chapter one ... BETTER (THAN EVER)

𓃠

FOR AS LONG as can be, Eve Peregrine has kept the fiercely moored notion she's got about herself close to her chest. The notion is as follows:

If you're better, it's your best.

So, alright, it's not profound. To be fair, Eve made it up when she was eleven... Plus, she never claimed to be Lewis Carroll level of introspectional-just inspirational. No rabbit holes here just unmixed genes wrecking havoc on their dollish descendant. It's very important Eve stick to her little motto, you see, ever since she was able to speak and came up with it herself. The consequence of which has her constantly teetering on her own moral scale between darling or dangerous...

Here's the origins of it: It's 1980, a baby witch is born in Cork, on the warmest August night imaginable. Right inside Peregrine House, where her parents-a runway wife and a con-artist charmer-have hunkered down for weeks as they hide from people after them. The baby is sleeping in the crook of her mum's arm-her mum is named Marcela-and with a long time staring at the baby's face, she's proclaimed to be called Caoimhe. It's Irish, like her father, but also, not really since he didn't technically grow up there, so it just is Irish and it happens to mean beautiful and precious. Precious and beautiful. Marcela happens to think her daughter is very much both. Isn't it what all mums think of their babies? Sure, but those who witness this birth (a loyal House Elf, the father, and the mother; a very biased audience if you ask anyone but nevertheless, if Marcela says so, then it is...) still know it's the truest thing about baby Caoimhe. Beautiful as she is precious.

But since the woman that gave Caoimhe her name abandons her only a few nights after, on top of knowing that same power she grew to loath will surely befall her own daughter, because it just will-change must be made. It doesn't matter a silver bracelet with three dragonfly-charms is the only thing Marcela left behind for her baby. Or that a lilac-furred Persian cat-with a collar naming him Betelgeuse-shows up at Peregrine House days after that, a note attached to him saying: "I've had him since I was eleven. Let Caoimhe have him longer..." Both of these things some sorry excuse of a goodbye and remembrance? No one really knew...

It didn't matter anyway; Saul Peregrine was abandoned himself as a child. To say the man doesn't take lightly to his own daughter having to endure the same thing he did is an understatement. Even when Saul sees the newspaper from their world and his former lovers' picture plastered right next to the words: DEATH EATER, it answers everything and nothing. Still, Saul gives his precious and beautiful daughter her mum's bracelet but it's one of the very last things he allows of Marcela Black to linger amongst them - their daughter will have nothing more from someone who didn't stay and from then on, she's simply Eve Peregrine.

If only ridding ghosts were that easy.

Because naturally, Eve grows.

She morphs from a vulnerable, little thing into a formidable, dancing little miss that abhorred trousers and only wore glittery skirts for months when she was seven. The thing is that as she grows, Eve looks more like her. Everyone's seen the portraits and all the news clippings. All who know Eve and her connection to Marcela (and there used to be only a select few) know she's got her mothers eyes, her mothers hair, her mothers laugh and while that's all grand she's also got her mothers curse-but Eve grows better. She spends every holiday without fail managing mischief with her cousins, all on the same socially shunned scale as her-more kin of that whole noble lot-and they grow together. They do so knowing very little of the past the adults that love them endured. Eve, like her cousins, got to be a child and believe life is rainbows.

Until it isn't...

Eve grows some more and it's undeniable. Life was rainbows. Now, it's gone cloudy. It's brutal. It's not fair. It's teenage witchhood at its most fucking bleak. But it could always be worse... She's just got to mind her words.

Well, she tells herself, You obviously didn't do that this time around...

It's why Eve is here now, at Hogwarts, at the end of summer holiday. Currently, she's sitting on a bench - staring down at her shiny black Repetto's as they click on the floor, waiting for the Headmaster to let her in his study and use the Sorting Hat. She isn't that nervous. Maybe a little. But not much. (Her cousins told her if she's a hat-stall, it'd be fine because she doesn't got the entire school looking at her...) Eve is feeling cool, only because she thinks she looks nice; she just thrifted this off-white baby doll dress in Soho. She likes the puffy sleeves. Her hair is down because she'll have the Sorting Hat on soon and there was no point in waisting the ribbon she'd use to adorn her plaits. She's got this...

