ii. the pictures on the walls... talk?

　SOMETHING ANDY WASN'T used to (besides the whole magic thing, which was still pretty crazy) was eating as much as she ate that night. When Professor Dumbledore had said «the feast begins» he had been so right, and Andy hadn't expected a real feast. There was so much food everywhere, mountains of it, and it just appeared out of nowhere.

　"How did they do that?" she asked, mouth watering at the sight, earning an amused look from the older boy that sat beside her.

　"The house elves that work in the kitchens enchant the food so it shows up on our plates, " he explained to her, and Andy felt her eyes widen.

　"Did you say elves? That's awesome, dude!"

　Bellamy, who was seated in front of her, was already stuffing her mouth full of what she had stated was her favourite kind of meat. Andy, on the other hand, didn't know where to even begin.

　She glanced around the hall, feeling someone staring at her, and her eyes were soon met with a heavy glare. Startled, she looked at the professor with long black hair and a pale face. Why was he looking at Andy like that? Had she killed the love of his life and she didn't remember? Or had she perhaps spit in his food without meaning to? Not that she usually did that.

　Weird.

　"Tonks," she addressed the sixth-year witch that had introduced herself to Andy a couple of minutes ago. "Who's the professor sitting beside McGonagall?"

　The pink-haired girl lifted her gaze from her food, looked at the Great Table, and huffed.

　"That's Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin. I hate him with a passion, and he hates me with a passion too, " she explained, boredom in her voice. "He teaches potions."

　Tonks stabbed her chicken with her fork, turning her head once again to the table and smiling at the demigod.

　"He also packs a mean hatred for anyone that isn't Slytherin, so be careful around him, " added André, the older boy sitting beside Andy.

　Right. She hadn't realized that magical schools also came with bad teachers that everyone hates, but now that she thought about it, it made sense: imagine an arsehole but add magical to it. Just a bigger arse.

　(Afterwards, you can imagine an asshole who is half-god. Oh, and if you want to, you could think about a half-god-and-magical asshole — which is Andy without the asshole part. And most of the Ares kids back at Camp, but don't let Cleo know that.)

　"My brother told me that Snape once put him in detention for saying the wrong answer, " Bellamy gossiped, leaning in.

　"Who's your brother?" asked Tonks, curiosity shining in her eyes.

　"Oliver Wood, he's a third-year in—"

　"Gryffindor," finished André. "Yeah, he tends to do that. He's a complete git."

　"Someone really hurt him at some point in his life and he did not go to therapy for it," quipped the now blue-haired sixth-year.

　Andy gaped at the girl, still amazed at her metamorphomagic abilities. She'd heard of kids from Cabin Ten who could change their eyes colours, but to know that some wizards could change their whole appearance on command... Freaking awesome.

　The feast was almost overwhelmingly good, and Andy was even getting the ropes of being surrounded by ghosts who flew into your food. Feeling a ghost going through you was still a little much for her, though.

　Once they were done with the welcoming feast, they were led out of the hall by two older students. The shorter of the two was a boy, blond and freckled, and by his side was a tall and dark-haired girl who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else.

　"I'm Michel," the boy said before gesturing to the girl, "and this is Teresa. We're the fifth-year prefects of our house, so if you have anything to ask or any trouble, you can come to us, or any of the older prefects."

　"Oi, don't come to me. I hate kids," Teresa said, sporting a big frown on her face.

　Andy blinked, getting big Mr D vibes from the older girl.

　"She's joking," Michel quickly said, Teresa shaking her head in disagreement beside him. "Let's go, we'll show you the way to our common room."

　"And pay attention, because if any of you little bastards get lost, I won't come back for you," Teresa added, turning her back towards them as she started walking.

　Bellamy grabbed both Cedric and her by their arms and proceeded to make them walk faster, trying to get them to be right behind their prefect. Andy could already bet that her new friend was a very impatient person.

　As they walked through the old castle, Andy couldn't help but admire everything about it. A picture of its architecture would be worth a couple of drachmas in the Athena cabin back in Long Island, of that she was sure. It was beautiful. She gawked at a giant painting, so vibrant with life, feeling Bellamy tugging her arm to keep her moving, but it was mesmerizing. It had a gorgeous red-haired woman in a long gown, and she... She was staring right back at Andy.

　"What are you looking at?" spat the beautiful lady, and Andy jumped back in surprise.

　"Dude, what the fuck! Did that painting just talk?"

　"Well of course it did, Andy," said Cedric, frowning at her with a tilted head, as if he truly didn't understand her concerns. "They all do, what else are they supposed to do all day? I suppose they could sleep, but might be a bit boring."

