Chapter Text
Selûne thought it would all be wonderful, based on how her mother had so excitedly described her years at Hogwarts.
Tales of love, tales of pranks, and multiple fun anecdotes all told to her throughout her childhood prepared the girl for her memorable, magical coming of age.
One specific fact that made Selûne particularly excited for her school days was that there were incredible magical creatures that lived in the forbidden forest.
Her father had often regarded his school years so highly due to the beasts that resided in the darkened corners of the forest. Bowtruckles in particular lived in large colonies scattered up and down the forest- he noted they were rather difficult to locate unless you were looking for them. But Selûne had plenty of experience in the field of magizoology thanks to her father's work.
Similarly, her mother often spoke of incredible herbs that could be found all over the highlands around the castle, which excited Selûne— she wanted to brew new potions with them rather than study and preserve them like her mother would have liked.
Despite these two redeeming points, it was all incredibly dull.
So far, Selûne couldn't help but feel it was rather dreary. Miserable uniform shopping, boring supply runs to Diagon Alley- it wasn't as if Selûne hadn't been doing it all her life. Not to mention that the robes looked hideous— Selûne hated black. In her opinion, it made her look blocky and washed out; she much preferred lighter mixtures of colour.
Newt Scamander, her father, often needed things from all around the world. Ophelia Scamander, her mother, often tagged along for her own personal research. Being the youngest (by almost 20 years), Selûne was allowed to toddle along behind her parents as they traversed jungles, inspecting plants and affectionately studying creatures never before documented.
Selûne's life of dangerous dragons, snapping succulents, and treacherous terrains had been replaced with devastatingly dull parchment and quills. Of course, there was no denying how dangerous a life that was for a toddler and tween, but Selûne loved it and would often throw a fit when her parents denied her permission to come along on their more risky adventures.
With such exciting pre-teen years, Selûne was almost zombified by the idea of sitting in a quiet classroom uttering miserable charms she'd known how to do since she could even speak them. After all, it's not like one could venture into the caverns of America to locate hideous magical creatures without knowing a few defensive spells, hexes, and charms.
Selûne could practically feel the dreary lessons' atmosphere just by thinking about it; endless scrawling of insignificant incantations made her brain shrivel. Surely the best practice for the wizarding world was practical experience?
Clearly not in the ministry's eyes.
Shop-hopping down cobble streets was awful. Selûne wasn't sure how many more crooked buildings with low beams and rotted wood she could take.
The potion shop in particular made her sick. The overlapping stench of various ingredients all wafting together to create a uniquely foul odour made her stomach churn.
Walls were lined up and down with jars of varying sizes, filled to the brim with weeds, animal parts, liquids, plants, and minerals.
In particular, Selûne was completely entranced by a jar of unicorn blood. It was completely macabre, made her feel sick and dizzy- she could have sworn hurting unicorns was illegal. She'd only hoped unicorn ingredients were humanely sourced and not taken callously.
She pouted a little, then had to be guided away by Newt, who also seemed a little disturbed by most of the potion ingredients. Magic could be horrible. After all, it was honed by humans, who were, by nature, cruel.
She'd left the store with a shopping bag of little brown pouches of basic potion ingredients, and the Hogwarts letter of acceptance had asked her to come with. Moonstone, horklump juice, dittany leaves, and toad warts.
Selûne didn't know what kind of potion required those ingredients for her first lesson; she only hoped it was interesting.
"Can we please go to Ollivanders now?" Selûne groaned, green eyes rolling back in annoyance. Quill shopping, potion ingredient retrieving, and seed collecting were not fun to a girl whose favourite activity used to be chasing her father through the forests of Japan and seeing how many creatures she could spot.
Newt shook his head. "We still have textbooks to buy." He placed a hand on her head comfortingly, but Selûne just swatted it away with an unamused huff.
She liked reading— not as much as exploring, she didn't like sitting still for too long, but it kept her occupied when there was nothing else to do. She supposed this couldn't be too bad.
Selûne pushed the door open, and the bell above her pinged loudly. She hated bells; they irritated her ears.
The smell of books was the first thing she noticed, the fresh parchment, a comforting aroma in her nose.
Selûne ignored Newt as she pushed into the shop, bumping right into a boy covered in scratch marks and his father. She whispered an apology, he just hummed and shrugged.