Her dad however - he's pacing up and down the corridor, tapping his wand on his thigh. He's staring at the walls like they'll come to life and attack them. Eve knows he's not nervous. Saul Peregrine is just always on guard. Ya know, the conman life...

A few chitters grabs her attention.

"Hi, Beetz," Eve smiled at the Persian cat who jumped up to sit on the bench with her, meowing some more, "You're being so vocal, today, yes?" She scratched behind his ears, smiling bigger when she heard him purr. "You nervous for me at all? In your ever great gift of cat-tuition, what's my tie color looking like?" No response. Only purrs. "Right. Man of a few words. I respect it."

"You should've left him at home." Saul says.

Eve gives her dad a little glare, "Excuse you. We'll both be living here come September. I wanted him to get used to the sight. This is as much Beetz open house as it is mine..."

Her dad chortled. "Foolish me, sweets. Speaking of open house - how many of those things are here again?"

"How many-?"

"Places... I mean, the mascots. Homes."

"Houses? There's four."

"Right. Four Homes. Houses, I meant... Say, what were they all called again?" He asks, more to himself, clicking his fingers together as if it'll conjure the answer, "Brainy, brave, the snake-pit, and yellow? ... Jaime's in the yellow, ain't he?" He means to bring up her cousin as a comfort and to distract from the fact that he has very little grasp of wizard schooling.

"Well yes but also-"

"But Jaime is in team yellow, right?"

"He's in Hufflepuff House, dad."

"HuffyPuffy. I knew that." Saul says, shrugging. "I know the others, too, but-" He takes another look around the castle. "I don't wanna spoil any orientation they've got in store for you or anything... I'll let Albus give you the run down."

"You think they'll give me a welcome cake?"

Eve loves cake. She knows blah blah blah, sugar is bad for you, rots your teeth, destroys your health, corrupts your kids and makes them worship heavy metal... But witches last a little longer - let them eat cake.

Saul shrugs, "Seems barbaric if they don't..."

"Hm. We'll see," Eve agrees, then looks around, too, down the corridor, "But, um, dad - are you gonna sit down next to me or pace around some more? Are you nervous? You're acting nervous..."

"I am not nervous. I'm staying cool."

"You're totally not, Peregrine - you're on watch-mode."

"You know what, princess? It's always good to be," Saul says all-knowingly, "This school looks ancient. Plus, the things I've heard about this place over the last three years - there obviously isn't a school board around here. So I think I'm good standing guard."

Eve looks around. "It is a bit gloomy. But I kinda like it, though... all the white in Beauxbatons blinded me. Not just the paint amirite -" She giggles at her own joke but sobers up to hate on her old school some more, "It was actually a minimalist dream."

"In other words, your nightmare." He says, and that makes Eve smiles because, her dad knows her so well. "Whatever the case - I don't want this place too gloom and doom. I don't want a lick of trouble going on around you. Especially now, princess, since all that stuff your mother was into festered about this place..."

Eve snorts. "You sound like uncle Oberon."

"Now, that's a pacing prodigy if I've ever known one."

"Was uncle even coming or -?"

"Not likely," The look on Saul's face told her everything and nothing at the same time. There was a little tiff going on between her dad and her uncle. Eve and her cousins were banished from hearing it no thanks to the Muffliato charm Saul placed. All Eve knew was that her uncle Oberon didn't think Eve coming to Hogwarts was the best thing; not because he didn't want it, but because, according to Saul, Oberon does not trust Dumbledore lately. Whatever that means. "He is completely committed to remaining bullheaded on this whole thing. He's just overthinking this. I've heard all I need to hear and more - this is the safest place for you, sweets."

"It's the only place for me." Eve says.

"Eve -"

"I know no one else would take me in."

