I hadn't found what I was looking for in the library, but I doubted becoming an animagus was something I could do this year anyway even if I found a complete guide in the library on my first day.
Now, Friday afternoon, I found myself on the sixth floor in what looked like a ballroom with all the other 'ignorant' muggleborn or those raised in the muggle world. Harry, at my insistence, had devulged what he knew to the girls of our house to ease their nerves a little.
Kevin Entwhistle stood off to the side, still pretending we didn't exist. Surely, he was lamenting the fact that both Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot already had their P.S.Y. certificate and didn't attend Magical Etiquette.
For the girls, there were Hermione, Sue, and Lisa, who, despite having a witch for a mother, didn't attend a magical preschool.
As I looked around, I noticed not a single Slytherin student came as suspected, but I was very much surprised to see that Gryffindor had only sent Dean Thomas and a girl named Kellah McTaggart that I wasn't sure was part of cannon or not. The first name faintly rang a bell in my head, but the entire person and last name were not in my memories.
For Hufflepuff, I saw Justin Finch-Fletchley who was rather famously muggleborn as one of the basilisk's target in the second year of canon, and another boy called Oliver Rivers, who I didn't have much of an impression of. Then there were two girls, for whom I had the same problem with as I did with Kellah.
I knew one of their first names, but the rest of their existence escaped my knowledge. There was Leanne Matthews and Leonora Miller. Both looked like you would miss them in a crowd even if you were looking for them, but they looked spirited nonetheless.
All this concluded, I counted no Slytherins, 4 Hufflepuffs, 6 Ravenclaws, and only 2 Gryffindors. Only twelve out of forty-seven students attending our year, with half of us being Ravenclaws, were not raised in the wizarding world.
To me, that number really put into perspective just how little actual muggleborns there were. No wonder most family trees in the wizarding world were circles... especially considering that Harry and I also weren't truly muggleborn at the very minimum.
As we waited patiently without really knowing what was about to happen, a kindly looking older witch entered the room with her greying hair neatly put in a bun.
"Hello, children. I am Mafalda Hopkirk, your first teacher for Magical Etiquette, and let me just tell you that I am absolutely delighted to be able to stand here in front of all of you," she introduced herself with a beaming expression while decidedly looking at Harry way too long.
'Huh, she was rather instrumental to the later story, no? Didn't Hermione polyjuice into her to free the muggleborn from the death eater concentration camps or something?'
"Before we begin introducing ourselves, let me just remind you that the British Ministry of Magic has the complete intention to integrate all of you into our world as best we can," she added with a sweet smile that once more lingered on Harry.
'She came here for Harry, then? She wasn't on the side of the Death Eaters to my knowledge... a mission from Fudge? Or personal gain?'
"Now, I will go ahead and give you my full title before you may say a little about yourself. As mentioned, I am Mafalda Hopkirk, and I have worked the Ministry for over thirty years. I currently hold the position of Commander-in-Chief of the Improper Use of Magic Office. As such, I personally sign every warning sent to little troublemakers for the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery - it is a good thing not knowing my name already, then. Right?"
Whatever her agenda, at least she wasn't a die-hard death eater to put all of us down, apparently.
"We also apprehend all those who broke the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy and coordinate the Obliviators to make sure no muggle knows of our existence," she concluded and looked toward me for the first time with an unreadable expression without explaining anything to those of us who knew nothing about Obliviators or any of the other things she mentioned.
"How about you start then? Tell us a little of your family," she urged.
'I'm 99% sure the dark faction or those in Voldemort's inner circle knows my father since my mother's name is known... is she looking for confirmation for something, or did Walden Macnair do something to her? Ugh, reign in your paranoia...'
I stood up, bowed lightly, which earned me an appreciative nod from the older witch, and started to introduce myself.
"Talion Macnair, son of Selena Macnair. I was born on the 31st of July in 1980 and have been at the St Myra Orphanage since the 2nd of August of the same year, according to the matron. I learned of my magical heritage in small amounts when Professor Babbling took me to Diagon Alley to get my school supplies after my Hogwarts letter arrived."
Hearing no falsehoods despite the half-truths I was telling her, Miss Hopkirk gave me a solemn nod after her curiosity was sated. If I had to guess, whatever faction she belonged to, they didn't know about my father but were curious about Walden Macnair's grandson regardless. He was a high-ranking ministry worker, after all.
