aunt, and she glanced at Dudley and giggled.

Finally the day came, and Hazel made sure everything was packed and ready to go. And at one o'clock there was a honk from out front, and there was the old blue car, with Sirius climbing out of the driver's seat. To Hazel's surprise, Luna was with him! "Luna! Sirius!" she called, dashing outside to meet them.

"Hey kiddo," Sirius said, standing at the gate. He wore a red suit this time, old-fashioned but technically correct for going among Muggles. "Got your things ready to go?"

"I sure do." She clasped hands with Luna for a moment, but had to let go, painfully aware of the judgmental Muggle streets surrounding them. "Sirius, I'm not sure you met my aunt and uncle properly last year? This is Vernon and Petunia Dursley, and this is my godfather, Sirius Black, and my friend Luna."

"If she's had a godfather, why've we been stuck with her all this time?" Vernon muttered, giving Sirius the same side-eye he'd done before.

"Not now, Vernon," Petunia hissed, throwing a glare up at him. She turned to Sirius and tried to smile, but it looked as false as it probably felt. "Nice to meet you, Mr Black."

Hazel went upstairs and got her trunk and cage, and as usual Dudley helped her. They got it stashed away in the back of the car, and after waving goodbye to the Dursleys they drove away.

"Tint the windows, Sirius, Luna and I have some catching up to do," she said, leaning in to pull Luna close. "I missed you so much, Luna…"

"I missed you too, Hazel," she replied, letting herself be held and cuddling in closer. She wore a long skirt and a cardigan, and Hazel couldn't wait to pull it off of her. "How's your summer so far?"

"Kreacher said he caught you dueling Muggle style," Sirius said teasingly.

"He didn't catch me at anything, I summoned him to heal the worst of my wounds," she replied. "And don't worry, it was just a bully and her gang. They won't bother me again."

"Watch your back anyway, Hazel, they might try and jump you some day," was all he said.

"Okay." No use arguing with him when he was right. "I've been having weird dreams, you know."

"I've heard." He looked at them through the rear-view mirror, and his gaze was dark. "V-Voldemort is coming back. I've known that for three years though, ever since I found that fool Quirrell skulking in the Forbidden Forest."

"Oh yeah!" The events of her first year came back to her, especially the terrifying chase through the Forest. "I don't know why we've never talked about that before now, honestly."

"Not everything has to be talked about right away," Luna murmured, taking Hazel's hand so she could examine it some more.

"I was keeping an eye on you back then, Hazel," Sirius explained. "No matter what I told Dumbledore, you're my goddaughter and I'll always be there for you. And I knew that Quirrell was bad news, I could smell it on him."

"You smelled Voldemort on him?"

He flinched, but only a little. Luna didn't react at all, she just hummed and peered at her hand. "I did, yeah. It took me a while to realize that's what I was smelling, and I was lucky you lot were in the Forest the night he finally managed to kill a unicorn."

"That was pretty scary." It was even scarier to think that Voldemort hadn't stopped, and was even now working to come back. "Why isn't anyone doing anything?"

"You think we're not?" He gave her an amused look. "Dumbledore is trying to reorganize the Order of the Phoenix, a group of witches and wizards who opposed Voldemort before, but there's something else going on that has all his attention, and without him there's only so much the rest of us can do."

"I suppose you can't tell me what that is, can you?"

"Nope, sorry kiddo." He didn't seem too sorry to her, though. "Trust me, you've got more than the Quidditch World Cup to look forward to this year. Hell, once you find out you'll forget all about the Cup!"

"Not you too. Why is everyone keeping secrets from me this year?"

"I'm not." Luna leaned in and kissed her cheek. "You've got all my secrets, at least."

She grinned and turned her head to kiss Luna on the lips. "And I'll keep them forever and ever…"

Sirius gagged theatrically, and they giggled and leaned away again. "Save it for when I'm not around, alright?"

"Fine, fine." But she didn't let go of Luna. "Where we going anyway, the Burrow?"

"Merlin, no! Now that Grimmauld Place is livable again I've got everyone staying in there: all the Weasleys, Hermione and Narcissa and Draco. Plenty of room for everyone, so don't worry about any clashes of personality." He rolled his eyes. "Well, except when Molly tries to be everyone's mum, of course."

"I can't imagine she gets along with Narcissa too well," she said, remembering the few times they interacted that she was there for. "They're very different people."

"Even I wouldn't wanna mess with either one of them, though. Molly was a Prewett before she married Arthur, and a favorite of old Slughorn, too. And Narcissa, well, you know her fairly well by now."

"She'll be single again soon, too," Luna murmured, gazing out the window at the scenery of London rolling by.

"Wh-what are you saying?" Hazel stammered, going beet red. "She is way out of my league! And way too old besides!" Not to mention straight, for all anyone knew!