Saul looked angered, but not at her. This Saul Peregrine rage was reserved for when it's about her, or the circumstances including her mostly. The worst thing about the incident that led to her expulsion from Beauxbatons wasn't even the fact that her identity as Marcela Black's daughter is out there - it was how her dad took it all. Eve had never seen her father so ashamed of himself. Like her royal fuck-up was his fault. Nor had Eve ever seen her father so scared for her before. Saul Peregrine usually instilled fear in others. He stays cool and keeps to his own business. He never hesitates. He would be a man of zero weaknesses if not for the girl who shared his dimpled smile.

But Eve managed to do the impossible last term... she made her father unsure. She made him scared - Eve couldn't even look at him the whole way home from France.

She was too worried at what else she'd see.

"Eve, honey," Saul kneels down in front of her, to hold her face. "You did the right thing, back in France. I told you this when it happened and I'm telling it to you, again, right now. I don't care what anyone says about it. You helped someone, the only way you could ... you've always minded your words," Her dad pats her knee as he stood back up, "Until something else called for you to not - you're not bad for using what you've got for someone else."

Eve smiles a little. "Tell that to the Daily Prophet."

Saul scoffs, balling his fists. Most likely revisiting the memory of when her uncles first sent the paper to them, "Daily Prophet... The Daily Bullshit, is more like it. 'Scuse my French, princess-" Delighted, her nose scrunched. "-What the hell do those pompous posh pricks and their newspapers know about my little girl, huh? I'll use every damn issue in England as toilet paper-"

"How eco-friendly of you, sir." says Eve.

"I'll have to talk to the Headmaster about that."

Eve blinks. "About the ecosystem?"

"What?" Saul frowns. "No. About how I don't want a single issue of that paper on the premises. Can I even ask that? Dammit, Oberon... he could ask that. He's got the pureblood name and all." He trails off. "Nothing works better around here than showing off about that, right?"

"Daddy, you're pureblood."

Saul frowns again. "Oh. Am I? Right... I am. I'll ask."

"Don't bother," Eve assures him, "It's just noise. I gotta put my chin up to that... I'm sure it's gonna sound nice in comparison to what the other kids will say about me here." She holds Beetz tighter to her. "I'll just hope they see, eventually, that I'm actually not a super-scary Death Eater's daughter - because I am the last part. But not super scary." Eve smiles a little. "Well, I can be if they don't serve something blueberry flavored for breakfast here."

Her dad says, "Ask your principal about that."

"Doesn't scream priority but-"

Saul taps her nose. "School safety should be a priority, princess. These poor folks haven't seen you in your not-a-morning-person glory. How you going to be without those fancy French morning smoothies you got spoiled on?"

Eve pouts, "Oh, I'd hex someone for those smoothies..."

"That's what should scare people."

"Funny man."

They're interrupted by the large doors where the Headmasters office is opening. It's all very magical and neat. From the doors, steps appear and out comes an elder woman walking down the spiral steps that surround a gargoyle. She wore a nice, emerald witch hat and dark robes that show her matching gown - both of which make Eve feel very underdressed for and also, a little envious because Eve so loves an occasion where she can dress up and feel so much like a Muggle's picture of a witch. Eve quickly makes a guess that the woman is just another one of the staff here - seeing as she just appeared out of the headmasters study. She is kindly looking enough, her aged face smiling at both Eve and her father; and Beetz who rushes over to greet the woman with a round of excited chitters.

The witch looks down and smiles warmly at Eve's cat. "Lovely fellow, aren't you?" The woman tells Beetz. She looks back up to Saul and Eve, saying to them, "Hello. Professor Minerva McGonagall, I'm the head of house for Gryffindor and Deputy Headmistress. You two would be Mr and Miss Peregrine, no-?" They nod at her, smiling. The woman, McGonagall, stares at Eve suddenly, for what seems like a long while. It makes her dad behind her tense up a bit. "Oh, Godric... forgive me-it's just, well - my girl, you look very much like someone I once knew..."

Eve only smiles, "I have one of those faces."

The professor doesn't seem too convinced but she doesn't dwell on it too much, "Yes, well, Headmaster Dumbledore would see you, now. Right back up this way. I'll walk you in..."

"Oh, my dad-?" says Eve, looking behind them.

"Must wait here, I'm afraid."

Eve looks at him.