She couldn't help but notice he smelled...inhuman. She couldn't put her finger on it, and just assumed he had some exotic pets.
The bookshop was packed with students and their parents, and the noise was almost too loud for her to bear. She hated ruckus, especially in a bookstore.
Star charts caught her eye, lines and scribbles of names dotted over the cover of a book proudly displayed outward on a shelf: 'Astronomy: the guide to the stars and their secrets'.
That looked interesting.
She plucked the book off the shelf, fingers caressing the hardback cover. The stars swirled over the cover, moving slowly as a perfect replica of the real night sky— what she'd see if the sun wasn't out.
"Dad!" She called into the crowd, eager to secure this book with a few sickles of her own pocket money on it. Newt awkwardly found his way to his daughter- hard to lose such a blonde girl.
"Don't run off like that..." Newt mumbled, gently guiding her away from the Astronomy books. She dug her heels into the floor and pouted.
"Can I get this? With my pocket money?"
Newt just sighed and nodded his head, "Yes, just-" he pinched the bridge of his nose, "can we please get this done? It's crowded."
Selûne relented, following her father around the store, trying not to be too distracted by interesting books. Muggles, apparently, were incredible storytellers, as there were walls and aisles dedicated to muggle literature.
"Never thought I'd have to do that again.." Newt admitted with a small chuckle, "Should have asked your mother to take you..."
Selûne shrugged, "Can we please go to Ollivanders?" She groaned, round green eyes gazing up at her father. He couldn't say no to them- she was like an otter in that regard- big round eyes and a sweet smile even the coldest heart couldn't deny affection toward.
"Yes-yes, we can." Newt relented, to a much-satisfied little girl.
Selûne had been looking forward to getting her first wand. For the past half decade, she'd been using her maternal grandmother's wand, which had worked for its desired purpose, though it often led to rather iffy spells. Now she was actually permitted to use magic (Newt had to pull many strings using his influence to allow Selûne to use even the most simple of spells), and she was allowed her own wand.
The door opened with a ping, the sound of the bell drew an annoyed wince from the eleven-year-old; her freckles bunched up like polka dot fabric when she scowled.
Selûne glanced around- she hadn't been in this shop before. After all, both her parents took excellent care of their wands, which was all the more important in their line of work— if it snapped in the middle of the Russian tundra, you were as good as dead.
The ceiling was high, Selûne had to squint to see where the wand shelves met the roof. It was dark, cozy in a way, even despite the dim lighting and dusty surfaces.
The walls were decorated head to toe with tall shelves, and upon those shelves were boxes of what the girl assumed to be wands, all bunched up and packed together. A man was standing behind the desk on a stepstool, more wands were stacked on more shelves behind it. The desk itself had a few broken wands upon it, which caused Selûne to frown slightly- how could anyone be so careless with such incredible pieces of magic?
Selûne stepped further in, the whole shop reeked of wood and dust. It was an oddly comforting smell, at least, she'd think so if she wasn't sneezing.
The man glanced over at the sound of the door opening. She assumed he'd had many customers today due to the tired bags under his eyes. Still, he didn't look miserable.
Selûne thought she would be if she had to deal with snot-nosed kids her age so often.
Ollivander had greeted Selûne with exceptional enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling with a familiar warmth she only saw in her father's eyes when he talked about magical beasts. Perhaps it was just a 'weirdo' thing.
"Another Scamander!" Ollivander remarked, hastily moving from behind his cluttered desk to meet the golden-haired girl. "I must say you look nothing like your brothers..."
Selûne cut him off with a small glare, arms crossed defiantly across her chest, "Because I'm not related to them by blood" she had huffed curtly, even if she was related to them she wouldn't have enjoyed the comparison- they didn't have her firework of golden curls, and, at least in Selûne's opinion, weren't as talented.
Newt placed a hand on his daughter's head stiffly, shuffling on the spot, "ah- yes, well, she's adopted...still a Scamander though." His words, despite the underlying awkwardness, were clearly prideful.
Ollivander nodded understandingly, hands immediately setting to work in finding an appropriate wand for the girl. She was small, yet had her mother's confidence (as well as Newt's clear disregard for social norms). Naturally, Ollivander first opted for a flamboyant supreme core: Dragon Heartstring.
He offered the box, inside was a beautifully crafted oak wood wand, the handle carved into a small swirl. "If you don't like the design of it, that can be changed." Ollivander added helpfully, to which Selûne nodded.
