The first week at Hogwarts was standard, if not, easier than Tiffany had expected. Slowly but surely, she had integrated herself into a group of fifth years that she enjoyed spending time with; the Weasley twins, her three goofy roommates and a newer addition she hadn't officially been introduced to until later in the week, Lee Jordan.
Lee was a Gobstone enthusiast, a flirt and an announcer at all Quidditch games, a gig he got shortly after the twins joined Gryffindor's Quidditch team. There was a running gag about him wanting to date Angelina, but it was too playful that the latter never took him too seriously.
"It's very flattering— well if he were serious." Her roommate commented. Tiffany reserved an opinion for a later date but sent a probing side-eye at the pair.
With this usual crowd, her lessons were enjoyable and were not too different from what she was used to. Tiffany found herself satisfied with both the teaching styles and the content syllabus.
The only exception to this was History of Magic taught by Professor Binns and Potions taught by Professor Snape.
History of Magic was originally a fascinating subject. It taught customs and traditions, lore and heritage. It was an integral part of understanding Wixen society as it was in the past, as it is in the present and as it could be in the future.
Tiffany enjoyed the topic at Ilvermorny, but at Hogwarts, Professor Binns' monotonous and soporific drawl as he recited the textbook without so much as a stutter, was underwhelming.
It was an impressive feat, sure but after hearing it for an hour without pause for breath or questions, it made her wonder what even was the point, after all, she could read the textbook herself and the voices in her head would be much more entertaining. She wondered why no one cared to complain.
Percy had shrugged when she asked, mentioning that History of Magic was more a study period with Binns as white noise in the background. She was not amused but gave a little more time for her impression of Professor Binns to change.
Potions was a little better. Professor Snape was second to none and was worthy of his "Master" title. His recipes are always revised and improved versions of the ones the textbook offered and he could smell a mistake simply standing near a cauldron.
The thing that irked her about his teaching, was his actual 'teaching' or lack thereof. In the first lesson, he had collected holiday homework followed by a round of sarcastic reprimands for repeat offenders; the Weasleys and Lee, then he pointed to a recipe written on the board and asked them to partner and start creating their potions.
There was no safety reminder or equipment check, which shocked her considering how low his injury record was. There were no specified instructions about how an ingredient should be sliced nor how the width could change the potion's properties. It was all assumed knowledge that looked like her peers did not know. There was also no constructive criticism, just sarcasm and looming pressure.
She knew Professor Snape was odd. He was a genius. She knew geniuses learnt in ways that were not teachable. So why was he teaching?
"Passable." Professor Snape drawled and Tiffany held her tongue of something sarcastic as she wrote herself a quick evaluation and some thoughts for improvement.
'Passable. Tsk, I'll show you passable.'
It was on her way to dinner on Friday that she finally got a notice from Professor Flitwick about their first Duel lesson the following evening.
Tiffany's smile brightened as she read the note over and Hermione glanced at her curiously.
Despite being third years and her juniors, the trio; Hermione, Ron and Harry, had remained adamant about being her friend. They often took the spots around her during meals before her fellow fifth years or Percy could fight for it.
It was really cute and made Tiffany's heart stutter a little with sweetness. She liked them a lot and liked that they liked her just as much.
"It's from Professor Flitwick. I have my first duel lesson with him tomorrow."
"Duelling?" Harry paled, remembering his last duelling lesson had been with Gilderoy Lockheart, leaving him ousted as a Paselmouth and shunned by the school.
"Mhm, I have a competition in October, so I gotta stay in tip-top shape!" She gave him a flex of her bicep and a wink, making him smile. "Did you lot want to watch?"
"Can we?" Hermione's eyes brightened with interest and Tiffany found herself indulging her curiosity with a quick nod.
"You can. It'll be after dinner tomorrow so I feel there might be some strays watching as well. I know a few seventh years will watch as well as some professors."
"Okay, maybe we'll get to do something," Ron asked, hopefully.
"I hope so too. I heard there was a Duel Club last year but it was a bust, no?" Ron snorted and Hermione intervened.
"The Defence against the Dark Arts teacher was a fraud and there was only one session before it became clear it wasn't working."
"Did you like duelling?"
"Harry's brilliant at it— you know, before his little hissy thing and Hermione got into a fistfight with Millicent Bulstrode. That's where her cat hair—," Harry covered Ron's blabbering mouth and Tiffany looked at them amused.