Sirius burst out laughing, and Hazel looked away, doing her best to sulk. Sulking was hard when Luna cooed and leaned in for another kiss, though. Kissing Luna was easier than worrying about hot MILFs so she did that instead, regardless of what Sirius said.

But they had to stop when he brought the car to a halt. "We're here."

Chapter 5: "I'm Not a Guest"Summary:Hazel is not a guest at Grimmauld Place. She gets a little fluffy Luna time, too.

Chapter TextHazel was quick to get out and get her stuff. "Kreacher will show you your room, Hazel," Sirius explained. "Go on in, I've got to park the car."

"It's huge inside, and the house-elf is so funny," Luna said as they went up to the door. Its black paint was scratched, and the tarnished silver knocker shaped like a twisted serpent; Hazel was about to knock when she remembered she partially owned the place, so she reached for the doorknob. Multiple locks came undone the second she touched it, and it opened soundlessly before her. Luna blinked at that. "It doesn't do that for any of the other guests."

"I'm not a guest." Hazel went on in, and the door closed again behind them. Even from here, the house was vastly changed; clean, well-lit and inviting, a far cry from the mausoleum it had been before. "Wow, Kreacher's outdone himself."

"Hazel, dear!" A short woman came bustling up from the kitchen, and Hazel grinned as she gathered them both into a hug. "Lovely to see you both! I imagine you're quite eager for the World Cup, then?"

"Very much so, Mrs Weasley, thank you," she replied, still grinning. "How long have you lot been here?"

"Only a few days, of course. It's lovely and all, but it isn't home, you know?"

Hazel suspected Mrs Weasley was put off by the grandiose old house, and the presence of a house-elf probably offended her sense of self-sufficiency. But she wouldn't say so out loud.

Narcissa approached them as well, and she stepped away from Mrs Weasley to face her. "Well met, Heir Potter," the regal lady said, offering her hand.

"Well met, lady," she replied, bowing over it and miming a kissing gesture. She was unsure how to address her, what with the divorce and all.

Her confusion must have been evident, because Narcissa made a dismissive gesture. "Sadly I am still Lady Malfoy, and will be for some time yet. Even with the entire apparatus on my side, marriages like ours take time to unravel, and my darling husband's habit of hiding his assets even from me has not made it any easier."

Mrs Weasley cleared her throat. "Hazel just got in, let's not bring up all that so soon," she said, and to her credit her voice was perfectly neutral, instead of frosty with disapproval. "The elf has lunch going, if you'd like to come to the dining room."

"Actually I'd like to put my things away first," Hazel said "Lunch does sound lovely, of course. Come on, Luna." She took her things again and went up the stairs, and Luna showed her the way.

"The Heir sleeps at the top in this house," she explained as they mounted the first of several staircases. 

At the next floor another door opened and Ron poked his head out. "Brilliant! You're finally here!" he exclaimed, dashing out to pound her on the back.

"Alright, Ron?" she smiled. "Summer's treating you well, it looks like."

"Yeah!" He was taller and skinnier than ever, and his skin was tanned like he'd spent a lot of time outside lately. "Not much to do around here of course, but we played a lot of Quidditch back at the Burrow!"

"Oh yeah? Been keeping up with your new training regimen?"

"Yes coach," and he rolled his eyes. "Angelina's learned a thing or two from you guys though, you won't walk all over us this year!"

"I hope not, or else all that time I spent training you last term will go to waste!" She knocked him on the shoulder. "Your mum said lunch is about ready, head on down and I'll be there once I get settled in."

They kept going, and on the third floor Luna led them down a hallway. "This is your room, I guess, though no one's been in except Kreacher and Sirius."

"I can tell." The door was ornate, and had her name in old-fashioned script. It swung open at her touch, and the room beyond resembled her dorm at school if it had windows open to the sun. "Very nice, I'll feel right at home."

"Isn't it a little dark?" Luna asked, sitting on the large bed. "You could fit three people on this bed."

"Any idea who?" For now she put her trunk at the foot of the bed and let Hedwig out of her cage, setting up food and water for her while she fluttered about the room.

"What about Cho? Or Ginny?" she said seriously.

"Maybe." Hazel sat down by Luna and pulled her close. "Enough about other girls though, or I'll start to think you just wanna see me with someone else."

"What if I do want that?" she replied coyly, leaning back so Hazel could get at her neck. "Don't you think it'd be hot?"

"I think you're hot, now shut up," Hazel mock growled, pushing her down.

Twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door. "Master Sirius insists that Mistress Hazel come down for lunch," came Kreacher's croaking voice.

"I'm busy!" Hazel shouted back, unwilling to stop now.

"Master Sirius insists quite strongly, Mistress Hazel, or Kreacher would not dare interrupt."

"Dammit," she muttered. "Fine, we're coming!" She pushed away from Luna and got dressed again. "Sorry Luna. We'll pick up again later."