Next followed the introduction of everyone else who included the profession of their parents, like Lisa, whose father was a muggle pilot while her mother worked as a clerk at a quidditch supply manufacturer.
It didn't sound like Lisa's mother enjoyed her job, and if I'd have to guess, I'd say she was a muggleborn who wanted to learn enchanting and was instead taken advantage of for the past decade and a half. A story I was sure happened constantly in our society.
And then, Harry eventually came last after Hermione told us about her dentist parents.
"Harry James Potter. I grew up with acquaintances of my mother in the muggle world," was all he said before sitting down again.
'I should not have expected more... interesting thing to call his uncle and aunt acquaintances, though. Calling them family would make me cringe anyway, Petunia and Vernon did everything in their power to appear as anything but. Do I pry later? Or I take him to Madam Pomfrey today in the hopes he opens up?'
Madam Hopkirk, as she preferred to be called, continued telling us about the common sense of the wizarding world when she realized Harry wouldn't open up more. She started off telling us about the various functions of the ministry and the current leadership.
I learned that more than 'the executioner', Walden Macnair was actually the vice department head of the department responsible for clearing dangerous magical creatures. I was pretty sure he used the position to illegally obtain creature ingredients while using the position to fill his sadistic urge to kill stuff, but the point was moot. Walden was dead.
We also learned that Harry's father used to be an auror during the last wizarding war, Madam Hopkirk seemed oddly proud of the fact. Yet, Harry seemed unimpressed despite hearing about how promising his father's career would have been had he lived. I could understand the pain behind knowing such a thing under his circumstances if I was honest with myself.
At the end of the first lesson, Madam Hopkirk told us that we would start talking about the entry-level positions at the ministry we could take later on in life or even do unpaid internships at. I was less than impressed, though I recognised the ministry wouldn't do this thing for nothing. Some propaganda was inevitable... and if the chances for muggleborn students weren't so bleak, I would commend them for the effort.
The release from this class meant I finally had the rest of the day off. I more or less dragged the girls and Harry a floor down, handed them their stuff near the common room entrance that was still in my extended pouch, and ran off.
'Time to implement some more plans,' I thought as I ran down toward the basement in search of a certain painting with a bowl of fruit.
I came across a few Hufflepuffs that gave me weirded out looks as I spoke to the paintings in the corridors but quickly found what I was looking for. Tickling the pear and turning the doorknob it turned into, I eagerly entered the Hogwarts kitchen.
"Oho, Master student, you found us on your first day?" An overly enthusiastic voice squeaked out as I stood near the end of the tunnel to a giant open space kitchen with dozens of fireplaces and ingredients hanging everywhere.
"Hi, I'm Talion! I was wondering if I could maybe gain your assistance with something?"
The house elf immediately nodded fast enough to make me fear his head would fall off, which was an entirely different demeanor compared to my house elf Patrick. But I thought nothing of it and pulled out a bunch of recipe books.
From cuisines of different nations to recipe books for baked goods, I brought it all. And handed it over to the elf who looked like I just gave him the holy grail despite not knowing what this was.
"I would like to gift all of you these recipe books I gathered during my childhood. Do you think you could sometimes cook something for me from these books? If there's something you don't understand, you can always ask me! I know my way around a kitchen," I gently inquired as I proudly gestured to myself since I was on kitchen duty most of the time in the orphanage.
Nobody needed to know that peeling potatoes and making stew were the highlight of my culinary expertise, but I could always be a taste tester or tell them how a meal should look like.
"Nitwit will do!" The elf cried out with tears in its eyes.
'Huh, Nitwit really was the name of a house elf along with Blubber, Tweak, and Oddment?'
"Nice, I'm really counting on you! Not that I doubt you guys can't cook, it's all been delicious thus far, but I think a few changes here and there could lessen your boredom and give you a goal to strive toward," I offered the crying house elf in praise and quickly added. "You can cook whatever you want, of course. But I'd love to eat some pizza if you guys don't mind. It's in that red and green book with the white lettering in the middle."
I hadn't eaten pizza once since I was reincarnated because the orphanage subscribed to the belief of taking all the money you would earn and never giving out pocket money. The menu in the orphanage left a lot to be desired, too. But all that would change now.
After thanking the elves once more, which made Nitwit cry even more, I was quickly ushered out so that the elves could fight over who would read which book first.