"Cat hair? Millicent Bulstrode's cat hair?" She teased. There was something mysterious about that topic that left Hermione uneasy and Ron looking at his two friends in apology.
"It doesn't matter. You guys are entitled to your secrets. It's like that one time Percy and I were caught—, well never mind." She smiled wickedly then left the trio to stew in their curiosity as she started on her dinner.
Today's meal was a shepherd's pie; a dish of mince and vegetables topped with mashed potato. There was a platter of roasted cauliflower cheese, roast pumpkin steamed carrots and green beans. She slowly scooped into her food and after a hearty mouthful, felt a warm contentment in her heart.
"Hermione used Bulstrode's cat hair in her polyjuice and became a cat girl!" Ron blabbered abruptly. "Now, please tell me what you and Percy were doing."
Hermione glared at him with betrayal from across the table and Harry nudged him with his shoulder.
"I'm sorry! But this is something juicy about Percy of all people. I have to know. 'Sides it's Tiffany. You'll tell her anyways."
"How loyal of you Ron." Hermione huffed but wasn't mad at him.
"Wait— You stole polyjuice and put cat hair in it?" She asked incredulously.
"It wasn't stolen polyjuice," Hermione whispered and Tiffany gave a sharp inhale.
"You MADE polyjuice? No way…—?!" The older witch looked over them in disbelief. "How are you three not famous? Polyjuice at twelve, was it?" Hermione nodded in confirmation.
The hall was its usual rowdy and no one was paying them any much attention, so she was alone with the ludicrousy of it all, gaping at them. One does not just— make a Polyjuice Potion.
"Well, I quite prefer not to be more famous than I am, thank you," Harry added cheekily.
"I want the full story before we go to bed tonight otherwise I won't be able to sleep." Tiffany finally conceded, her initial shock wore away and was replaced by immense curiosity.
"For now, eat your dinner." She gave a gentle command and focused on her plate, trying to sort her thoughts.
'This— this is crazy. Could I have done that at that age?'
Tiffany did not have to pry who the mastermind was, by Hermione's futile attempt to hide her smugness.
'Cute.' The older witch thought, continuing to finish off her plate. She suppressed her curiosity and pulled the trio into a casual conversation about their day.
The Gryffindor mixed crew left the dining hall together. Her yearmates slinked away to the library to meet an assignment deadline and Tiffany led the three younger wixen to a secluded nook in the Gryffindor commons area, sinking into her usual beaten leather armchair. The trio, like children crowding around around a teacher, sat in a semi-circle close to her.
"Alright. Spill, I want to know everything!"
The trio looked at each other hesitantly before Hermione spoke up. She started with their assumptions about who the Heir of Slytherin was.
"Wait— what's the Heir to Slytherin?" Tiffany interrupted causing Hermione to pause and quickly fill her in about the Chamber of Secrets and the petrifications that were happening around school.
"Hermione! I'm pretty sure that's pertinent to the story." She ridiculed. "How can such a detail be told on a tangent like that?"
"I forgot you weren't here last year. It slipped my mind that you didn't already know."
Hermione continued telling her story. About Harry being outed as a Paselmouth— to which Tiffany gave Harry a "Wow. That's so cool, Haz. You're a snake whisperer!" only for the wizard to dead-pan how snakes only care about devouring their prey whole.
The younger Gryffindor then went on to find the recipe in the Moste Potente Potions, a book from the library's restricted area.
"That's a really good and rare read. I read my brother's copy often." Tiffany approved.
Hermione mentioned they brewed the potion for a month in the abandoned girl's lavatory on the second floor.
"Moaning Myrtle," Ron shivered in mild disgust.
"Myrtle's the ghost that haunted the bathroom," Harry added.
"She spent most of that time wailing. It was awfully depressing." Hermione shook her head.
The story continued with Ron and Harry successfully obtaining their target's DNA and the three of them drank their potions to confront Draco Malfoy on Christmas Day.
"Draco Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin?" She was piqued with interest.
"Shh, we're almost there." Harry admonished lightly. He decided to continue the story on how weird it felt to have his body morph into someone else.
"It was the worst. It felt like I was being boiled from the inside. Then after a few moments of pain, it was gone. Then my body changed rapidly. My hand went poof and it stretched larger and I got taller. That part was nice." Hary animatedly explained, much to Tiffany's horror.
'Boiled?!'
"Hermione refused to come out so we could only leave without her."
Harry and Ron, disguised as Crabbe and Goyle left to probe Draco in the Slytherin commons room.