"Yes, we will," she replied simply. "Don't worry, my room is right next to yours."

"I'm not gonna get much sleep for a while, am I?" Hazel laughed, and Luna just smiled mysteriously.

They washed up and went down, meeting Draco on the landing. "Draco, for the last time, stop sending me earrings," Hazel said, pushing them into his hands. "I'm not gonna wear anything you send me, I thought I made that clear before!"

"I know, okay, I know," he replied, unable to meet her eyes. "Mother insists I send them though, no matter what I say."

"Are they actually from her, then?" she retorted, and his face went as red as Ron's hair at that. "Honestly, Draco, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Next time you send me jewelry I'm just gonna melt it down, see if I don't."

She flounced on down to the ground floor, where everyone else was gathering. She nodded to the various Weasleys, gave Hermione a hug and shook Remus' hand. "Narcissa, please ask your son to stop sending me earrings," she said as she sat down across from the blonde lady. "I've told him repeatedly I have no intention of ever wearing anything he sends me, as it would send the wrong message."

"Draco is quite stubborn, as no doubt you've noticed," she replied smoothly, throwing her son a sly glance even as she threw him under the bus. "I daresay if he hasn't gotten the hint by now, he never will."

"My ears aren't even pierced, anyway! He can send things to Pansy Parkinson, she'll wear them."

"You hear that, Draco? Send things to the Parkinson girl if you want so badly to see a girl wearing your gifts."

"I hate you both," Draco muttered, looking at the floor and doubtless wishing he could disappear through it. Hazel just laughed, and so did everyone else.

"You can't win against women, Draco, trust me on that one," Sirius said, nudging the boy on the shoulder.

"Is that why you tried men, Sirius?" he replied, trying for his usual smirk.

"Not quite, but close enough." Kreacher was serving toad in the hole by then, and Hazel tuned the chatter out to focus on eating.

Afterward she insisted on some dueling practice, and Kreacher showed them to the ballroom. "Please be not streaking the floors, Kreacher just waxed them."

"No problem there," Sirius said, waving his wand to conjure heavy, carpeted mats. "Wax would be too slick anyway."

Grinning, Hazel fingered her wand and looked around. Ron and Hermione were there, along with Draco and Luna, and the rest of the Weasleys. Wait, Arthur and Charlie and Percy weren't around; she supposed they were at work. "Where's Percy got off to anyway?"

"Working at the Ministry," Ron explained. "Department of… what was it again?"

"International Magical Cooperation," Hermione said. "It's not that hard to remember, Ron."

"It's a right mouthful, is what it is," he muttered, throwing a quick look at Draco. Draco smirked and Sirius rolled his eyes, and Ron grinned.

"Alright, come on you lot, we're here to duel," Hazel said, drawing her elder and phoenix wand at last. It tingled slightly in her grasp; furtive homework and lawn care was one thing, a proper duel was something else! "Everyone pair off! Ron, you're with me!"

He nodded briefly and stood across from her, bowing and then raising his wand. It was simple and unadorned, made of some kind of light wood with a natural knob to hold onto; he held his wand before him at chest level, crouched slightly as if to defend his body.

Hazel took the stance she'd learned from Snape (wand above her head and left arm held forward), and made the first move. "Stupefy!" she called, flicking her wand forward and sending a jet of red light towards him!

He dodged it though, moving as little as possible to conserve his strength. "Expelliarmus!" he called back, and Hazel barely held onto her wand! He took advantage of her distraction to cast again! "Tarantallegra!"

This time she got a Shield Charm up, and repelled the purple light straight back at him. And while his feet spasmed and jittered she followed up with the Tickling Charm. "Rictusempra!" That made him fall over, laughing uncontrollably and unable to control his legs. "Yield!" In response he dropped his wand and it rolled away; accepting this as surrender she dismissed the charms she'd cast, so he could stand up again. "Not bad, Ron."

"High praise from you," he said, nodding. They looked at the others: Ginny and Luna were off to one side, practicing their weaker spells against each other; Draco and Hermione were in a stalemate, the air crackling around them while spells flew; Sirius stood panting over Fred and George, who both seemed insensate on the floor. Seconds later Draco was blasted backward, wand flying from his hand.

"That's enough!" Hazel called sharply. "Rest a bit, then switch partners."

"We've all fought each other a lot at school, we need new opponents," Hermione said, helping Draco stand again. "Hopefully we can get a few more upperclassmen to join our club this year."

"Oh yeah, it'd be good to duel someone new," Hazel agreed.

They switched partners a few times, and Sirius was the only one who could challenge Hazel. He was an infuriating opponent, casually blocking and retaliating with withering power, outwardly refusing to take her seriously. She wondered if it was an act or if he really was that much better, and it irritated her that she couldn't tell.