Her hand reached for the wand, freckled fingers wrapping around it. She pointed at the box, flicking her wrist with practiced perfection and muttering an incantation under her breath. The box, once green, turned a bright, hot red. "Not this one." Selûne declared confidently. "It doesn't like me." she puffed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and placed the wand back in its box.
Though her spell was practically flawless, she felt a resistance in the wood, which made the casting rather uncomfortable. Selûne had assumed the whole 'the wand chooses the wizard' rubbish was just that- rubbish. But obviously, unfortunately, it had some merit. She'd be here a while.
Ollivander nodded, closing the box and placing it back in its haphazard position on the shelf.
"Dad's wand is shell," Selûne interjected, her arms sliding into her dungaree pockets as she shifted on her feet. "Can't I have one like his?"
Ollivander shook his head, "Your father's wand was experimental. It's not one of the supreme three- my grandfather made it before they were established."
That simply made Selûne huff with annoyance, "Mum's wand is African Mermaid Hair. She won it in a duel in South Africa."
Ollivander once again shook his head, "Not one of the supreme three." He repeated hastily, his fist sweeping around as he thought, "You're probably best off with dragon heartstring or phoenix feather- if it'll have you— we just need to find you the right wood."
Then he turned away from the sulking girl. She did not want a boring wand. It seemed everyone in England had one of the 'supreme three' and Selûne didn't want to settle for normalcy. She was better than that; more talented.
Growing up with basically whatever she liked, and now being told she couldn't have something? Selûne couldn't help but be a bit sulky.
"What about your experimental wands, then? In Eastern Europe, they use fairy wings and coral!" Selûne asked sharply. She'd read into wandlore a little when she and her father were studying Ukranian ironbellies- while she didn't know Ukrainian, her mother did know a pretty accurate translation spell. Turns out the Eastern Europeans had incredible wand cores and powerful wizards to show for it.
The wandmaker seemed a little impressed with her knowledge, eyebrows raising in surprise. However, the idea did make him think— Selûne didn't strike him as fitting Phoenix feather, nor unicorn hair.
" Perhaps..." Ollivander relented, gesturing for Selûne and Newt to stay put as he wandered further back into the shop.
When he returned, he had three boxes in his arms, cradled like children. He offered the first; these boxes were all a deep, royal purple, a clear sign of their difference. Inside the first box was a regal apple wood, thunderbird core wand. The handle had been carved into a heart, swirls cascaded down the sides.
Selûne took the wand hesitantly, feeling it in her hand. Once again, this wand had a hesitancy to work with her. Still, she was keen on testing out experimental wand cores and was excited to see the minor destruction it would inflict. She always liked a little discord.
She lifted her hand, gently flicking her wrist again, attempting 'lumos'- which backfired devastatingly badly. Selûne's wand tip exploded with light, causing the trio of magic bearers to avert their eyes. "Not..that one." The girl noted, quickly placing it away.
Ollivander hummed in thought, then placed the wand box on his counter. "Not that one." he agreed, offering the next box, which was the same royal purple.
Selûne had the inkling that he was finding enjoyment in this. She, however, just wanted to get this over with. The girl groaned, snatching the second wand out of its box and holding it close to her eyes.
The second wand was just as beautiful, pear wood with a wampus hair core. "I only made this wand because I visited a friend who had a wampus hair core and I was curious about it." Ollivander said softly, watching as Selûne took the wand.
"Dad's wampus growls at me." Selûne puffed with annoyance, studying the wand. The comment seemed to catch Ollivander off guard, before recollecting himself with the reminder that Newt was a world-class Magizoologist.
The wand was rather short in comparison to the others, she thought. Not to mention the simple design, this wand seemed to be made with wand attachments in mind. No engravements were visible, other than its creation date: 17.9.65– this wand was almost as old as her, which seemed to amuse Selûne.
She flicked the wand, this time attempting a levitating spell, which thankfully didn't have any drastic repercussions. In fact, it seemed to have quite the opposite; the spell hardly worked, the stool she chose to focus on lifted pathetically and held in spot shakily before tumbling down.. "Still no, it's weak." Selûne placed the wand back, getting a little frustrated now. Her third wand and she still hadn't found one that fit- she thought Ollivander was supposed to be the best in the continent.
