(c) to Icarus. @ TDA

“It is no mystery
What you get is what you see…
I'm onto your game
And I'm laying the blame.”
Blacklist by Exodus


I leapt up, startled, fists swinging.

“What? Shit! Damn! Fucking llamas!” I spluttered, remembering the dream I’d had about llamas chasing me through Hogwarts and eating all the food in the kitchens.

It was some scary shit, man.

“Llamas?” Vincent inquired, looking at me curiously.

“Don’t ask…” I held up my hand and yawned. “Dammit Dominique,” I glared at her. “What is it?”

“We’re almost at Hogwarts,” She smiled sheepishly.

“Thanks for the info,” I rolled my eyes as I combed my hair back into place and straightened my robes.

“I tried to stop her,” Vincent offered.

“Well, you did a shit job Vin,” Benjamin teased.


“Look it’s fine, I’m up now, aren’t I?” I sighed and fixed my make-up before sitting back down beside Vincent. “You’re such a little shit,” I told Dom.

“Well then that makes two of us,” She tapped my nose and I bit at her.

I pulled out my Parley and began going through all my social media sites. I scrolled through my Muggle Instagram, my wizard Owlstagram, my Muggle Snapchat, my wizard Owlchat, and my email. I have to have Muggle and wizarding social media, because of my mother was a Muggle and so I was raised with Muggle friends as much as wizard friends.

Yes, I’m basically living a double life.

No, I am not Hannah Montana.

“You put up pictures of me sleeping?” I sighed loudly as I clicked past the selfie of Dom and I to a picture of me sleeping on Dom’s Portrait. A Portrait was a post on Owlchat that anyone could view however many times they wanted in 24 hours.

“Only one.” Dominique grinned at me.

“You win all the best friend awards, Dominique Apolline Weasley.”

“I know.” Dom put her chin on top of her hands and tilted her head in the fake angel pose.

I rolled my eyes as I saw the train pulling to a stop. Our little group filed out of our compartment. I wasn’t sure if our fifth seat in the carriage would be filled, because Dom and I’s other friends always complained about having to sit with two couples.

Apparently, we were “obnoxiously affectionate.” This statement was clearly intended for Dominique, but because I had a boyfriend, I was also dragged into it.

“Hi guys, can I steal this seat?” A quiet voice came from the doorway of the carriage.

We looked up to see Abbott Longbottom standing before us.

“Yeah, of course.” I smiled and motioned to the seat beside me. Abbott took the seat graciously and dropped her bag on the floor.

She had her blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail and she wore the bland Hogwarts robes, but I could see high-top, white Converse underneath them. Abbott was pretty, but she didn’t make an effort. She never wore make-up and she never dressed like she cared.

Abbott was quiet and shy, but literally the nicest girl I’ve ever met. She played on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, one of the three girls on the team, and she kicked arse as a Chaser. We bonded, because we were roommates and I was one of the team managers.

I didn’t actually play because of a long story that resulted in a lifelong phobia of playing in Quidditch matches, but a continuing love of Quidditch.

“I think something big is going on this year.” Dominique’s voice was lowered.

“Don’t talk so low! I’m almost borderline deaf,” I proclaimed loudly.

“No wonder you can’t whisper for shit,” Benny chortled.

“Oh wow, you’re hilarious Ben, please go ahead make fun of the deaf girl!”

“You’re not legally deaf!” He protested.

“Merlin, would you two put a sock in it!” Vincent cried as he clapped his hands over his ears. “I hate it when my parents fight!” His eyes watered quite believably.

“I was talking!” Dom yelled loudly, only adding to cacophony that was rising from our carriage. “Godric! You’re all wonky!”

I kicked Ben in the shins. “Can it!”

“Okay, Dommie, please continue.” Ben inclined his head to her and she huffed loudly before continuing.

“I was saying that there’s something different going on this year, because my parents were talking about how some important Ministry officials were coming to Hogwarts as well. Like my Uncle Harry, Aunt Hermione, Minister Shacklebolt, Mr. Elton Wedgeworth, who is one of the British seats at the International Confederation of Wizards, and Mrs. Daphne Burke, who is the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Scorpius Malfoy’s aunt.” Dom was talking feverishly fast. “Do you people understand what this could mean?”