They had to stop for dinner, and by then she was tired, so after they ate she told the others she was going to her room to read for the rest of the night. But she didn't plan on reading; she pinned the dreamcatcher on the bed's headboard, and spaced out over Hogwarts: A History and its chapter on some old competition or other, until there was a soft knock on the door.

She got up to open it, and there was Luna. "Took you long enough," she whispered, pulling her in and locking the door behind them…

Chapter 6: Captain Who?Summary:All her hard work last term was for nothing! Also there's a library.

Chapter TextThe next morning Hazel woke up alone, since Luna had to sneak out hours ago and return to her own room. She yearned for the day when they could sleep together every night, but for now, she was glad for her wand, and the charms she could cast to clean herself up before stepping out.

Down in the kitchen, she saw Narcissa and Mrs Weasley seated at either end of the counter. "Am I interrupting anything?" she asked as she stepped into the room.

"No, dear." Mrs Weasley gave her a strained smile. "These came last night," and she held out a Hogwarts letter.

"Brilliant!" Hazel took the envelope and tore it open, shaking it out, but all that came was a few sheets of parchment. "Huh? Where's the captain's badge?"

"It doesn't appear Draco got one either," Narcissa remarked, shaking his envelope slightly; the rattling of a badge was not heard. "Curious. You and Draco were the only real options, weren't you?"

"Yeah…" She trailed off, wondering why in hell she hadn't been chosen. Especially after everything she'd done last year! Learning so many maneuvers and positions, personally coaching a rival team into a force to be reckoned with. But there was no badge, and clearly Draco hadn't gotten one.

Despondent, she checked the supplies list for anything unusual. "Dress robes?" she asked out loud, cocking an eyebrow. "What do we need dress robes for?"

"Formal events, balls and dances and parties and the like," Narcissa answered. "I'll take you all to Twilfit & Tatting's after the Cup, if there's time. You'll need new ones after all you've grown."

Hazel remembered the frilly, feminine things she'd never worn that passed as dress robes before, and shuddered. "I'm picking my own things this time," she insisted, rather more harshly than she had intended.

"Of course, dear." Narcissa exchanged a smug glance with Mrs Weasley, and Hazel was surprised to see it returned equally.

Before she could question it, the others started trickling in, and Kreacher started bustling about for breakfast. "No no, Kreacher is not needing help of guests," he croaked as Mrs Weasley started to rise. She sat back down, but still looked uncomfortable with being waited on.

"Draco, check your letter, I didn't make captain for some reason," she told him.

"What!" He tore his open, and sure enough, no badge. "Weird! It was bound to be one of us, wasn't it? What are they playing at, who's captain instead?"

"If not one of us then it's got to be Warrington, he's the only other player with experience." But he wasn't much of a leader, if she was to be honest about it.

"We're bound to have Angelina, she took charge last year after Oliver stepped down. And he graduated anyway, just like Flint," Ron noted.

"I hope we see them at the Cup, they'd be fools to miss it," Hazel replied.

Breakfast was served, eggs and beans and bacon and fried tomato slices, and the hot sauce was especially tongue-searing; she relished every drop, no matter how her eyes watered.

Afterward, with the table clear, Sirius cleared his throat. "Tomorrow we leave for Dartmoor," he explained. "Between Arthur and myself we've arranged premium spots on the moor, plus seats in the Top Box where the commentator will be with all the visiting dignitaries."

"How much did all that cost?" George asked, trying not to look impressed.

"Not as much as you'd think," he replied with a smirk. "Arthur's close friends with Ludo Bagman, and I've still got some weight to throw around."

"What's a portkey?" Hazel asked. "Something for transportation, I'm guessing?"

"Yes, a common object you can put a special charm on," Remus explained. "Useful for moving large numbers of people at once at prearranged times. There's two hundred of them all over Britain, and fortunately for us the nearest point is the Leaky Cauldron."

Mrs Weasley cleared her throat then. "I will remain behind and attend to the school shopping, of course. All this sports, I wouldn't understand a word of it anyway!"

"You sure you don't want Kreacher to handle it, Molly?" Sirius asked carelessly. She seemed offended, and he just shrugged. "Well, whatever, take him with you to help out at least. Don't argue, he needs to get out and we'll get along at the Cup without him."

"Fine, Sirius," and she rolled her eyes. "As if I need a house-elf," she muttered under her breath.

"You aren't worried about running into Father?" Draco asked of his mother.

"I refuse to let that man scare me into hiding away, Draco, not after what he's done," she sniffed. "We've already made all the scandal sheets, there's no point hiding now!"

Mrs Weasley seemed uncertain. "Er, Lady Malfoy, wouldn't it be better to-"

"I will not teach my son to cower in fear and shame at the actions of others, Mrs Weasley," she hissed, cutting her off. "No, whether Malfoy or Black, we will hold our heads high and endure the jealous words of others!"

"Hear hear!" Hazel said loudly, standing up. "Let's go get ready, you guys."