Selûne took a breath, nose scrunching again as she tried to calm her bubbling anger. Neither of her parents was particularly snappy, and Newt had always assumed that came from her biological parents. "Can we hurry this up?" Selûne snapped, urgency evident in her tone.
Ollivander nodded, a small chuckle leaving his lips, "You're just as impatient as one girl who came in yesterday- Bellatrix Black, broke her wand in a fit of rage." Though that little comparison seemed to further anger the blonde girl, so he changed the subject.
"This last one's rather special- I made it when I was just a boy studying under my father. I'd be a little sad to part with it if it's the right one for you." Ollivander said as he offered the final box. "Hazel wood, kelpie hair, twelve inches. Forgive the rather rough shape, I can fix that if you want."
Selûne slowly took the wand, biting her bottom lip lightly. Her hand gripped the handle, and she immediately felt kinship with it. "Dad has a kelpie." She whispered, admiring the wand for a moment, it was weird looking with shabby sculpting and a jagged shape...she adored it. "It bit mum once and she hated them ever since. It bit Bunty too."
Any anger Selûne felt earlier had been immediately quelled. She liked talking about her father's creatures, which helped. The main thing Selûne noticed was the weird calming effect this wand had on her. Probably for the best
Her thumb pressed into a groove in the wood, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth and chewing on it. This felt good; It seemed to fit perfectly in her hand as if it were an extension of herself.
Selûne raised the wand, pointing it at a pile of discarded boxes by Ollivander's desk. She cast 'depulso', the spell worked perfectly and with ease. She gave a small nod, "this." Selûne said softly, reverently, eyes fixed on her new wand, "This one's perfect."
1st September 1971, 10.37 am.
The train station was bustling, Selûne felt out of place among the throng of muggles that swarmed every section of space. Pushing that giant trolley, her calico kneazle sat neatly on her suitcases licking itself.
Her father had gotten it for her; after all, the magizoologist could efficiently list the pros of having one. The main thing that convinced Selune of getting this kneazle was the fact that she'd live far longer than a normal cat. Newt had three of his own kneazles anyway, so Selûne grew up surrounded by the cats and knew how to look after them. She always did like them; they were sweet to her and she thought their nature was interesting.
This specific cat, whom Selûne had affectionately named Rosemary after her favourite song (only released that year but had quickly won her heart), had captured her attention in the pet shop window in Diagon Alley. Big black eyes, neatly trimmed fur in various colours, and now sported a dark green collar with a moon charm.
Selûne found the noise of the station grating- all she wanted was to sit on that train and wallow in the misery of her situation.
She already missed her exciting adventures; she missed discovering new beasts and studying the secrets most magical creatures didn't wish to bestow on any other researchers. Selûne felt like a part of her soul had been shattered and discarded.
"Just run toward that wall, my darling," Ophelia pointed at the brick wall between platform nine and ten, her hand placed affectionately on Selûne's shoulder. "We're right behind you."
Finally, Selûne thought, not hesitating to rush forward through the wall. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, glancing around the station. Witches and wizards now decorated the platform, wishing their children goodbye as they boarded a huge red and black steam train.
"See?" Ophelia mused as she gently pushed her daughter forward, "It's not so bad, it gets easier." Selûne jumped a little at the sudden appearance of her parents behind her.
Selûne rolled her eyes, "Bet you never thought you'd be back here again after Eddy's 7th year." She didn't tear her gaze away from the train. It was substantially more mundane than she'd expected from a wizarding train.
"Albus will be surprised to have another Scamander," Newt added, a small, awkward chuckle leaving his lips as he shuffled. This many people always made him nervous- ironic for a man who quite literally saved the world. Twice. "Especially one...as gifted as you."
That was true. Selûne knew she was far ahead of the rest of her year, which at least meant these exams would fly by and she'd pass with flying colours.
Selûne picked up Rosemary, cradling the cat like a child as she made her way onto the train, gnawing at the skin of her bottom lip. She felt oddly out of place, even among the wizarding community. The older children watched curiously as the fresh faces piled onto the train and bumbled around looking for seats— Selûne hated being stared at.
She eventually found a carriage with an empty space, sitting opposite a boy with long, black hair and a sour expression, and next to a pretty ginger girl with a bright smile. Talk about opposites.
