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The Last Knight of Autumn [Harry Potter/Dresden Files]

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[x] Socked him in the mouth. He was espousing the ideology that took her parents from her, and was about a sentence away from being a Wizard Nazi.

Also, UberJJk, the author may not be using Notice-Me-Not Charms in this story. I'm pretty sure they're fanon.
 
[x] Ignore him. She was nearly done, and it wasn't worth the trouble.
 
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1.4
  • Threadmarks
    • The Last Knight of Autumn - 1.4

    Euphemia struggled to reign in her emotions as the blonde-haired brat went on and on. She told herself that he wasn't worth it, that getting into trouble like this without even having stepped foot into Hogwarts would go badly for her. But she wanted to sock Draco Malfoy is his dumb mouth so bad.

    "Well? Do you agree or not?" He asked, and Euphemia turned away and kept her fists by her side. He is not worth it. She relaxed, and felt the hairpin in her pocket. It's warmth comforted her, and as Draco fell silent she waited for her robes to be done. He seemed stunned that someone would simply ignore him, and Euphemia swore that Madam Malkin gave her a sly smile as finished her robes up.

    With her robes magically animated into her trunk by the Professor, Euphemia almost skipped along Diagon Alley towards the Owl Emporium, which she understood had expanded since it's founding to sell far more than just Owls, as shops are wont to do.

    Every manner of beast in every kind of storybook seemed to inhabit the shop, cawing and growling and roaring. What looked to be a miniature dragon coiled around a stone pillar, puffs of flame lazily making their way from the creature's mouth. Euphemia's eyes went wild at the sight of it, only to have the Professor shake her head.

    "I'm afraid that only Owls, Rats and Toads are acceptable for Hogwarts students, Miss Potter. No matter how fetching you may find a Dragonnel, or that Rainbow-Crow over in the corner." She said, causing Euphemia's face to fall.

    "Why, Professor?" She asked, her voice sad as she tore herself away from the almost hypnotic wings of the Rainbow-Crow.

    "If it were up to me, or the Headmaster for that matter, then it would not be the case. But ever since the Ministry passed the Cultural Preservation Act, alternative means of practicing magic have been banned from schools without a cultural exemption form, like the one you have for your wand."

    "Oh. That seems vaguely..."

    "Prejudiced? Bigoted? I agree entirely Miss Potter. Still, you must choose."

    [x] Owl
    [x] Name

    [x] Rat
    [x] Name

    [x] Toad
    [x] Name

    After Euphemia had purchased her familiar, she and the Professor sat down to have lunch in the Leaky Cauldron. The food was hearty, stout and English to it's core. They talked about Euphemia mostly, and she enjoyed the rare chance to feel good about herself. All too soon, however, it was time for her to go home.

    Wearily, Euphemia walked into Privet Drive beside the Professor, whose face had hardened into a steel mask. No one answered the door, nor even acknowledged her existence beyond a grunt or two, and a terse noise from Petunia at the sight of her familiar.

    "With me, Miss Potter." The Professor said, leading Euphemia up the staircase and into Dudley's second bedroom. It had been stripped clean of broken old toys, and dusty books were piled in the corners. "You are to sleep in here from now on, dear. Take this, and break it should you ever be in need of help here." She continued, handing Euphemia a small piece of red glass with a number stencilled in white paint on the side.

    "Okay, Professor. Thank you for taking me to get my school supplies and helping with the Dursleys and telling me about my parents." Euphemia said, and the Professor smiled sadly once more.

    "It is the least I could do, Miss Potter. Now, I shall bid you farewell and look forward to meeting you in my class." She said, and walked down the stairs. Euphemia really looked at her room - her room - for the first time. She stood in awe. Her bed alone was larger than cupboard under the stairs, and there were so many books simply sitting unread.

    Granted, many of them were rather childish, but then again they had been given as gifts to Dudley, of all people. She spied a large, paperback tome in one of the piles and went to have a look. She blew the dust off the spine, and carefully removed it from the stack. On the front of the book, it said 'The Lord of the Rings, by JRR Tolkien'. She opened the book and began to read, revelling in simply being able to read for the joy of it. Soon enough she placed the book down, using an old receipt for a bookmark, and cracked open 'The Standard Book of Spells'.

    She read late into the night, switching from book to book whenever it took her fancy. She practiced wand movements, stared at garish illustrations of dark creatures, and solemnly studied the safety sections of her potions book.

    The next morning, she made breakfast and did her usual chores, only for Vernon to stop her when she went to go work on the garden.

    "No girl, you've done enough chores today. That woman was very clear about that. Go and do whatever it is little freaks do with their spare time." He said, finishing with a grunt. Startled, Euphemia went back up into her room, picked up her wand and bag, and went outside into the street.