　"I could not stand such boredom in my day-to-day non-life," stated disapprovingly the rude lady in the painting, right before getting up from her chair and jumping into the neighbouring painting.

　"What in Tartarus..." she muttered, getting tugged along once again by her new blonde friend and staying at a safe distance from the walls.

　They walked past a large painting of a fruit bowl, and they stopped. Before them was a pile of large barrels stacked in a shadowy stone recess on the right-hand side of the corridor.

　"To enter," Michel started, approaching the barrels, "you have to tap into this barrel in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff'.  You'll have to remember which one because otherwise you will be prohibited from entering."

　Well, that was an original way to make an entrance into a secret place.

　A sloping, earthy passage inside the barrel travelled upwards a little way until a cosy, round room with low ceilings was revealed. It was decorated in the cheerful, bee-like colours of yellow and black, emphasised by the honey-coloured wood for the tables and the round doors on the opposite side of the entrance.

　A colourful variety of plants and flowers livened up the space, with various cacti on wooden circular shelves, curved to fit the walls. Andy's jaw hung open when she noticed many of them waving and dancing at passers-by. As they walked, tendrils of ferns and ivies brushed their hair, coming from copper-bottomed plant holders dangling amid the ceiling.

　A portrait over the wooden mantelpiece showed a woman, who Andy guessed was Hufflepuff's founder, toasting her students with a tiny, two-handled golden cup. There were small, round windows just level with what seemed to be the ground at the foot of the castle, which would be beautiful in daylight.

　"The girl's dormitories are to the right, the boys to the left. You'll find your names written on your doors," Teresa explained and started to walk towards the first door she mentioned. "And piss off to bed right now, don't even think about bothering me."

　"What a warm welcome," said Bellamy.

　"I'm feeling the love," agreed Cedric. "Well, goodnight then. See you at breakfast?"

　They nodded and watched as he went through the door on the left, and they headed towards their own. At the start of the corridor, their dorm door had a laminated golden metal that thankfully didn't put their full names, because that would have been dreadful. Andromeda Jackson, Vera Johnson & Bellamy Wood, Bellamy told her it said.

　Their school trunks were already inside their room, as well as their remaining dormmate. A dark-skinned girl with butterfly locs sat at her already claimed bed, seemingly waiting for their arrival. Andy could have sworn she had seen her heading towards another part of the castle, but decked in Gryffindor red.

　"Hi, I'm Vera!"

☄︎

　ANDY FURROWED HER brow, staring at the envelope in her hands. A gorgeous brown owl had delivered it to her just seconds ago, and she didn't know if it was the early hours or the piece of paper on itself that confused her.

　She was certain that her aunt Sally had said that she'd wait a couple of days to talk to her, so who could it be from?

　"It won't bite, you know, " quipped Bellamy, who was eyeing the envelope with poorly hidden interest, "I think our letters are pretty similar to muggle ones. Well, unless it's a howler, then it won't bite, but you'd be, hm, shitting yourself."

　"A howler?" Andy asked with caution, suddenly realizing that was she was holding could be something dangerous.

　"A howler is a letter that screams when you open it, " Vera explained from in front of Andy, "If you open it, that's it. But I think that's the better option, right?"

　The girl looked over at Bellamy, waiting for the blonde to continue her train of thought.

　"Yeah, not opening a howler is much worse," said Bellamy, before stuffing her mouth full of bread, making her next words hard to understand, "But that's not one, though, it isn't red. "

　Still didn't explain the mystery around it, but Andy proceeded to try to read the words written on the brown paper. something along the lines of Anpromade Jaokscn, which she soon recognized as her name.

　"So if it isn't red then it isn't dangerous?"

　"That's not what I said," smiled the blonde girl and both Vera and Andy looked at her with narrowed eyes.

　She let out a sigh.

　"Can you read it for me?" she asked Bellamy, after opening the letter and seeing the handwriting. "I can't- I can't read cursive. I'm very dyslexic."

　Vera and Bellamy looked at her, clearly confused, and Andy guessed that having dyslexia wasn't a thing in the magical world. Or perhaps they were just uneducated.

　"That means I have some trouble piecing letters together. I'm serious, girls, " she insisted, extending the letter towards Bellamy, who took it hesitantly.

　"Are you sure, Andy? This seems awfully private, " Bellamy said, eyeing the letter warily.

　Andy waved her hand dismissively. The worst that could happen was that it was from a friend from camp, and she could tell her new friend that whatever godly talk was written, was an inside joke.

　"Hm-hm, go ahead. I'd probably tell you either way, " she said, and it was partially true. If it was a demigod thing, then she wouldn't. But it wasn't. Probably.