"Yes! Let's," and Hermione stood up too, closely followed by Ginny and Luna. One by one the boys cottoned on and got up as well, and soon everyone was leaving the two women alone.

"So, I'm already packed," Ginny said lightly, "at least with what we'll need for the Cup. Were we just getting out of there?"

"That was my plan, at least," Hazel confirmed. "I dunno about the rest of you."

"Okay." Ginny smirked sideways at Luna. "Hey Luna, you were late getting in bed last night, what kept you?"

"Oh, I was with Hazel, that's all," she said. "I don't think she'd like it if I told you what we were doing, though."

"Like we can't guess!" Hermione cut in, trying not to laugh. "You two are so in love with each other it's stupid."

"No it's not!" Hazel snapped, trying not to blush too much. "How can you say that?"

"They're just teasing, Hazel, it's fine," Luna said, taking her hand. Hazel hated that she proved their point, but she couldn't resist that look in Luna's eyes.

"Have you guys got dress robes on your supply list too?" Hazel asked eventually, tearing her gaze away to include Ginny too. "And what extra classes were you planning to take?"

"Not as many as you two," the redhead said. "We're both taking Care of Magical Creatures since Charlie would have a cow if we didn't, and I'll be doing Muggle Studies and Arithmancy while Luna does Divination and Ancient Runes."

"Professor Burbage is a good teacher," Hazel sighed, and the other three giggled again. "I think Professor Trelawney will be better going forward too, so I won't be dropping her class just yet."

"I've got dress robes, at least, but Daddy said he'd send some," Luna said. "I hope he picks yellow ones. Yellow is good luck."

"What about green, is green good luck too?" Hazel felt like a very green person; her eyes were green, her House was green.

They found themselves in the library, a somewhat dour place reminiscent of the Restricted Section at Hogwarts. Hazel felt magic swirling about, and fingered her ring. "We belong here, let us in!" she said sternly, and the magic subsided. "Stupid house."

"I'm not sure we do belong here, actually," Ginny said uneasily, backing away from the magic. "Not me, anyway. You guys have fun."

"I know I belong here," Hazel said, heading farther in. Spellbooks, genealogies, old grimoires… all kinds of things, and not all of them Dark either! "We could be here all summer!"

"I wonder if they have any books on gardening?" Luna asked, drifting away into the shelves. The other two hid snickers, and wandered off too.

They were there all day, even through lunch, though Kreacher insisted they set their books aside to eat. "Kreacher won't abide stains on the books, even from Mistress Hazel," he had declared, as loudly as Hazel had ever heard.

Eventually someone else came up to them, a tall redheaded man with long hair in a ponytail and a fanged earring, dressed like he was bound for a wizarding rock concert in black dragonhide leather. "And you must be Hazel," he said with a grin, approaching her and offering his hand. "William Weasley, but call me Bill, yeah?"

"I've heard all about you!" Hazel replied, standing up to shake his hand. "You were Head Boy at Hogwarts, and you're a curse-breaker now for Gringotts!"

"I'm Hermione Granger, and I'm going to be Head Girl one day!" Hermione said as she stood up too. "Is it very hard, then?"

"What's hard, being chosen or being one?" he replied. "You need top grades, a healthy work ethic and a good reputation, which usually puts off the troublemakers. Honestly I got no idea why they chose me, I didn't always stick to the rules very closely."

"Well, they get in the way sometimes, don't they?" Hazel said, recalling her own misdeeds. "So is everyone here, finally?"

"Yep, Dad and Percy got in with me, they're downstairs. Charlie's going by himself, but he'll meet us there." He shook his head. "He's been busy with some other mystery project up at Hogwarts, and Percy's boss Mr Crouch is involved too; Percy keeps dropping hints, I think he wants us to ask about it, but Dad cuts him off."

"Hm." Just when she'd put it out of her mind, too. "Bill, you're a curse-breaker, how would you break this curse?" and she turned the book she had towards him.

"That one?" He cocked an eyebrow and whistled. "Planning a fight with a yeti, Hazel?" A moment later he grinned and chuckled. "Nah, a good Finite Incantatem will cut that one off."

"Along with every other spell effect in the area," Hermione said.

And when they finally came down for dinner, Hazel's mind was alight. "I've got so many new spells to try," she said happily. "Good thing Kreacher's around, some of them can get a little nasty!"

"Aren't you forbidden from using Dark Arts?" Hermione asked as they entered the dining room.

"What? No, they aren't that nasty," she protested.

"What's not that nasty?" Sirius asked.

"Oh, we were in the library all day," Hazel said, shrugging. "I found some neat spells, like the Conjunctivitis Curse!"

"That one's good for dragons," Remus offered. "You can't pierce their hide with most spells, but their eyes are a weak spot, and that spell targets eyes specifically."