"I'll be fine, kid," Saul assures. He kisses the crown of her head and hugs her for good measure, "Good impressions, yeah? I'll be out here when you're done and we'll head to your cousins place for celebration - Dain's words, of course. I think they're placing bets on what home you'll be."

"House and of course they did-but Beetz-?"

"The furball stays, too. He's having fun, I think he saw a rat just a second ago..."

Eve looks at her cat who is rushing around the corridor.

Saul gives her a thumbs up.

"I'll keep your father company," The Professor-called McGonagall-assures her, leading her towards the staircase again, "I think if we leave him there he'll pace a crack into the floors before you get back, don't you agree?" She smiles conspiratorial at Eve who gives her a little grin back.

"He's nervous for me."

"Did he attend Hogwarts, as well? I don't recognize-"

"He grew up in America."

"Ah. That explains the accent..."

"Sounds funny, doesn't he?"

The professor just smiles some more, "I'll watch over him. He and I will share some biscuits while you have your Sorting well - sorted out, so to speak," McGonagall lets Eve walk up the steps before she calls out, "There's no swaying the Hat but I would so like to have another Gryffindor..." She winks at Eve and then goes back down.

Eve takes a big, deep breath.

You got this. She walks towards the large oak door that most likely leads into the headmasters study. If you get sorted as Gryffindor, you can make the crimson work, totally, Eve tells herself, and Ravenclaw? That's Cecilys' house but ew, doing riddles just to get to your bed seems exhausting. If it's Hufflepuff, you'll be with Jaime-Lorelei, too, but mostly, Jaime-but if it's Slytherin... if it's Slytherin - the universe really hates me because wow a CHARMSPEAKER in Slytherin House! With my half-brother who hates me! Such a GREAT omen! But, if the universe does hate me, along with Theo, that's not new, so, I can totally handle it. I just got to make it ... better?

Fuck it. It's fine.

Eve knocks on the door.

⭑

"Enter..." says a voice from the other side.

Obeying, Eve does as such.

The room is totally what she imagines an old guys lair to like but also, it's super interesting. Far from the minimalist nightmare Eve had to deal with in Beauxbatons; like the rest of what Eve had seen of Hogwarts, gone was the pearlescent walls and marble flooring of her French school and in was the same aesthetics of the ancient Scottish castle that houses a circular headmasters office with all kinds of magical tools making different noises. The walls were covered with giant portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses - a familiar sight caught her eye, making her groan. She'd seen it plently of times on a few holidays when visiting her family's ancestral home. Eve was facing the portrait of her total gobshite of an ancestor, Phineas Nigellus. He, unlike the rest of the portraits, was bright and alert sitting with his arms crossed on the large chair that his photo contained.

"Ah, girl! There are you are-" Phineas Nigellus shouted at the sight of her, making Eve wince at the volume. He was loud everywhere, "I thought I heard correct from that useless great-great-grandson of mine... Dumbledore! Here she is and not a second late, mind you. See? See? Of course, the girl knows better than to make us look-"

"Yes. I see the girl very well, Phineas," The headmaster appears, directing it to the portrait. Eves seen him plenty, she'd recognize him anywhere. It has to do with her little cousin-Tiberius'-chocolate frog addiction and the way Dumbledore's card always appeared in the box. "As always, I appreciate you for pointing out any painstakingly obvious occurrences for me, though."

Ignoring the sarcasm from the headmaster, Phineas looks at her again in approval, "You should be grateful for another descendant of mine attending this Merlin forsaken establishment, Dumbledore. Truly... Isn't that right, girl? Our family is generous in that regard. This one here is all House of Black. Pureblood as can be-"

"I hate the motto Toujours Pur." Eve declares.

Phineas Nigellus nearly chokes.

"It's stupid and when any of you geezers talk about it at home, I swear your head gets too tiny for your face." She added.

"Insolent-"

"Well now, I believe Miss Peregrine and I have much to discuss and sort out, Phineas, if you would please..." Dumbledore gestures for the sputtering portrait of Eve's ancestor to leave. Thankfully he does so, muttering under his breath about these new generations and their insolent, foul-mouthed ways and I'll talk to Oberon about this ... but it finally leaves them alone, his portrait empty. "I must say, I don't think I could have gotten him out quicker if not for that. Many thanks."