　The blonde girl looked at her once again, raising her eyebrows as she held the paper up between her hands.

　"Here we go, then. Ooh, that's gorgeous handwriting, " she awed, and Vera hit her arm, telling her to keep going. "Sorry, I'll start. It says: My Darling Andromeda, it is with great pride that I write you this letter, as you have finally started your education at Hogwarts, the day all of us were waiting for, ever since you were born. "

　Andy stared at the back of the letter, stained with bled-through ink. What in Tartarus could that mean? The only ones that knew she was going to Hogwarts were her aunt, little Percy and Chiron. Also, «my darling Andromeda»?

　"All of us?" she repeated, and Bellamy nodded.

　"You have no clue who it could be? It looks like they've known you since you were little, " added Vera, who was reading the letter over the blonde's shoulder.

　Andy shook her head.

　"I'm practically an orphan, only my aunt knew me then and she wouldn't write to me like that."

　"It feels like it was yesterday when your mother gave birth to you, and she let me hold you in my arms within mere minutes of being alive. Oh, so they do know you. You sure this isn't your father, mate?"

　"It isn't, trust me, " Andy assured. "My dad wouldn't write me letters."

　"Your aunt probably hasn't told you, primarily because I asked, but I'll let you know now. Andy, I'm your godfather, and I'm deeply sorry I haven't reached out to you before. I had figured, that upon your legacy you didn't need any more troubling presences in your early life, as I would have been."

　"What does he mean with legacy?" Vera's confused voice filled her ears. "Your magic?"

　"Yeah... He must mean that." Andy thought back to the words and figured he must mean her being a demigod.

　"Now that you have started Hogwarts, I believe that my existence wouldn't be as unwelcomed as it could be prior to this moment, so you will be hearing regularly from me. I was a friend of your mother's before she passed away, and I kept in contact with Sally. If for any reason you wish to stop hearing from me, you can let your aunt know, and I'll never bother you again, my child.

　» I'm very proud of you for ending up in Hufflepuff, as would be your mother, even if she was a Gryffindor. I'm looking forward to hearing about everything you accomplish this year, Andy. Happy late twelfth birthday, enjoy your day, sweetheart.

　»With love, R.

　Bellamy handed her the parchment back, and Andy rubbed her thumb at the initial signed at the end of the letter.

　She was, to say the least, confused.

　Why would her godfather believe himself to be «a troubling presence»? No amount of trouble was too much for Andy if it meant having a family member around, and the man that had written her the letter seemed to have been considered family. Otherwise, why would he have been appointed her godfather?

　It didn't even say how she was supposed to write back, and she wanted to. She looked at her friends who quickly averted their gaze from Andy's face.

　"Well, that was something, " Andy let out.

　"He didn't even say his name!" let out Vera, disgruntled.

　"Wait, hold on one second. When was your birthday?"

　"Huh, yesterday."

　"You should have told us! We could have, I don't know, stayed partying it up all night!"

　Vera's reaction to the statement gave Andy a clue that it wasn't exactly true from her side, and she couldn't help but chuckle. It had taken them a lot to wake her up after sleeping eight full hours, she didn't want to imagine how long it took after an all-nighter.

　Throughout the rest of the day, Andy tried to string together the words she wanted to say to her so-called godfather. Immediately after they'd finished reading the letter, Professor Sprout had started giving out their timetables, which had caused the three of them to groan out loud.

　Their first class ever would be Potions, with the professor that gave Andy the heebie-jeebies, and it was a double one. So that meant two hours straight with a professor that already hated her guts for whatever reason, but at least they were supposed to share it with Ravenclaw.

　She glanced towards the raven's table and managed to catch Roger's eyes. With a grin on her lips, Andy held her timetable in the air, watching as he did the same.

　"We have a class with Roger," she reminded Bellamy, who smiled then.

　"A reunion! That is lovely. Is Cedric around or is that tosser still sleeping?" Bellamy craned her neck to look around for the golden-haired boy.

　Andy found Cedric to be sitting alongside another boy, who she remembered from their Sorting Ceremony the former night but didn't know his name.

　"He's over there."

　She pointed in his general direction, but it was useless, as Cedric had started heading their way.

　"Morning, ladies," he greeted when he arrived, an easy smile on his face. "Ready for two dreadful hours?"

☄︎

　"SO, MY BROTHER told me all about the professors," Bellamy told them as the five of them strolled down the corridors. "Snape's Head of Slytherin and he's a real git to every other house like Tonks and André told us. We'll see how much of that is true."

　"You have no idea how thankful I am for your brother's expertise," said Vera.