Tonight was pork pie, apparently, and there was butterbeer to wash it down with. Afterward Sirius got a dusty bottle of firewhiskey out, and winked at Hazel. "No hiding this time, Molly, if the kids want some, they can have some!"

"I'll have another go," Hazel said bravely, and after a moment Ron said he would too. Sirius handed her a shot glass while Mrs Weasley scoffed and rolled her eyes. It stung just as much as it had before, but her tolerance for strong flavors was stronger, and she swallowed it down despite her eyes watering.

After that she yawned, and made her way to the bathroom. Then she went upstairs for bed, figuring it'd be best if she was well rested for the big to-do in the morning. Weary and dizzy or not, she made herself go through her routine, just like every night, and fell into bed quickly.

Chapter 7: Pre-Game Excitement Part 1Summary:Hazel and the gang arrive at the moor. It's very crowded.

Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextHardly any time had passed, or so it felt, before someone was shaking her shoulder. "Mistress will be rising now," Kreacher croaked; she muttered something vague and turned away from him, but he didn't stop poking. "Mistress will rise or Kreacher will use cold water!"

"Mrrrf! Fine, you little blighter, I'm up," she groaned, pushing out of the blankets and rubbing her eyes. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Time for Mistress to get ready," was all Kreacher said before disappearing again. She groaned again but pushed herself out of bed, and on reflection decided some cold water didn't sound so bad; at least, she thought as much right up until the first jet of freezing liquid hit her full in the chest like an iceberg!

"Fuck!" she shouted, diving out of the shower. "Way too fucking cold!" She was awake now, at least! Thankfully there was a magic vent to dry off on, and she got dressed quickly, grabbing a long coat to cover the holster of her wand; they were supposed to dress like Muggles, but with so many strange wizards waiting for them, no way would she go unarmed.

The shock of the icy water had her in a worse mood than she would have been in, so when she came downstairs to find everyone else finishing breakfast in high spirits, she had to fight to restrain a snarl.

"Oh, Hazel, here," and before Kreacher could react Mrs Weasley floated a plate to Hazel's usual place. "Go on and eat, dear. After you went to bed early last night we all figured you could use a lie-in this morning."

"Still seems fairly early," she muttered, sitting down to eat. "When's the portkey leaving?"

"In an hour," Mr Weasley said, checking his watch. "Well, everyone all washed up and ready?"

"I will be in a minute," Hazel replied, eating faster. She washed up at top speed, made sure she had her wand and her satchel, and went to join the others.

It was a quick walk through the city to the Cauldron, but with everyone checking watches it seemed to take forever. They got there eventually of course, and as was to be expected the place was packed full of witches, wizards and warlocks of every description. "Everyone grab a hand!" Sirius said over his shoulder, and Hazel grabbed Luna's and Hermione's hands, though she wished she was at the back so she could mind her things with one free hand.

Sirius pushed through the throng to the bar, and shouted at Tom until he was directed to a room upstairs. Then it was more shoving through the crowd, and Hazel closed her eyes, wishing everyone would shut up; a dark urge she hadn't felt in months rose up within her, an urge to silence them all permanently, and dealing with that took seconds on end…

They were upstairs before she knew it, and Luna was looking back at her curiously. "I'm fine," she whispered, trying not to be too obvious about it. "Go on, I'm fine."

"Okay." She turned back to the front, and didn't let go of Hazel's hand.

Finally they reached the private room, and two other people were already there. "Ah, Amos. Wasn't there a portkey from Stoatshead Hill?"

"Well, with you lot and the Lovegoods in London, and since the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets, we decided to cancel that one, and Cedric and I flooed up here," Amos explained. He was a short and jovial man, who contrasted rather sharply with his tall, handsome son Cedric. Even Hazel had to reluctantly agree that he wasn't bad looking, for a boy.

"Hazel, great seeing you again," Cedric himself said, stepping forward to shake her hand.

"Same to you, Cedric," she replied, smiling and shaking. Luna shook his hand too, but the Weasleys just nodded; doubtless they were still sore about their resounding Quidditch losses from last year.

"Hazel? Hazel Potter?" Amos sputtered, and she flipped her hair back with a sigh. "Merlin's beard! I thought Ced had been pulling my leg, saying he was friends with Hazel Potter! What with you being in opposite Houses and all, eh?"

"Knock it off, Dad, just because she's in Slytherin doesn't mean she's a bad person," Cedric said sternly. "She's the best Quidditch player I've ever played against, haven't won a game against her yet."

"Ah, but I bet they cheat, don't they?" Amos countered with a laugh, obviously trying to prop up his son. "You know those snakes, they'll take-"

"Shut up, Dad!" Cedric nearly shouted, and the Weasleys all hissed. "Hazel would never cheat! She plays rough, sure, but it's Quidditch!"

"Alright, alright, sorry." He held his hands up placatingly. "Can't blame a man for talking his son up, can you?"