Selûne placed the cat in her lap, the girl beside her immediately reaching out to pet her, "What a sweet kitty! Does she have a name?" The girl asked, Selûne tensed.
"How did..." she trailed off and shook her head dismissively, "Rosemary. She scratches." Selûne knew that was a partial lie- Rosemary was the sweetest creature she'd met- and she'd met a lot of creatures. Selûne knew kneazles were good judges of character- and if this girl wasn't a good person, she knew Rosemary would, in fact, scratch.
"I'm Lily Evans." Lily smiled up at Selûne. She was a few inches shorter, which she seemed to make up for in personality. "And that's my best friend: Severus Snape, but he's not very talkative." Lily paused for a moment before noticing Selûne's slight confusion, "Calico cats are almost always girls, so I just assumed she was."
Selûne nodded dismissively, then glanced over at Severus, her forest green eyes softening slightly. He looked just as out of place as she did, but in the opposite way. Selune's clothes were bright, mismatched in colour and pattern, whereas Severus wore black head to toe. She hummed softly in thought.
"Gothic." Selûne mumbled, which earned a small laugh from Lily. Selûne didn't think that she was being funny, merely truthful.
She glanced out the window, where her parents were standing hand in hand, waving. She returned the wave, which for some reason seemed to sour Severus even more.
"Um...is he always like that?" Whispered Selûne, Lily just nodded. The ginger girl was too focused on Rosemary to pay attention to much else.
Then she suddenly sat up, "You didn't tell me your name! I know your cat's name but not you."
Selûne blinked a few times, nibbling at her lip again, "uh.." she chuckled nervously, "Selûne Scamander."
Neither child seemed to have much of a reaction, which relaxed Selûne. She didn't want to be treated nicely simply for her name. She didn't want to be treated nicely for a name she didn't even have a blood connection to.
"Pretty." Lily complimented, her attention now on Rosemary again, who was purring and nuzzling against her. Selûne just sighed and placed the cat in Lily's lap. She didn't want a strange ginger girl leaning against her just to see her cat. She quite liked her personal space.
The train stirred to life, and Selûne turned to look out the window again. Her parents waved again, and her mother was blowing kisses.
She leaned back into the chair, closing her eyes briefly. Then, rather quickly, she sat up. "Why didn't you wave?" She asked curiously to the other two children.
"My parents are muggles. They didn't cross the barrier. Sev's—" She was swiftly cut off by a sharp cough from the brooding boy, so she shifted course, "couldn't make it."
Selûne glanced over, eyes fixed on Severus. He looked rather displeased. Selûne could only assume his parents weren't the greatest, and he didn't want people to know that. So, respectfully, she nodded and focused back on Lily.
"So your parents are muggles...cool." She nodded absentmindedly, "Mine are magical."
"You're pure blood?" Severus cut in, finally speaking, though the disinterest in his tone was still evident.
Selûne shrugged, "I don't know."
"You don't know?" He questioned, leaning forward a little, clearly disbelieving.
"I'm adopted."
That caused two small gasps, but neither pried. Selûne assumed Severus didn't ask because he didn't care, and she assumed Lily didn't ask out of either respect or neutrality. Muggles often had adopted children- wizards did not. Selûne had always thought it was because of their blood purity thing.
Rosemary had hopped off Lily's lap and was purring at Severus' feet now. It seemed she wanted attention from him as well. He recoiled, the tip of his foot carefully pushing the cat away.
"Are you excited? It's all I could think about since I got my letter!" Lily asked, seafoam eyes bubbling with eagerness.
Selûne shrugged, "Not really."
"What!? You're not excited to learn magic!?"
Selûne shrugged again, dismissive, "I already know magic. I don't know why I have to go."
"You need qualifications." Severus interjected, a small scoff sounded from him, followed by him rolling dark brown eyes.
"If I took my tests now, I could probably pass." Selûne mumbled confidently, "Dad took me on exhibitions. I've fought dragons, helped dad discover weird creatures. If I can do that, I can pass a measly little exam."
Lily blinked, "Dragons!?"
"Dragons." Selûne confirmed, "There's loads of different types, but it's all basic knowledge."
She was rather surprised to see the look of childish eagerness in Lily's eyes. To Selûne, this was stuff she'd known since she could distinguish shapes; she hadn't considered how interesting the topic of magical beasts would be to a muggleborn.