"It was a nightmare. I thought I'd crack under the pressure. It didn't help that I wanted to punch Malfoy in his mouth, the git." Ron reminisced.
"As soon as we felt the potion wearing off, we bolted out of there and crashed into the actual Crabbe and Goyle still looking like them. It was crazy. It wasn't until later we realised what happened to Hermione. She spent weeks in the medi-bay trying to reverse the spell." Harry concluded.
"To be honest, I want to see it," Tiffany gushed wistfully, "I think Hermione would have been a really cute cat-girl."
Hermione grimaced at the thought, haunted by Myrtle's mocking and cackling laughter. The boys did not comment, not wanting to attract the ire of their female friend.
"So the Heir to Slytherin? That's a mighty title." Tiffany whistled lowly, "So it wasn't Heir Malfoy that was petrifying people?… No? Then who?"
"Voldemort," Harry whispered. Ron flinched and Hermione looked over Harry worried. Tiffany's horror deepened.
These are pre-teens. She, herself, was barely fifteen. A Dark Lord was in the middle of Hogwarts. In the middle of Hogwarts, possessing teachers and petrifying students. She frowned at the ludicrousy. It would be no telling how safe it was.
"Harry, we don't have to talk about everything if it makes you uncomfortable. I'm happy I know about the events that led Hermione to being a cat-girl." She teased light-heartedly, the mood swaying a little more towards relief. "Is there someone you can trust to talk to? An adult, maybe?"
The prolonged silence spoke for itself as the three looked at each other in hesitant contemplation. Ron's face dropped into a distrustful frown, a feeling she was familiar with.
"I'm not going to tell anyone. I firstly want to know that you three are safe and feel safe here." They nodded in response.
"Are you sure?" She eyed Harry specifically.
"I'm sure." Harry reaffirmed.
"Okay. We're safe, check. Second, let me reprimand you three!" She lightly pinched their knees, her lip pursed in scolding. Hermione smothered her laughter and although Harry felt Tiffany was being playful, he couldn't suppress the little flinch as she pinched him.
The older witch did not notice or did not acknowledge it and Harry relaxed again, enjoying the bizarre care that Tiffany gave them.
"There are a lot of things that can go wrong with polyjuice. Many times, like this one, where Hermione turns into a cat hybrid and spends weeks in recovery. But some people have an advert reaction that could cause permanent damage." She gave them a glare, "And I suppose you lot didn't test if you had any allergens?"
"Uh—," Hermione was flustered at the obvious blunder.
"Speaking of allergies, do you have any?" Tiffany side-tracked, genuinely curious.
"No, I do not," Hermione replied softly, her mind in deep contemplation. Ron followed suit, with a quiet shake of his head. Harry gave a thoughtful look.
"I don't know. I've never checked." He responded.
His aunt had never taken him to have a check-up before if he could remember. He was lucky he had never had an allergic reaction to anything.
"Well Harry, we'll take an allergy test, okay?—It's only a small one," She noted his obvious aversion and tried to reassure him, "We don't want another scare if you lot decide to illegally brew and consume another high-level potion."
"You should also check if you're allergic to Veritaserum," She hesitated, then added, "I'm also assuming you haven't taken your immunisations?"
The young boy shook his head, his fluffy hair like silk as it moved.
"Let's talk with Poppy and we'll get it sorted."
"Poppy?"
"Madam Pomfrey, the medi-witch— she's one of my mother's old school friends."
Tiffany's attention was pulled away from her juniors to Percy, stoic and proper, standing in wait a few meters away. There was an exchange of looks. Percy then shrugged, sent her a quick wink and silently strolled away.
Ron looked between the two with a sour face, disbelief that someone as pretty and cool as Tiffany would want a Percy.
"Are you sure you two are not dating?" Hermione blurted, leaning towards her. This had been a repetitive topic the last week and it always made her laugh.
"With Percy? No, we're not dating," She snickered, "We are very close though. I consider him my other half in all ways but blood. However, if I ever felt more than friendly love, Percy would make a wonderful lover."
Ron wrinkled his nose.
"Blimey… You know, he's a prat, right?" Tiffany laughed.
"No, I wasn't aware. I'll let him know the next time I see him."
Harry felt a tinge of discomfort that often hit him whenever the topic became about romance. He had no real examples of love. The only ones are the couples he's seen around school or his uncle and aunt.