"When it's at the expense of the son's friends, yes, you can," Mr Weasley said, quietly but firmly.

"Everybody, cool it." Hazel stepped forward and stuck her hand out. "I accept your apology, Mr Diggory. Cedric is a fine and honorable player himself, don't worry."

"Of course he is!" Amos roared, shaking her hand and clapping Cedric on the back. "Not an unfair bone in his body!"

Despite the brief chivalry, the atmosphere in the room was a bit tense as they waited for the portkey to activate. "Thirty seconds," Mr Weasley announced, and everyone crowded around the manky old boot in Amos' hand. Thirteen people all clustered around, fingers pressed to whatever bit of it they could reach, backpacks and satchels making it harder to squeeze in. "Ten seconds, everyone got a finger on the boot?"

A quick chorus of ayes. "Five, four, three… one-"

Everything happened all at once, as the portkey pulled them through space; to Hazel it felt like a large hook behind her belly button, her finger stuck hard to the boot, spinning through a maelstrom of wind and colors!

She had a split second to notice something massive hurtling up from below, quicker than any broom, and to brace herself before her feet slammed into the ground once more; she did her best to stay on her feet, but the landing was rough on everyone and she fell over beneath Draco and Ron.

"Get off," she grunted, shoving them off so she could look around. Mr Weasley, Amos and Narcissa were still on their feet, looking quite windswept. Everyone else, even Cedric, had fallen over and were struggling to their feet.

Hazel and Cedric were the first ones up, and they helped the rest. "Ten past nine from London," a voice called. The voice belonged to a wizard in a kilt and poncho, who was holding a long roll of parchment and a quill. "Alright, Arthur?"

"Morning, Basil," Mr Weasley said, tossing the old boot into a nearby bin full of used portkeys. "Been up all night, by the looks of you."

"Merlin's balls, don't remind me," Basil muttered, heedless of the kids in earshot. "Let's see, Black and Weasley…" He checked his parchment again and yawned. "Half a mile up, right by the woods, ask for Mr Roberts. Diggory, second field, you're with a Mr Payne."

"Righto," Amos replied, taking off with Cedric in tow. "See you lot at the game!"

Hazel took off with the rest, looking out across the rolling moors. It was full of tents, and the huge golden stadium loomed large in the background, rising from the dark green wood. "Are we camping then?"

"Absolutely!" Mr Weasley said, rubbing his hands gleefully. "Just like Muggles, eh? We've got to keep all magic to a minimum, of course, can't rouse any suspicions!"

Eventually they reached a small stone cottage next to a gate, beyond which hundreds more tents stretched away. A very confused man stood in the doorway, staring out over the tents; Hazel knew right away he was a Muggle, perhaps the only one for many acres unless he had family in the cottage. "Let me handle this," she told the others in a low voice, and Mr Weasley handed her a roll of Muggle money. She took it and strode onward. "Excuse me! Are you Mr Roberts?"

"Ah, yes, that's me," he replied, turning towards them. "Names, please?"

"Black and Weasley," she said firmly, peeling off several 20-pound notes. "Should be right next to each other, right by the woods?"

"Right, right." He took the notes and frowned at another list. "More foreigners, then?"

"Sorry?" she replied politely.

"You aren't the first group to let kids handle things," he said with a frown, scrutinizing the adults in the group. Mr Weasley just shrugged uneasily, but Narcissa glared coolly back at him and sniffed haughtily. "Couple of blokes a while back tried to pay in gold coins, can you believe that? Great big ones too, with a dragon on one side!"

"Unbelievable," and Hazel rolled her eyes. "We really need to get moving sir, so can I have my change?"

"Mm." He pocketed the bills and reached for a tin can to scrounge for change. "Never been so crowded, you know. And so many pre-bookings, usually they just show up."

"You don't say?" Mr Weasley said nervously.

"Aye, and not just foreigners, but weirdos too! Got the strangest clothes and tents. They all seem to know each other, like a big party or a rally…"

"Enough of this," Narcissa muttered harshly, drawing her wand on Mr Roberts. "Obliviate!"

Instantly the curiosity slid from his eyes and he stood there placidly, a look of dreamy unconcern on his face. Hazel knew he had just had his memory modified. "A map of the moor, and your change," he said, handing the items over.

"Thanks very much." They moved on, and she slipped the things to Mr Weasley.

Another wizard appeared before them, but a glance told him Mr Roberts had been dealt with. "Thank Merlin," he muttered, putting his wand away. He followed them to the gate, glancing warily back at the Muggle. "Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day, why they couldn't find a campsite with a proper owner, I ask you!"

"The world is going to the dogs," Narcissa drawled, laying a slim hand on her son's shoulder.

"I guess it was you who Charmed him, then?" the wizard replied, cocking an eyebrow. But he didn't have the energy to press the matter, and his shoulder slumped. "Well, whatever. Be damn glad when this is all over. Look here, Arthur, if you see Bagman would you talk sense into him? Dashing here and there talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a care in the world about security!"