A little under two hours left until dinner, so I once more asked the paintings to lead me somewhere. This time, it was to the infirmary. Dumbledore left me with a cursed wound right on my face, so I doubted I had ever seen a magical healer. These last fourteen years, I really wondered how he thought that was going to go. Was a wound that hurt all my life and disfigure me help build character or something?
"What do you need, dear?" Poppy Pomfrey, resident healer at Hogwarts, asked as I gingerly tapped the doorframe to announce my presence as I entered the infirmary's open door.
"Hello, Healer Pomfrey. My name's Talion Macnair. I grew up in the muggle world, and I was wondering if there's anything I needed to know? Magical flu shots or vaccinations that I might need? I can pay, if necessary," I cautiously asked the grey-haired witch.
Dragon pox was a thing and apparently, you can get vaccinated against it but there's at the very least Harry's grandparents and one pureblood lord from House Black who died to it, which sounded ridiculous if a vaccination was available. Not that there weren't plenty of muggle idiots who refused to take vaccinations. Also, starting the conversation like this would slowly allow me to get to the real reason I came here - getting rid of the scars and getting information on potential body strengthening potions.
"How prudent," the healer praised with her lips thinning a little. "I have always advocated to have those coming from the muggle world to go to St Mungo's for a checkup with the professor guiding them to Diagon Alley, but it fell on deaf ears. Taking your health seriously is paramount, Mister Macnair. So come on in. It's a quiet day, and I have time for a thorough checkup."
Madam Pomfrey cast a whole array of spells on me for the next few minutes after I ditched my robe and unbuttoned my shirt behind a screen. Her frown tightened when she saw me covered in burn scars, but she didn't ask since I didn't tell. I was pretty sure I was not the first student to come here with wounds like these.
"Save for your scar on your face none of these have magical residue. I do not have the potion needed on hand, but rest assured. Fixing these... burn marks is of no concern. For the scar above your nose, I'm afraid it will have to stay like this. I see a cutting curse was used to inflict it upon you at a very young age, and your own magic eventually awakened to get rid of the dark magical residue?"
I nodded in assent and described the scar and how it went from hurting with black edges over the scar to itching and paling more and more every day. Madam Pomfrey merely affirmed her diagnosis once more and told me the way the scar healed more or less branded the imperfection into my being, but I was okay with it. A pale line over my nose was nothing compared to hardened, hurting scar tissue from a cigarette burn.
"You can come tomorrow to have the scars removed. I suggest you come before lunch. Is there anything else you need, Mister Macnair?"
I nodded and lowered my voice despite there not being anyone else in the room.
"My roommate, I think he might have had it worse than me in the muggle world. Can I bring him tomorrow and assure him you won't tell a soul if he doesn't wish it? I saw it by accident because he didn't hear me waking up this morning... I don't think it's going to be easy to get him to open up."
Pomfrey's frown tightened significantly, but she quickly explained, "I took a healer's oath. Unless his guardian specifically comes to ask, I cannot reveal anything to anyone."
"But, isn't the headmaster the magical guardian of every orphan attending Hogwarts if they come from the muggle world?"
Pomfrey knitted her brows into a frown for a moment, then nodded, "Indeed he is. Is that a problem?"
'Ugh, finally confirmation on that plotline, though I wish the answer would have been something different. So the headmaster is my guardian, too? And for four more years, too... I'll have to be careful with the business I do outside Hogwarts lest he gets interested for one reason or another...'
"I'm not sure. We'll have to be open about it because I don't think he's too trusting of any adult after what he probably went through," I answered in proxy of Harry before quickly adding. "I'll be honest, I'm more or less speaking for myself, too. If he went through the same or worse, I'm not sure he'll like it... or I'm speaking out of turn - who knows?"
I scratched the back of my head with a sheepish smile to ease the tension that was slowly building in the room. I needed to do something else to change the subject, and thankfully, I had one prepared.
"On a related note, he is also rather scrawny. I'm pretty sure, like me, he'll not have eaten his fill for most of his life. Are there nutritional potions that help with gaining body mass? In the muggle world, there are these illegal drugs that help build muscle - even just concentrated protein shakes that are legal that help building muscle through training... is there something like that he and I can take to help us fill out a little?"
Madam Pomfrey gained an amused smile at the very end, but it quickly vanished back to a solemn expression. Malnutrition was just sugarcoating that we were starved, and she likely knew it. Well, at least I was 'starved' out of necessity since there simply wasn't enough food for everyone every day of the week. And even then, calling it starving me was a bit of a stretch. It was nothing like Harry, who was starved out of malice.