He did not understand why Percy was her "other half" and not her boyfriend. Why did they act like a couple but were not a couple? He felt it was better to leave it alone, it did not bother him if they were dating.
"So, you're single then," Ron asked.
"As a pringle, Monsieur." She assured.
"Cool." Ron croaked and Tiffany did not have the heart to laugh, even if she did find it funny that her best friend's little brothers were hitting on her.
"Okay!" Tiffany clapped, gathering their attention, "We will speak with Madam Pomphrey first thing tomorrow. Immunisations for Harry then Duel the same night."
She shooed the boys away, willing them to sleep well, before leading Hermione away to the girls' dormitory. She hugged the younger witch goodbye and then trudged into her room.
Tiffany quickly stripped down and changed into one of the big t-shirts she brought from home that smelt faintly like nicotine and gasoline then slipped under her covers.
The revelations given today gave her a lot to think about. The existence of the Dark Lord was not publicised, despite Dumbledore's awareness. There was a long pause when she mentioned talking to an adult, Harry's apprehensiveness as he gauged her reaction to him being a Parselmouth and the relief that followed. It was a lot to think about and Tiffany did the best she could to shove it all to the back of her mind so she could sleep.
Early the next morning, the trio had been accompanied by Tiffany to the medi-bay. Madam Pomfrey was quick to administer Harry and Hermione's first dosage of Dragon Pox immunisation, an allergen checks as well as a well-being checkup.
"Mr Potter, I'll be honest. Your results indicate old fractures that did not heal properly and malnutrition." The young wizard was glad that Tiffany had ushered his two friends to wait outside as Madam Pomfrey spoke about his medical results. "Although this was prevalent in your last check-up, your nutrition levels have dropped dramatically since then."
Harry did not want to talk about being punished by the Dursleys after he inflated Aunt Marge and left her to float away. Vernon knew he was not allowed to perform magic outside of school and relished his expulsion after his letter from the Ministry came.
Luckily, it was only a cautionary letter and not a summons. The aurors came and caught Marge then obliviated her of the memory. Still, Harry was locked away and starved shortly after his thirteenth birthday and only came out to cook or clean, his Aunt feeding him cold leftovers through a cat flap.
"I'll put you on a supplementary diet and have you report here every evening for the next two weeks and see how things go." Harry looked distraught. He didn't want to be here more than he needed to, and Madam Pomfrey seemed aware of this.
"The only other option is you are hospitalised for a week to forcefully recover, but it will hurt a lot more. You can also report to Miss Williams to write your medical report, however, you must come to me every week to check your progress."
The young wizard chose the latter option, hoping he didn't have to report to his friend. Pomfrey took in his complacency and called Tiffany in, causing Harry to pale.
After explaining what was happening, Tiffany eagerly agreed, much to the young wizard's distress. She hugged Madam Pomfrey after confirming Harry had no allergens, promising to have tea with her another time then led Harry away.
"You don't have to worry about the potions. I promise I'll take them all on time." Harry whispered. Ron and Hermione had left them behind to bicker about something she couldn't hear of.
"It's not about promises, Haz. Someone will need to witness so it's recorded that you took the treatment and in the future, doctors can see what types of treatments you went through and how that will affect future treatments." Tiffany explained.
"Have you noticed that Madam Pomfrey never leaves you alone when you drink potions from her? She hands it to you, watches you drink it and takes the potion from your hand. Then ensure you won't spit it out before she leaves. It's the standard procedure. I hope you'll let me help you, okay?" Tiffany softly pleaded with the young wizard.
Harry nodded, not quite understanding but agreed to comply.
"I know it's overwhelming to suddenly be medicated when you feel perfectly fine. But I hope you'll trust that your med-witch or healer is dedicated to improving your health. We can always get a second and third opinion. I am in favour of another check-up or a St Mungo's visit. Is that okay?"
Harry shook his head.
"No more doctors. I'll trust in Madam Pomfrey."
Tiffany nodded and the four Gryffindors joined their house to eat breakfast. Fred and George saved Tiffany a seat between them and the trio sat a few people over since the seats closer were full.
"Good Morning Fan." George dramatically fluttered his eyelashes.
"Hello Georgie~, have any sweet dreams?"
"Oh many, most starring me and you on a lovely vacation abroad." George flirted, causing Tiffany to laugh.
"Abroad you say? Why Georgie, that'd be the most expensive first date I've ever been on. How 'bout we skip and go straight to the boom closet."