"I'll try, but you know Ludo," and Mr Weasley shrugged helplessly.

"Mm. Later then," and he disappeared once more.

"Ludo Bagman, the Head of Magical Games and Sports?" Draco asked as they set off again. "A Department Head should be more mindful of security in a place like this, if you ask me."

"Yes, well, you won't find anyone more enthusiastic about the sports department, even if he's a bit lax about security," Mr Weasley chuckled. "He used to play on the English national team, best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

Farther they walked, and Hazel noticed the more out of shape of the group were starting to pant and blow a bit. The tents were a mix of ordinary, abnormal and outlandish, with many regular tents having odd additions like bellpulls or chimneys or weathervanes. She saw an extravagant silk tent like a little palace, with actual peacocks tied up outside; further on was a three-story tent with turrets, and beyond that one a tent with a front garden, complete with birdbath and fountain.

"Wizards sure enjoy showing off," Hermione said, giggling at the striped silk confection. "No wonder Mr Roberts needs a Memory Charm ten times a day!"

"We can't resist when we get together," Mr Weasley said, smiling. "Ah, and here's our spots!"

Two open spaces at the very edge of the wood waited for them, with small signs hammered into the ground; one read WEEZLY and the other read BLECK.

"The stadium's just passed these trees, we're as close as anyone can get," Sirius said excitedly. "So! Like Arthur said, we're not strictly allowed magic, but putting a tent up by hand sucks so I want everyone to stand back!"

He flicked his wand; three tents burst out of his and Mr Weasley's packs, whirled in the air and settled to the ground, fully assembled and ready.

"Narcissa and the girls are in mine, and the boys all split yours," Sirius remarked, proudly regarding his handiwork.

"I didn't know we had tents, Dad," Ron said, side-eying one of them.

"We don't, I borrowed them from Perkins at the office," the man explained as he made to crawl inside the biggest. "Poor fellow doesn't camp much anymore, not since the lumbago set in."

Curious, Hazel ducked into their tent, and had to do a double take. It was much larger on the inside than the outside indicated, and though she could clearly still see the canvas walls, it looked like nothing so much as a piece of 12 Grimmauld Place, with a dining set in the middle and a small kitchen, and the bunks were isolated from one another by thick canvas. There was even a bathroom, off to the side.

"There's no way Muggles camp like this," she said to herself.

"Step aside, Hazel," Narcissa said from outside, and she moved out of the way so the others could also come in. Hermione's jaw dropped too, but Luna and Ginny didn't seem so caught off guard. "Arthur might wish to play Muggle, but we'll do no such thing." She flicked her wand and got the kitchen going for tea, though Hazel thought the utensils and cookery moved a bit reluctantly, as if Narcissa wasn't as adept at those household spells.

Which made sense, since she was a witch who was used to being waited on by house elves and servants.

"Ah, it's been too long since I've seen a good Quidditch game," she murmured, settling into a chair.

"You were a Chaser back at Hogwarts, you told us once?" Hazel asked.

"I certainly was," Narcissa nodded. "Good memory, Hazel. I wasn't the best, of course, but I certainly made laps around the usual buffoons Gryffindor managed to put up against us."

"Well, we're not such buffoons this year," Ginny promised. "We lost hard last year, but after that Angelina went and asked the Slytherins if they could coach us."

"Really!" Narcissa was obviously surprised. "I wouldn't have imagined it, in my time there was far too much animosity between the Houses for something like that."

"I doubt Flint would have gone for it, but apparently he decided that since he was graduating it wasn't his problem, and he made Hazel decide."

Hazel shrugged. "I couldn't let my friends down, so I told them I'd do it, and they got a lot better."

"You should have heard Ron and the twins whining after practices with you guys," Hermione said, shuddering theatrically. "Slave-driver was the nicest thing they said about you!"

"Hey, this is Quidditch, no pain no gain!" she replied. "I just did to them what Flint did to us, that's all. I still can't believe I was passed over for Captain, though."

"From what I've heard, you weren't the only one," Narcissa said slyly. There was a whistling from the kitchen, and she waved her wand again to bring a tea service over. "Drink up, ladies."

The tea was somewhat bitter, and Hazel carefully added sugar cubes until she could drink it. "Tonight it's Ireland and Bulgaria, right?"

"Yeah, Bulgaria's got Viktor Krum!" Ginny sounded excited. "One of the youngest professional Seekers ever, just turned 18 or something!"

"No shit?" Hazel replied, impressed. "I bet the Bulgarians are awfully worked up about him." And if they were in the Top Box, maybe they'd get to meet the players!

Notes:Literally the only consistent description we get for Cedric in the books is that he's "handsome" or "good-looking", just a stereotypical Hufflepuff lad. Fortunately, beauty is objective!