Eve smiles sheepishly, "Usually my words do that. Clear a room, I mean. Well-not purposely. I mind my words. He's just a little too much sometimes." She explains quickly. "I hear it all on holiday at that place..."

"Grimmauld Place yes?"

She stills. Not many people know about it.

"Phineas tells me many things - I assure you, Caoimhe, I can keep a secret," Dumbledore tells her.

"Oh, it's - I'm just called Eve."

"Ah. Understood. I, too, deal with many a name I rather not have anyone call me by," Dumbledore admits, clasping his hands together in front of him, "Though, admittedly, none of the names I've heard are nearly as nice sounding as Caoimhe... precious and beautiful, I believe it means, correct?"

"My mother picked it," Eve says, twisting the plentiful rings on her fingers as she does any time she's nervous or feels like she's said something wrong. "I figure she was loopy on the pain of birth and willed herself to think I was a little angel or something..." Her face scrunches up, "I've seen plenty of babies. My uncles have a lot of kids. I don't think babies look precious or beautiful when they're so new..."

"No?" Dumbledore smiles, interested by her rambles.

"They all look like frogs to me."

To her surprise, the headmaster laughs.

"Frogs, huh," Dumbledore sobers up, "Best believe the next time I see a newborn I'll certainly remember this conversation, Miss Peregrine." He smiles then, "But, I implore you to sink into mothers opinion. Perhaps... precious and beautiful she knew you'd become?" He suggests, no doubt being kind. "Not to dig too deep into this - but I wonder if it was an aspiration she had for you, for your character, rather than some off-handed compliment?"

But Eve didn't know about that much. She never dwelled on the stuff about her mum before all this mess about her expulsion and the Daily Prophet spilling about her lineage got out... To be fair, Eve doesn't know what a twenty-three year-old witch and mother of two must've been thinking when she gave birth to her final child whilst on the run from whatever mess she'd gotten herself into. It couldn't have been about how Marcela wished her daughters life would be rainbows or how precious/beautiful she'd be to others...

"If Marcela Black said so, then it is..."

"That's true... As it is for you, yes?"

Eve straightens. "I mind my words, sir."

"Your father explained such a phrase to me when he asked if you could attend here," Dumbledore says, going to take a seat behind his desk and gesturing her to take a seat on the ones in front of it. Eve does so, taking a shaky breath. "He also told me - your expulsion from Beauxbatons was no folly. That you used your ability for the sole purpose of defending a fellow classmate?"

It had only been months since the ordeal.

Eve feels like it's yesterday when she saw a girl in her year, the quiet half-werewolf witch who never bothered anyone, mercilessly bullied by a gaggle of ten ruthless girls. Day after day. Burn marks from hexes and aconite littered the girls arms. Filled her belongings with silver dust. Made her food into maggots, conjured rain clouds to follow her in the halls, and even threw Nogtail blood at her once - if she ever went Carrie, Eve wouldn't have blamed her, but the poor girl never retaliated or showed any fight in her. The worst thing was that the teachers knew it. No one cared. The ten girls were from respected families... Eve tried to report it but the teachers complained it was because her French was bad and they couldn't understand who were the bullies... Eve knew that was bullshit. Her French was immaculate. Hello, her mothers family was French once, she thinks? Eve lived in France since she was eleven and it was the second language (besides German) that her cousins and she all speak when they want to be extra private in their conversations. The point is - no one was going to help Mathilde Lark.

Until Eve did ... but then she went too far. (She doesn't like to remember that part of it all.)

"I did," Eve says, looking right at the headmaster of her new school. "Only because I knew I could help her with it... and if I did, that'd be the end of it." She looks down at her shoes again, ashamed, "But they weren't sorry, I knew they weren't and if it wasn't one girl, they'd just find another person to hurt - and I took it too far."

"How so?"

Eve twists the rings on her fingers. "My dad didn't say?"

"Mr Peregrine did not divulge the details. He says the story was a little too dramatic by the time they reached his own ears... He only assured me it wouldn't happen again," Dumbledore says. "But, between you and I, should such a similar situation occur whilst you're here how would you go about-?"