Ben, Vincent, and I exchanged glances. Abbott had her nose buried in a book, but looked up over the binding, mildly intrigued.

“Uh no,” Vincent mumbled.

“It means that the Triwizard Tournament is happening again!”

“Are you sure?” Benjamin asked doubtfully.

“Well, no, but it’s a good guess,” Dominique muttered, a bit put off.

“I highly doubt that’s what this is, a guy died last time they held the Triwizard Tournament,” Vincent mused. “The people who witnessed said death are like our parents’ age and some of them were our parents. Dominique, your own mum was a champion!”

“And wasn’t that when Voldemort came back to life?” I asked, vaguely remembering a statement about it in my history textbook.

“I thought he never died…” Benjamin looked at me in puzzlement.

“Well, I mean that he was reborn with like a new body and all.” I waved my hand.

“Oh yeah, that’s right.”

“Well, anyways!” Dom reclaimed our attention. “Something big is happening, I promise you that.”

“Don’t you think that they’d tell us beforehand if it was that big?” Vincent asked.

“Or at least our parents,” I piped up.

“You just wait, you’ll see.” Dom sat back in her seat and smirked.

I watched them as Ben idly played with her fingers. Dom and Ben were precious together. They were the couple who was going to be together forever through thick and thin, because they just fit together that well. They were overly affectionate sometimes, but it was just their way of showing how much they loved each other.

Vincent and I weren’t like that. We were both tentative people who shied away from the conventions of love and any PDA. Vincent and I led separate lives and usually only hung out when Dom and Ben dragged us along. It wasn’t that we didn’t want to hang out, we just didn’t have the time or the incentive. Sometimes I wondered why I was with Vincent. We had very little in common (he didn’t even like to read) and didn’t really understand each other (he still had trouble understanding my flying phobia).

Okay, shut-up McCartney. Now is not the time to be retrospective.

You’re with Vincent, because you like him. End of discussion.

“We’re almost here,” I chimed as we went through the wrought iron gates.

“Thank Godric!” Dominique sighed. She hated waiting on anything.

“The ride isn’t even that long,” Ben began before being cut off by his girlfriend.

“Benjamin Thomas Flint, if you don’t quit belittling my problems I can and will cause you bodily harm.”

They bickered back and forth as we got out of the carriage.

“Thanks for letting me ride with you guys.” Abbott smiled and then hurried up the great stone steps into the castle.

“You’re welcome,” I called after her as I turned to Dom. “Come on, Weasley! Some of us like to watch the Sorting!”

“Do you always have to yell?” She drawled, half-heartedly putting her hands over her ears.

I just laughed and tugged her up the huge stone steps. Benjamin and Vincent followed behind us. We entered the Great Hall and I beamed up at the floating candles. No matter what I loved Hogwarts, horrible Wi-Fi and all.

I turned to Vincent. “I’ll see you after the Sorting.” We kissed lightly on the lips.

“Of course.” He smiled down at me.

“Catch you on the flip-side motherfucker,” Dom said giggling after she and Ben kissed.

“Toodaloo motherfucker.” Ben laughed and kissed her forehead again before going with Vincent to the Slytherin table.

Dom and I took our new seats where the Seventh Years sit.

Seating arrangements in the Great Hall were by grade. The Seventh Years sat in the middle of the table, the Sixth and Fifth Years are on either sides. The Fifth Years are on the side closer to the Staff Table. The Fourth Years sat beside the Sixth Years and then the Second Years. The Third Years sit by the Fifth Years and then the First Years closest to the Staff Table.

Some people broke the seating arrangements, like Lily Potter and her friends, but we didn’t mind, because LP was basically the adopted seventh year mascot. And sometimes Dom and I sat at the Slytherin Table.

“Oh Godric, I’ve missed you!” Someone fell across my lap. All I could see was a flurry of dark hair as the person flopped across my legs.

I then spotted prominent eyebrows and knew who it was.