"Say no more!" George stood abruptly only for Percy to place his hand on Tiffany's head to stop her from following his lead and also standing.
"No broom closets or I'll owl your mother. Your mother too." He directed the last part to George. "Pen, you have a competition to win and OWLs to study for. You'll have no time for broom closet buffoonery."
Percy was right, as Percy always was. After a playful pout and a chuckle at a dramatically disappointed red-headed twin, Tiffany settled into her seat, breakfast fibrous and healthy only for a large shadow to loom over her.
Glancing upwards, her green eyes wandered over the half-giant groundskeeper, Hagrid. She had seen him infrequently around the school, a very large being with a heart of gold. Ron had mentioned his aversion for Hagrid's affection for dangerous and 'ugly' pets and Harry was quick to defend that the giant just had a lot of love to give.
' "Acromantula." Ron shivered.'
The half-giant was rubbing his hands awkwardly as he waited to get her attention.
"I ain't mean to bother yer—,"
"Is Tempest bothering you Hagrid? I'm so sorry—,"
"Oh, no. No, the lass fits right in. Was just— if she'd let me look at her? I've always wanted to pet her but— only for a little."
Tiffany gave him a swift nod.
"I'll call her back for you after breakfast Hagrid, if that's okay?"
"Yes yes! Thank you. I'll— you eat. Okay, I'll see you." Hagrid smiled, strolled away with an eager gait and Tiffany wrinkled her nose in indulgence. What a bizarrely cute old man.
The witch ate her breakfast with vigour, passing the casual conversation with her friends in favour of calling Tempest for the groundskeeper. She waved Hagrid over as she made her way out of the dining hall and into the courtyard.
Pulling the chain from under her shirt, she gathered a small, wooden whistle and blew into it softly. The sound barely echoed but it was enough as the distant squark of a familiar beast and the humming of her wings slowly became more and more pronounced, the Thunderbird had landed a meter from Tiffany's body, cooing in greeting.
"Hi Tem, you look happy." The witch gave her a look-over. Her feathers retained their glossy coat, nicely groomed and not gone astray. Her sharp eyes showed no signs of distress and even her playfulness let Tiffany know that she was okay.
Tempest nipped at her with her beak, as if finding her silly for worrying and she could only exasperatingly rub the back of her fingers on the crown of her head.
"Just let me mother you Tem. Even if you can look after yourself." If animals could roll their eyes, Tiffany felt that this would be the perfect opportunity for her maybe-teenage-daughter beast-pet to do so.
"I called to introduce you to someone. This is Hagrid. He's the keeper of keys and looks after the animals in the Forbidden Forest. He's like Cata."
Tiffany winced as soon as she said that, missing the woman a little more than she had anticipated.
Catalina Pineneedle, Care of Creatures' Professor and Ilvermorny's groundkeeper, was one of Tiffany's first tentative friends at the school. She was strong and intelligent, with a viciously mean streak. Despite not being necessarily friendly, the young witch found herself more often than not, in her professor's care and it was with Catalina that she bonded with Tempest.
The silent brass whistle Tiffany had was a gift from the older witch. It was a no-maj invention used for dogs that were not as abrasive and loud as a regular whistle.
It was also a gag gift since Tiffany always felt a tad embarrassed calling Tempest out
loud when she cannot see her, even if Tempest could hear her.
Hagrid was already cooing at Tempest and was no different from the witch in her thoughts. If Hagrid could deal with Cata's haughty attitude, then Tiffany felt they'd be good friends.
"Well, ain't you a beauty." Tiffany could tell his years of creature experience by the distance he kept from the bird, allowing it to initiate their communication.
"Do you have a lot of avian magical creatures here, Hagrid?" Tiffany asked.
"We've a few hippogriffs. Pro'ly the only real dominate predatory type."
Tiffany wrinkled her nose at the conundrum. She couldn't forcefully ask the herd to spare her Tempest if she ended up crossing paths with them. Although she was a powerful bird, she's still quite young and awfully proud. She would not bode well going against a herd of hippogriff almost twice her size.
"Tem, we'll stay away from the herd, okay?" Tempest's eyes sharpened at her. "I'll be honest. You've never had to deal with a hippogriff at the Reserve but you know better than to cause a territory issue as a visitor."
"She'll be 'right, won't you lass?" Hagrid had rose-tinted eyes that could sparkle if he wanted them to. Tempest could do no wrong in those eyes.
She shook her head at the pair then quickly bid them farewell as she went to her classes.