"I wasn't brought up to turn the other way."

"Very noble a teaching..."

"I never controlled it. My Charmspeak. I just always mind my words but this time, I used it for the first time in ... maybe ever, purposely, and I felt it all. It spilled out of my words and I couldn't stop it," Eve explains because if anyone can maybe know what she says, it's Dumbledore. "It felt so rotten..."

"Power is only that, Eve. It is neither wicked or wonderful unless the person using it chooses to become either."

"Well. Mine is - rotten, that is."

"Which is why you feel yourself to be - rotten?" He asks, making her, after a few moments, nod her head, "You believe this to be the truth of it? Do you believe your father out there, who raised you all these years, would be content to know you view yourself as something wicked?" Dumbledore answered his own question by shaking his head. "He would not and I think you know it, as well. I have been amongst our kind perhaps too long ... I have known of you since whispers of your origins arose, Eve. But now, we sit before each other for the first time and you must forgive me for the time it's taken to get us here today ... but understand me when I tell you, I see nothing wrong or rotten in you."

Eve, all of a sudden, began to understand what Dumbledore was trying to get out of this conversation. He doesn't think I'm rotten. But he wants proof of it. He wants to know what she's capable of doing. "She was a half-werewolf witch. The girl I defended. Ten other girls hated her for it because - they just did." Eve tells him. "So her bullies ... I told them if they were fascinated by werewolves so much - right before the next full moon, they should transform as well."

Dumbledore leaned forward. "And these classmates of yours... did they transform so to speak?"

"Yes."

Without a bite or the lineage for it, ten girls turned into werewolves for one night because Eve Peregrine simply told them they should. Because she Charmspoke them to do so. It took nearly the whole of the Magical Reversal Department to negate the powers of Eve's Charmspeak and ensure the girls wouldn't turn on another full moon...

Eve, with all her might tells him, "If I say so, then it is."

"I see."

Eve couldn't meet Dumbledore's eyes. "Now you know, too. So I understand... if because of my mum and her reputation, along with my own, too, I suppose- if I can't attend Hogwarts. I know you have a lot of other things to worry about on top of letting a problem into your school, sir." She was trying her hardest not to feel small or cry.

She heard his chair move against the floor.

Dumbledore had risen from his seat and gone over to the shelf behind him. He reached up and grabbed ahold of a shabby old wizards hat - oh. Eve caught on quickly. She straightened in her seat.

"Eve..." Dumbledore's voice is soft, "The very fact that you, at your ripe age, consider yourself a problem - is the very reason why, should you accept, Hogwarts will be your home until you finish your schooling." That made Eve light up. The old wizard went on, "You see, I did not simply take note of an expelled Charmspeaker for a wrong-doing, no matter how well-intended - I could clearly see the auspicious, young witch we were to acquire. I noted her top marks in Potions. Transfiguration. Her natural affinity for Charms," He says pointedly, "Along with a class we do not yet offer here, but from what I see you thrived in, I believe it was called Hearth? The home-making class that integrates Muggle innovations with magical elements... Truly ingenious. As are you."

At that moment, Eve felt so free she could fly.

"Now, I know you were robbed of the first year experience at our school but rest assured - everything will fall into place. Every experience will be anew." He tells her, walking over to set the Sorting Hat on her head. "But the first of many, young Eve, shall start today..."

The Sorting Hat speaks:

"A little early in the year isn't it? But this is a special occasion, that much I can read..." It's a small, grating voice that seems to fill the room as Eve closes her eyes and lets this freaky magical item determine her House. "... But oh, I've been on this head before haven't I? No? Could've sworn... I see it all in here, clear as day. Oh, well - my mistake! I know now. You're just another one from that noble lot. Hmmm... you've been hidden. Now you're here. I can see your power lying in wait as well. The power is not the one you fear, no - but the ambition waiting for you to grasp it. Your craving to be better will be sated here. It's all in your head. They will see this as an omen but only I know best. Let's not break tradition further... you'll be better than ever in SLYTHERIN."