“Darcy!” I hugged her tightly. “Where have you been?”

“My Father demanded we take an impromptu family vacation.” Darcy Finnigan sighed tragically as she sat back up. “I don’t even want to talk about it. We went camping in the forests of Ireland for two weeks.” She waved her hands theatrically. “I almost killed Nick,” she said in reference to her younger brother.

“Aw, I’m sorry, I almost killed my sister as well.” I nodded in understanding.

“What did the infamous Lennon do this time?” Darcy asked playfully as people filed in and sat around us.

“What did she not do?” I laughed.

“Luck!” A boisterous voice called my attention.

I looked in front of me as Fred Weasley plopped himself into the seat.

“I missed you, sweet cheeks!” He grinned wildly at me. “You know, the cousins played some pick-up Quidditch games over the summer and it just wasn’t the same without you down there throwing up the Quaffle.”

He was referencing my position as manager of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

It was an esteemed position, rest assured.

The other managers were Gryffin Masterson, Roxanne Weasley, Gallagher Peakes, and Albus Potter.

We were the dream team.

And don’t forget it.

“Oh I know dearest, how was the Quidditch camp you all went to? You looked like you were having fun in those pictures and Portraits.” I giggled.

“You have no idea,” Fred said seriously. “The Firewhisky flowed freely, the girls’ morals were lower, and anything illegal here was made legal there.” He smirked.

“Oh, wow. Fred, that sounded like poetry!” Troy Clearwater clapped a hand on Fred’s shoulder as he sat down on Fred’s right side in front of Darcy. He looked a bit ruffled with his black hair beginning to wave and curl at the tips while his dark brown eyes flitted around the group.

“Are you talking about the Quidditch camp in Amsterdam?” James Potter sat down to Fred’s left.

“What else could he possibly be talking about?” Dominique sighed loudly. “Just the same story, we’ve all heard a million times.”

“Because it’s a good story,” Fred growled. I looked around to see our group had expanded. On Troy’s other side sat Chance Longbottom and Luke Harrington. On James’s other side was Gryffin Masterson, Andrew Wood, Ky Shacklebolt, and JT Desai. Beyond them were the sixth years.

“Merlin, scoot over!” Zära Winthrop shoved a fifth year boy down the bench so she could sit by Darcy.

“Well good evening to you too, sunshine.” Troy gave her a grin, showing his perfect pearly white teeth.

“Clearwater, always a pleasure to see you at my table.” The venom that leaked into her tone was reserved only for Troy. He and Zära disliked each other, but not because of some never resolved childhood trauma or anything just because they were two people who were very good at arguing and very happy to do it. In my opinion, they were too much alike to ever get on well.

“Hey, I was telling a story—” Fred protested.

“Welcome, students.” Headmistress Susan Bones’ voice echoed across the Great Hall.

“Well, damn,” Fred grumbled.

We looked up at the Staff Table to see it had been expanded and more seats added. There were the people Dom had been harping on about.

“The Sorting Ceremony will now commence,” Headmistress Bones said, we all turned our heads and watched as Professor Neville Longbottom (Chance and Abbott’s dad) led the tiny, terrified first years in between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables.

“Were we that small?” Dominique whispered in my ear.

“I don’t think so…” I whispered back.

Dominique leaned back and nodded.

Professor Longbottom unrolled a scroll with the names of the first years and began the Sorting with, “Aaron, Michael.”

A tall, broad-shouldered kid with wavy blonde hair went up to the Sorting Hat. He sat down on the stool confidently. He was still tan from the summer and he focused his brown eyes on the wall behind us.


Michael grinned broadly and the Ravenclaws stood up cheering loudly. Michael went and sat down at the table after a brunette girl and a sandy haired boy ran up and hugged him. Oh, so Michael must be the brother of Mason Aaron, who is the Keeper for Ravenclaw.

“Abercrombie, Evan.”

A short, thin boy with large ears sat down on the stool timidly. He placed the Hat on his head and after a short pause the Hat proclaimed, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Evan grinned broadly while our table went wild. Dom and I clapped politely while James and Fred screamed loudly and cat-called like the morons they were.