　The previous night they had found out a lot about her, including that the only sibling she had was her twin sister, Angelina, who was sorted into Gryffindor. Therefore, Bellamy was the only one who could pry another current student for information, given that all of them thought their parents' knowledge was outdated, to say the least.

　"He's useful for once, I'll give him that."

　Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

　Snape started the class by taking the roll call, and he briefly paused at Andy's name but quickly got on with the rest of the list.

　When Professor Snape was done, he looked up at the class, and she noted how his eyes were black and lacked any kind of warmth. They were cold and empty, similar to something you would associate with a dark and hopeless pit of despair.

　"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began.

　He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. He had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort, which Andy would soon find out was the same for only one more teacher.

　Andy, for once, had done all of the reading, even going beyond and acquiring extra material. Since Professor McGonagall had performed a spell in her books that made it easier to read (she needed to master that enchantment), she had enjoyed the activity, which was unusual, and dived deeper than the syllabus went into the subject.

　"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

　More silence followed his speech. Andy and Cedric exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Roger, on the other side of the room, was on the edge of his seat and looked desperate to start proving that he wasn't a dunderhead like the rest of them.

　"Jackson!" called Snape suddenly, scaring her out of her mind. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

　Images of dozens of plants ran through her mind as she frantically tried to remember where in Zeus' name she had read that term, pages merging together in the mess of her memory.

　"It's found in the stomach of a goat, Professor," she finally recalled, a triumphant smile on her lips.

　Snape's lips curled into a distasteful expression, clearly disappointed with her answer. Her grin vanished from her face immediately.

　"And what would the stone's purpose be?" he asked, possibly digging for a wrong answer.

　"I believe it can save you from most poisons, sir."

　"That would be... correct. One point to Hufflepuff," admitted Snape, albeit reluctantly judging by the deepened scowl adorning his features.

　Done with her, he swept around the class in his long black cloak, in search of another student to torment. Penny Hawford, from Ravenclaw, turned into his newest victim of interrogation, which she flunked. Andy grimaced as this caused Snape to rant about how they should have done the reading for the class — which she did.

　Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mix up a simple potion to cure boils. He walked around, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing everyone without discrimination.

　Every single time the professor walked near her, Andy held her breath. It was almost as if he especially despised her, and she couldn't understand why. He didn't seem youthful or old, a similar age as her mum if she were still alive, she imagined. That's when a lightbulb went off in her head — maybe they'd gone to Hogwarts together and loathed each other. This would somewhat explain his evident disdain for Andy, because she looked a lot similar to her mum, Adelaide Jackson.

　When the lesson came to an end, Andy felt like she could finally breathe. The subject was beautiful, but that man made it a nightmare to live through. They scurried away from the dungeons, wanting to be anywhere else but that wretched section of the castle.

　"Snape hates us, that much is clear," Cedric said as they strolled around the corridors, trying to find their next class. He turned to her. "But what did you ever do to him?"

　Andy shrugged.

　"I think he may have gone to school with my mum," she confessed her theory. "Maybe they didn't get along."

　"And the answer is terrifying an eleven-year-old. So mature." Bellamy rolled her eyes.

　"Hey, I was not terrified," debated Andy, a frown working its way onto her face.

　"You were shaking a little," quipped Vera.

　"These are lies, " she denied.

　Andy had, in fact, been shaking. A lot. Snape was scary.

　The Transfiguration class they had later in the morning had been so much better, and actually enjoyable. They'd been momentarily put off by the cat sitting on the Professor's desk, and Andy's eyes had almost fallen out with how shocked she was when the cat turned into Professor McGonagall.

　Apparently, that was a thing wizarding people could do — so why wasn't everyone an Animagus? The results would be entirely worth it, no matter the work you had to do. Now this was a thing Andy would be researching in the future.

　Along with learning about animagi, her first weeks at Hogwarts taught her that magic is not just waving a wand around and saying some latin words with your fingers crossed in hopes that it would work.

　She'd tried that, not good results.

　They had to study the technique of how to make something levitate, the way they move the wand, the pronunciation, intonation. Too much work, if she had to be honest, but gods were the results incredible — she made objects fly in Charms!

　Andy herself had been the one to fly when Madam Hooch gave them their Flying lessons on how to ride a broom succesfully.

　When the three week mark hit, she wrote her Aunt Sally a letter, just like she promised she would do. Told her all about her new friends, her professors (including the bitchy ones), her subjects and even the ghosts. Sadly, Fat Friar continued to make her jump in her seat when he pops his head into her lunch.

　Yeah, she's not getting used to that anytime soon.

3972 words
what a suck ass ending. but it's here which is the important part. i guess. happy 2023. looks like this fic is one update per year LMAO
- love u, ren <3