Eve hands the Sorting Hat back to Dumbledore. He takes it with a murmur of thanks, setting it back on its shelf. It goes back to being inanimate. There's a look on the Headmaster's face as he turns back to Eve that makes her think something about the hats words were not as flippant as someone else might take them...

Well.

Before anything, a cheer rang out.

Phineas Nigellus was back. "AHA! FINALLY-!"

Eve scowls, "You are so-"

"GLORY! Finally, a Slytherin! It's been years! Glory is coming our way once more!"

"Merlin, you're a lot-" Eve stands up, ignoring the round of cheers that Phineas Nigellus ends up making. Dumbledore and she watch as her ancestor portrait jumps around all the other headmasters and headmistresses photos, bombarding their peaceful slumber with his boastful antics. "Sorry you'll be left dealing with - that. I've never seen him do this ... much."

"In my experience, there are much worse fates Miss Peregrine," Dumbledore sighs, folding his hands over himself as he shakes his head at another joyful whoop, "Rest assured though - I can now say I favor weathering Phineas' boasts far better than I can his rages. He has a tendency to wake the other portraits up."

"Of course he does," Eve glares at her ancestor before giving Dumbledore a sheepish look, "So, um, we're like all finished, right? Wow. Exciting. But, oh..." She looks around them, kind of disappointed, "I suppose there was no cake then?"

Dumbledore blinks. "Cake?"

"Not a better way to welcome a person if you ask me."

"Very true. Alas, I'm afraid I didn't bring out my apron today..."

Eve gets it. "That's cool." Figured I'd ask. She gives him a tiny wave in farewell then, which Dumbledore returns. She nods once more to herself. "Thank you bunches for accepting me, Professor. You won't regret it. And I won't mess up either, really. I'll mind my words - you won't even have to worry about me at all..." She grins in an identical way another student of his would nearly eighteen years ago. "Have a good rest of the holiday... See you in September!"

"I'll count the days, Miss Peregrine."

Once Eve was gone and out the door, Phineas Nigellus stopped his cheers to tell Dumbledore very seriously, "Oh, and it's actually Miss Caoimhe Black-"

"Oh, continue on with your celebrations, Phineas..."

⭑

SAUL WAS SAT ON the bench Eve previously occupied. Eve saw that he was cheerily drinking something whilst eating a biscuit, clearly McGonagall treated him well enough, as he waited for her. He stood up in anticipation when he gain sight of her again - stuffing the last bit of the biscuit inside his mouth and chewing furiously, tossing it down with what Eve knew to be coffee in the cup that was enchanted to vanish once empty. Saul gaped at his empty hand. He shook his head and looked back at her.

"So? Yellow or brave or-? It's the brave one, right?"

"Try again, Peregrine."

"Hoffapluff."

"Nope. Think - ancient venomous traditions."

Saul gets a look like it dawns on him. "Snakepit."

"Finally something I don't have in common with my mother and it's this-" Eve shrugs like there are worse things to endure because, well, there always are. "It's all green, green, green from here... Good thing it's my color." A meow sounds out at Eve's feet. Betelgeuse is walking through her open legs like his own little figure-eight course. She picks him and and the old cat is like jello in her arms; he was chasing a large rat this whole time. He'll be glad to be back at Grimmauld Place she thinks, he grew up there... the house elf gives Beetz warm milk all the time.

"Isn't that the same one your brother is in?"

"A year above me but yes..."

"How you, uh, feeling about that?"

"I'll freak about it later and try to steer clear of him when I come back, I guess," Eve hugs Beetz close to her as they walk down the corridor towards the exit of the castle. "I almost didn't believe it. Slytherin... I mean I get it. But I don't imagine the purist-youth-of-today will take too kindly to all The Cranberries I'll be playing in my dorm. Their heads will roll when they see how I've enchanted my quill to be like a sparkly glitter pen... Oh-don't even get me started on my Walkman, I'm not walking the halls without it. Ugh. Dad, they'll witch-trials me..."

"You'll be okay," Saul says, "You'll make 'em better."

Eve knows her dad believes that.