It was a House-pride thing to see who could make the most noise at all times.

It was also annoying.

So was the Sorting Ceremony. I always have this mental block where I love the Sorting Ceremony up until I actually have to sit through it. I forget that we don’t get to eat until after it and we can’t talk during it. It wouldn’t be that bad except it takes forever, and I mean nobody really cares unless they’ve got a sibling in the Sorting. I’ve had to sit through six of them and they’re all exactly the same just with different names.

Except for my fourth year when the last of the Wotter clan was Sorted. Lucy Weasley was the last official Wotter and when she was Sorted into Gryffindor everyone went nuts, and James and Fred ran up and down the Gryffindor table with huge banners that read: THE WOTTER CLAN IS ALL GRYFFINDORS (EXCEPT MOLLY). That was in reference to Molly Weasley being a Ravenclaw and resident thorn in her cousins’ sides.

“Baddock, Anthony,” Professor Longbottom said.

Oh, we’re already in B’s! Well, damn.

“SLYTHERIN!” The dark-skinned boy walked towards the Slytherin table amid riotous clapping.

“Barbary, Sheila.”

The girl had curly, red hair and a dusting of freckles with wide blue eyes.


“Bole, Donovan.”

The boy was average sized, with a mop of dark hair and a large nose. He had pale, sallow skin and dark eyes.


Very fitting.

“Brand, Sullivan.”

Hey, I knew this one! Sully’s dad was the son of Igor Brand, an ex-Chaser on German National Team, and a descendant of Rudolf Brand, famous Quidditch player. The Brands were an old name in the Quidditch industry. Sully’s parents moved to Britain before he was born.

Sully walked confidently up to the Sorting Hat and brushed back his dark waves before putting the Hat on his head. Sully’s dark eyes looked out across the crowd.


Sully grinned, flashing white teeth, as he set the Hat back down and strode toward the Gryffindor table.

“Cauldwell, Jordan.”


“Corner, Holden.”

I watched as Matthew Corner’s younger brother walked cautiously up to the stool. Matt was in my year and the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain and one of their Chasers. The differences between the two brothers were obvious: Holden was fair-haired and blue eyed while Matt was brunette haired and dark eyed. But their faces were the same in the shape.

The Hat was silent for a long time. I checked my phone for the time and saw that about four minutes had passed. Almost a hat-stall.


Holden looked shell-shocked as he took the Hat off his head and walked to the Gryffindor table. I looked across the Hall and saw Matt shake his head sadly, but clapped anyway.

Wow, that sucked for Holden.

I didn’t know firsthand about the whole not-getting-the-House-your-family-wanted-you-to-be-in debacle, but I remembered Dominique and Louis freaking out about the possibility of not getting in Gryffindor when we were younger.

“Creevey, Colin.”

A boy with mousy brown hair and bright eyes went timidly up to the Hat. He was so small and adorable, and I just wanted to cuddle him. Professor Dennis Creevey was his father and the Arithmancy professor.


Colin beamed from ear to ear and hurried to sit beside Sully. Professor Creevey clapped loudly along with the rest of Gryffindor House.

“Davies, Rufus.”

A tall boy with a mop of untidy brunette hair and impish brown eyes moved forward with an ADHD-style impulsiveness.

“GRYFFINDOR!” Troy clapped and yelled even more loudly than usual, because Rufus was his cousin.

“Davies, Rhys.”

Rhys and Rufus were identical twins, except I could see that Rhys had taken the time to comb his hair carefully so it laid flat across his forehead.

“RAVENCLAW!” Rhys’s eyes widened as he looked over at his brother in fear. Rufus merely stood up on the bench and clapped proudly as his brother went over to the Ravenclaw table. Aw, how precious.

“Derrick, Justin.”

A thick-set boy with blonde hair and bright green eyes strode confidently up to the Hat.


If he played Quidditch, he might be good next year.

Godric, I miss watching Quidditch.