"Well...uh...where do I start..." Selûne tapped her brown checkered skirt with her fingertips, her lips pursed and moving side to side in thought. "There's only eleven breeds...but dad thinks there might be a twelfth- we're still trying to find it. There's uh..there's the Peruvian Vipertooth, Swedish Short-Snout, Antipodean Opaleye— that's my favourite— Chinese and Catalonian fireballs, Ukrainian Ironbelly, Norwegian Ridgeback, Portuguese Long-snout, Hibridean Black, Welsh Green, Romanian Longhorn and Hungarian Horntail dragons. The possible twelfth is a water dragon." She listed, counting each on her fingers to make sure she didn't forget one.
Lily was watching with wide eyes and a slack jaw, intrigue oozed off her like an acid.
"You'll learn it in beasts." Selûne added, not wanting to talk more. She couldn't capture people's attention like her dad could; he seemed to have a gift for making people interested. Perhaps it was just a 'Newt' thing.
Lily nodded, Severus huffed.
"What was it like growing up a muggle?" Selûne asked hesitantly. She didn't know if that was offensive in any way.
"Rather normal, all things considered. I only knew I was a witch because Sev told me- I can make flowers grow, y'know?" She explained excitedly. "Petunia thought I was a freak, though."
Selûne bit the skin of her bottom lip and nodded, "right...that's...that sucks. My brothers think I'm weird, too." She tried to offer some consolation and provide a related anecdote, "They're not really around. I only see them for birthdays and Christmas. Except Eddie, "
"You have brothers?" Lily tilted her head like a puppy.
"Yeah. The oldest is Percival, he's 31. He got married a couple of years ago. He's a magizoologist like Dad." She hummed, "Then there's Roland, he's 29, works at the ministry in centaur relations. Dad always says he wonders how he raised a son who enjoyed his desk job. Then my youngest older brother, Edmund, he lives with his.. partner. I think he's an auror."
Lily listened carefully, "big shoes to fill." she giggled, hoisting Rosemary back onto her lap and petting the cat.
Selûne just nodded dismissively. She didn't like talking about her brothers because they thought she was a brat. Roland especially had never seen her as a sister, probably because he was already 18 by the time she came into the picture.
The train chugged steadily on. Selûne was staring at her cat, who was lounging around the carriage wherever her mismatched heart desired. She thought this was all dreadfully boring and was currently finding entertainment in listening in on Lily and Severus' whispering.
She couldn't really make out what they were saying, but she had made a game of giving herself a point whenever she heard a word correctly. This ended up with the words 'dad' and 'potions' scoring her two sole points by the time the train pulled into the station.
Selûne stared as she got off the train, boats upon boats littered the water surrounding a grand castle. It didn't compare to the winding trees of the Amazon Rainforest, but it was a pretty good second.
"Woah." Lily whispered, bright green eyes wide with awe.
"Woah." Selûne agreed.
Being first years, Selûne, Lily, and Severus were herded off away from the older years and into boats.
"My mother said one kid fell into the water one year." Selûne hummed, trying to instill a little fear into her new friends.
"Don't be ridiculous." Lily rolled her eyes, "It's a wizarding school- the only one in Britain- they wouldn't risk that." though the shakiness in her voice betrayed the underlying worry of that humiliation.
Severus just shot Selûne a glare.
Selûne shrugged, fingers lightly drumming against her thigh as they made their way to the boats- apparently it was some old tradition and they only had to do it once. Selûne hoped someone did actually fall in the water so it would be more memorable.
Despite that silent plea to any gods that would listen, Selûne didn't watch anyone topple into the water and flail like an idiot.
Rosemary in particular seemed to dislike the water, since she was curled up in the girl's lap, claws digging lightly into her thighs. Selûne was trying to soothe the kneazle, but it was to no avail.
They'd been told by the time they reached the castle that their luggage had already been taken inside, and they needn't worry about it. That was good- Selûne had packed probably too much for a perfectly safe school. Her textbooks alone weighed tonnes.
In addition, Rosemary had been taken- pets weren't allowed in the great hall apparently. Allergy reasons, contamination reasons. Selûne personally thought it was all stupid- Kneazles were non-allergenic and perfectly clean.
She'd tried to argue that Rosemary wasn't a mere 'pet', but the squib just shot her a glare and left no room for argument. She wasn't usually prejudiced against muggleborns and Squibs, she just didn't like people who were rude to her and Rosemary.