She wants to be realistic. They're talking about a House made by a man who hated tolerant views; she gets the reputation it's got. Nearly every bad seed grew there and flourished. But not all, like, her mum was Ravenclaw and her mass murdering uncle was Gryffindor... It's about the person, no? Everyone is pretty much like her, right? They got the power to do some bad but if they know not to then they (usually) don't.

Ah, to be wicked or wonderful? Eve knew she'd have to be the latter. No biggie. She's a charmer minus the speak but also, she didn't need the allure of it to be grand. "If not - I'll be their best."

Her dad kisses her head.

"There wasn't a cake." says Eve, forlorn.

"Not even a slice? What kind of school is this?"

Eve shrugs, "Just wasn't on the welcome agenda..."

"Bunch of barbarians, I tell you."

⭑

"MARCELA BLACK'S daughter? Really, Albus?"

McGonagall had returned from escorting the Peregrines off the school grounds. They were in Hogsmeade, where Minvera had watched first hand Saul spoil his daughter silly before they went off to the aforementioned celebration awaiting them with the rest of her family...

But a longer look at the girl and Minerva had known exactly who she was staring at - or rather, who she thought she had been staring at. It's what brought her back up to the Headmasters study, going on about her grievances in letting another witch attend Hogwarts especially having the same beguiling ways that no one, especially not the staff, have forgotten.

"You'd be delighted to know she is indeed a Charmspeaker, as well, Minerva," Dumbledore takes the memories of today in his head and shifts them out of his head to sink into the Pensieve. "To add to your grievances... I know very well who she is. And mother and daughter have never met - we know the true situation with Sirius but if you were to ask the girl, Marcela Black is a shadow on her shiny world. She's has immense guilt for her past... I've seen it." He hints at a bit of Legilimency, "It was a misunderstanding. I believe we have one similar ... a boy who oft gets into mishaps of his own?" He watches McGonagall huff a bit. Dumbledore continues with a fond smile of his own, "Besides, no other school on the continent would take in the girl - save Igor, who would no doubt take advantage of having someone like Eve Peregrine in his halls." Dumbledore shook his head. "No, no... she must be here."

"Must she?" McGonagall seemed unsure.

"They'd fear her anywhere else..."

"Oh, Albus. You remember her mother. The way she practically waltzed the halls, beguiling anyone she pleased because she could," She urged. "The students affected... there are still rumors. I'm not one to indulge them, but I saw it with my own eyes all those years ago. Remember the prophecies the Seer, Marcela's friend, wailed over-"

"Clea Chowdhury is a charlatan. I know Eve Peregrine well even after one meeting with her. She's just a girl. She will cause no harm to anyone here, I know it." Dumbledore said with uncharacteristic snap of finality.

McGonagall knew better. "You want her here."

The headmaster couldn't meet his deputy's eyes.

"You want her here for some reason or another. I know you. You're not as all mysterious as you'd believe yourself to be," She points a finger at him, "I hope you know what you're doing, Albus... for all our sakes."

"It'll be grand, Minerva - but do inform Filch to come this way. I need him to inform the House Elves that Slytherin House, especially the girls dormitory, be well stocked with the most delicious cakes for the school year..." Dumbledore only smiles at the blank look McGonagall gave him. "My sanity is very much intact, thank you."

Minerva only turned to leave his study.

Godric save them.

authors note: and we're back to hogwarts!!!! (no i did not save this off to wait until sept 1st.... or maybe i did) haha but yes welcome to NOBLE LOT - welcome EVE PEREGRINE!! i've still got the quidditch world cup (where the newest lot of the house of black will come out and i don't know if it was clear but eve and saul are not aware of the prisoner of azkaban shenanigans YET..... let that sink in.... but they will don't worry. they've just been holed up in peregrine house in cork this whole time since eve was expelled. give it maybe even next chapter lol )

ask me anything, give me your thoughts, i LOVE TO HEAR THEM!!!! thank you for all the support i've had on this silly little idea of mine.... also sorry if the idents are all wonky, i copy and paste it from word but of course it messes up, if anyone has an idea how to fix that i'd be most grateful but if it doesn't bother y'all - love you!!!