I sat there and mused on about Quidditch while the Sorting carried on. It was boring anyway and I would much rather be eating or in my dorm room. I looked across the table and saw Fred and James having a thumb war. I watched them intently as James beat Fred. They went for a rematch and Fred beat James. It went back and forth for a while before they finally quit and turned back to the Sorting.

“Leach, Leanne.”

The girl had black hair that was cropped even with her chin and was of Asian descent.


She looked relieved as she went over the Hufflepuff table.

“Longbottom, Frank.”

Professor Longbottom’s youngest son walked timidly forward.

The Hat had barely touched his head before it yelled out, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table exploded in applause as Frank went and took his seat at the end of the table.

“Peakes, Ariana.”

The girl was pretty with wavy brunette hair and large hazel eyes. She looked a lot like her siblings, Genevieve and Gallagher.


Cue obnoxious cheering from Gryffindor.

“Pritchard, Logan.”

This girl was haughty looking with short blonde hair, prominent facial features, and dark eyes.



“Pucey, Marcus.”

The boy had tanned skin with dark hair and wide blue eyes.


Dang, the snakes are on it tonight.

I looked across the table and saw Fred was just as bored as I was. I pulled a piece of paper out of the pocket of my robes and a pencil out of my purse. I drew four lines: two vertical and two horizontal. I drew an X in the middle and passed it to Fred.

Fred looked at it and then grinned at me. He drew an O and we repeated this until I beat him.

We played I-don’t-know-how-many games of Tic-Tac-Toe before Headmistress Bones ended the Sorting Ceremony.

“Students, I will now present Mrs. Daphne Burke, Head of the Department of Magical Cooperation,” Headmistress Bones motioned to a short woman. Daphne Burke was a curvy woman with short, dark hair and light eyes. She looked briskly about the room with sharp eyes.

“Hello students! Over the span of several years in my department we’ve been debating about the different ways to promote the wonderful relations our school has been building with foreign schools.” Mrs. Burke smiled at us as she walked back and forth between the tables.

“I’m here to tell you that we think we’ve finally found a way to display how far our school has come. Hogwarts and one of its oldest friends, the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic have agreed to exchange students,” she said. “Next year, a few Hogwarts students will have the option of going to Beauxbatons, but this year, twelve students from Beauxbatons will be attending Hogwarts.” She turned slightly toward the antechamber off the Great Hall.

“We expect you all to be your wonderful welcoming and helpful selves to our exchange students. Now, please put your hands together for the students of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic!” She gestured toward the students who were climbing up onto the platform.

There was loud clapping and cheering from all of the tables.

“I told you it wasn’t the Triwizard Tournament!” I turned to Dominique and laughed. She huffed and glared at me.

“It was a good guess, admit it!” she protested.

“It was so not a good guess,” I argued.

Suddenly, Dominique wasn't looking at me, but at something behind me, her eyes wide.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Turn around,” she breathed, “And try not to look furious.”

I turned around slowly and saw the most monstrous sight I’d ever seen since I walked in on my parents going at it.

Lennon ‘the Antichrist’ Luck was standing on the platform. Determined to always be the center of attention, she stood right at the front of the group. She grinned out at the crowd as she waved with the rest of the Beauxbatons students.

“This is not happening,” I muttered. I clapped my hands to my ears and shook my head. “This is not happening.”

So I bet you thought that I dropped off the face of the earth...

Well I kind of did lol. I've been super busy with school and still am sadly! Also tennis season is starting so I can't promise that I'll on here and posting all the time because I probably won't, but I had this chapter all ready so I figured why not go ahead and post it!

It's not like I've got a midterm to study for or anything. ;-)

But the new episode of Vikings is about to come on so I need to finish this up! I hope whoever is still around and reading my story likes this!


U da real MVPs!


In order of appearance...

Abbott Longbottom is portrayed by Gabriella Wilde

Darcy Finnigan is portrayed by Emilia Clarke

Zära Winthrop is portrayed by Natalie Dormer

That's all for now! Thank you again for reading this!

The next chapter includes: an angry McCartney, Dom getting jealous because there's a new veela in town, and a riveting discussion of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. A vicious deal is struck between two newly allied parties.

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