Selûne had overheard a group of boys chattering about what house they thought they'd be in. Two were certain they'd be Gryffindor, another begrudgingly admitted he'd be in Slytherin with the rest of his family. The fourth boy looked rather unamused, if anything, but noted his father was a Ravenclaw.
She glanced at her new acquaintances, who were chatting quietly. She didn't want to interrupt out of respect. Severus seemed rather worried about something.
The first year funnelled into the great hall, an old man with a long white beard stood in the middle, surrounded by various teachers. Selune recognised Dumbledore immediately- he came for tea once. She remembered he had quite a warm presence, albeit a rather intimidating one.
On a stool sat a rather ragged old hat, a face tangled in the folds of the fabric. She frowned. How many nits from gross kids lived in there? She didn't want to think about it.
"I hope I'm put into Ravenclaw- Sev told me that's where the smart kids go." Lily mused over Selûne's shoulder, making the curly-haired girl jump. "Sev thinks he'll be in Slytherin, though."
A boy called James Potter was called first, which confused Selûne a little because neither J nor P were at the start of the alphabet. But she knew better than to question Dumbledore's odd methods. She assumed he just picked whatever name he could remember.
The boy shuffled up, his face beaming with confidence. Selûne recognised his name: 'Potter'. They were a wealthy family, pure bloods, if she remembered rightly. She never socialised with the pure bloods- Ophelia thought they were too posh for her liking, despite the many dinners they'd been asked to attend over the years.
The scraggly brown hat was placed on his head, and it took no time to deliberate on its answer. "Gryffindor!" It shouted, the table of red-uniformed children erupted into a cheer, welcoming the boy onto their table happily.
Selûne thought this whole process was unnecessarily tedious. There were about 200 children in her year, and she did not want to sit through them all.
Lily was closer to the middle; she, too, was sorted into Gryffindor. Selûne thought everyone good was being sorted into Gryffindor- she could only hope she wasn't put into Slytherin. Even if her parents had assured her it was just a house and didn't mean anything, Selûne had heard too many rumours of dark wizards.
One boy, Sirius Black, rather surprisingly, got upset at being sorted into Gryffindor, rather than Slytherin. Jeers and hisses erupted from the green table, most of them looked angry at that, as if Black could help it. Honestly, the revelation surprised Selûne a little too- all the Blacks had been sorted into Slytherin dating back to Salazar himself. Poor boy, she thought.
When Selûne was finally up, she sat proudly on the stool, kicking her legs.
"A Scamander? Not by blood, it seems, how surprising. There aren't many adopted witches and wizards..." Selûne stifled a huff, "Your brothers were all Ravenclaws, if I remember rightly...except the youngest, he was a Gryffindor." The hat crooned, which made all the pride drain from Selûne. She knew that. She didn't need a hat of all things to tell her.
"Get on with it." She snipped.
"Impatience? Determination, Pride. You'd make a good Slytherin." The hat muttered, "However, there's a loyal, kind heart in there, a very creative mind. So I think...Hufflepuff!"
Selûne breathed a sigh of relief. Just like her father, she was a Hufflepuff.
The girl hopped off the stool, happily joining her Hufflepuff peers. Two fourth-year girls welcomed her with open arms, complimenting her eyes and her freckles, which made her dizzy with pleasure. She hadn't had many compliments from girls her age.
Severus was just behind her; she hoped he ended up in Lily's house, or hers. As grumpy as he was, she didn't think anyone deserved to be completely alone. That's how people go bad.
"Slytherin!" The hat called immediately. Selûne frowned, and Severus looked horrified.
The black haired boy slowly slipped from the stool, joining his peers, head hung. He shot one glance at Lily, who just pouted sympathetically, then to Selûne, though he didn't linger on her very long. If anything, Severus seemed more upset that he wasn't in the same house as Lily than the fact that he didn't know anyone in his house.
The sorting ceremony was exceedingly boring; it was just various shouts of houses, with some muttering and cheering after every one. Only three other students caught Selune's attention.
The first was a Gryffindor boy covered with scratch scars, she remembered him from the bookshop- the one who didn't smell human. Now, looking at him, it seemed completely obvious to Selune's trained eyes that the boy who sat on the stool at the head of the hall was a werewolf.
Another one that caught her attention was another Gryffindor boy. It wasn't really him that caught her eye, more the reaction of a couple of older years hissing and booing him for the hat's result. She thought that was quite interesting.
The final boy to catch her attention was not for a good reason. It took the hat five whole minutes to sort the boy Peter Pettrigrew into Gryffindor, which annoyed her because she was hungry and just wanted to get this tedious ceremony over with.
Selune's head was on the table, half asleep. She was completely exhausted by now, a day of mindless droning to her new classmates and rhythmic chugging of the Hogwarts Express. She didn't have the energy to go through this every first of September for the next seven years. By fourth year, she thought, she'd probably sneak off and skip it.
She wasn't listening to Dumbledore's droning; it was just nonsense about meaningless house cups, pride, Quidditch, and staff changes. Her family didn't follow Quidditch- except Edmund, who went mad for it after his 6th year when his boyfriend, Nathaniel Abbott, joined the Ravenclaw team as a beater. It seemed every time she spoke to Eddie now it was about the latest Quidditch news.
Of course, her parents had tried to be supportive about it, but Newt was always more into 'girly' things, and Ophelia thought the sport was brutish.
Selûne stood up with a start as her table started to file out of the hall, the head girl, a tall black haired girl called Amanda Prewett, was telling the first years how to get to their dormitories and the dorm's password- to tap the barrel next to the entrance in the rhythym of 'Helga Hufflepuff'. It amused Selûne to hear that nobody but her own house could enter their dorms- apparently, the founder had put a jinx on it.
Selûne didn't interact with her other housemates; she preferred to practice spells. After all, she wanted to stay the best, to silently flaunt her family name and her skills to the other students. She couldn't do that if said skills dwindled like a dying fire.
She was quite looking forward to beasts the most— after all, she was amazing at it. However, Selûne was also interested in learning potions. She liked the idea of blowing things up and crafting love potions. She didn't think she'd ever use them- Selûne remembered one time her father's friend Jacob Kowalski had one put on him by his wife, Queenie, and Newt thought it was barbaric.
"Amortentia is...incredibly silly." She remembered him ranting about it after reading about an increase in amortentia-laced marriages. "It's inhumane. If you have to lace someone to make them love you, it's not love it's delusion."
He placed the Daily Prophet in his lap, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Incredible magic, really it is, but I fail to see how it isn't unforgivable."
Selûne had only been eight; she didn't quite understand his passionate dislike. She'd always thought it was quite cool and wanted to use it on a Muggle actress she'd had a crush on; Julie Andrews.
Ophelia had clipped her around the ear and told her not to be so boyish. She hated the ogling, the drooling over her like she were some sort of goddess. To Selûne, she may as well have been. Even so, the girl didn't understand why it was such a problem— She had to hear all about Marilyn Monroe from her brothers.
Unpacking was probably the worst part of her whole day, as if the start-of-year ceremony wasn't boring enough. It was only then that she realised how boring her whole wardrobe was: endless oversized shirts and jumpers, the same high-waisted jeans. More colour would be nice, she always liked colours.
Selûne frowned a little as she shifted the clothes under her bed. At least the Hufflepuff dorms were nice and bright. She was so zoned out that she almost screamed as the door opened, first-year girls funnelling in to get ready for bed. She glanced at the clock, then outside - 10 pm already.
Admittedly, Selûne was a little jealous. To everyone else, it seemed to come naturally to make friends, yet there she was, on her own.
Sure, Selûne had been civilly acquainted with Lily Evans and Severus Snape, but she wouldn't call them friends. Not just yet anyway. At least she had Rosemary, who was sleeping on the end of her bed, purring. She must have been having a good dream.
Selune did her best to ignore the loud chatter from the girls. They'd only been here four hours, and they were already talking about boys they liked the look of. She'd picked up the name 'Sirius Black' four times and the name 'James Potter' twice. She rolled her eyes, whoever they were, she could tell by the general 'appeal' of them, they wouldn't be her type.
The girl sighed, neatly tucking her school robes and casual clothes under her bed, a wave of tiredness washing over her like an insistent wave. As much as her body was begging for sleep, she found herself staring at the stars for a good five minutes. They were so pretty, freckled in the sky and sparkling down onto planet earth, so far out of the human grasp yet so intertwined with human life. Selune wanted nothing more than to make them her whole life.