    She would read late into the night again, but for now; in the daylight? There was exploring to be done, now that she knew magic was real. Surely, even in a place like Privet Drive, there was at least something or someone magical beside her and Septima?

    It was near noon, and Euphemia sat on a park bench some distance from her home. The small park was secluded from the road by thickets of trees, and it was utterly deserted. That was, until Septima emerged from the hairpin a girl of about Euphemia's height.

    "Right then! It's time you began your training, Ser Knight." She said, offering her hand to Euphemia.

    "Are you going to teach me magic!?" She asked, excitedly.

    "In time, dear child, in time. A more primal and raw form of magic to be sure, but magic all the same. However, our lessons today and for the foreseeable future shall cover a different topic." Septima said, her aristocratic voice soft and warm.

    "Come on, don't tease me like this!' Euphemia whined, in good humour.

    "Swordplay, and the other arts of hand to hand combat." Septima said, placing her hand over a tree. Two wooden swords emerged from it, sized for Euphemia's height. The fae tossed one towards Euphemia, who easily caught it. "Now, I shall teach you an art few mortals have ever learnt - and fewer still lived to use it!" Septima shouted, and then they began.

    The days passed in that fashion, with Septima teaching Euphemia the art of the sword as it was understood by the Autumn Court of Old in the mornings and afternoons, whilst Euphemia studied her books and practiced magic under her bedsheets. The Dursleys mostly left her alone, content not to anger the Professor and to simply pretend that Euphemia didn't exist, most of the time.

    Soon enough, it was time for her to head to London to catch the Hogwarts Express from Kings Cross Station. She, of course, had been informed of how to get onto the platform. When she told the Dursleys that she needed a lift to catch a train from Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Vernon merely smiled, laughed, and said that he would drop her off at King's Cross.

    It struck Euphemia that she had just played her Uncle like a fiddle.

    She arrived at the station with her trunk, familiar, and a certain hairpin tucked into her pocket. She spotted half a dozen wizarding families and ten times that number of muggleborns as she walked through the station, and soon enough she came to the stretch of wall behind which hid a train station for witches and wizards.

    Gathering her courage, she broke out into a run. Her eyes were wrenched shut as she collided with the barrier, only for her to go straight on through and into the other side. The platform was teeming with people, and half a dozen stranger beings acting as porters and cleaners.

    Grinning, she loaded her trunk onto the train and began to search for a mostly empty compartment. She found a...

    [x] Compartment inhabited only by a curly haired, bookish girl.

    [x] Compartment currently seating a red-headed boy, and a brown haired girl fussing over a toad.

    [x] Compartment inhabited by a familiar blonde-haired git. Euphemia was tempted to annoy him somehow.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Yay! It's back! Glad to see this isn't dead @Tekomandor

    Tekomandor said:
    He seemed stunned that someone would simply ignore him, and Euphemia swore that Madam Malkin gave her a sly smile as finished her robes up.
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    Well at least that didn't end as badly as I thought it would. I wonder what sort of butterfly effects we'll see from Malfoy getting an ego check this early on might cause.

    Tekomandor said:
    What looked to be a miniature dragon coiled around a stone pillar, puffs of flame lazily making their way from the creature's mouth.
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    ...pet dragon? We must have a pet dragon!

    Tekomandor said:
    But ever since the Ministry passed the Cultural Preservation Act, alternative means of practicing magic have been banned from schools without a cultural exemption form
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    ...Damn You!!!

    I'm betting the CPA was actually past to help suppress muggleborns. After all they come from a very different culture and are naturally going to try and pull the Wizarding World towards their culture. Especially given the numbers involved.

    Tekomandor said:
    Still, you must choose.
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    I say we go Owl. As far as I can tell it's the only one of the three choices that is actually useful and is pretty easy to take care of. Plus noble birds are so much cooler then dirty rats and slimy toads, especially for a little girl.

    Tekomandor said:
    Take this, and break it should you ever be in need of help here." She continued, handing Euphemia a small piece of red glass with a number stencilled in white paint on the side.
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    Hmm. I wonder if it's a portkey, activated upon breaking, or just a one use messenger. Hopefully we'll never need to find out.

    Tekomandor said:
    Euphemia really looked at her room - her room - for the first time. She stood in awe. Her bed alone was larger than cupboard under the stairs, and there were so many books simply sitting unread.
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    Okay this is just sad. We really need to make sure Euphy ends up with a happier life!

    Tekomandor said:
    She read late into the night, switching from book to book whenever it took her fancy. She practiced wand movements, stared at garish illustrations of dark creatures, and solemnly studied the safety sections of her potions book.
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    ...clearly Euphy is going to be BFFs with Hermione. That and a good chance of going to Ravenclaw.

    Tekomandor said:
    That was, until Septima emerged from the hairpin a girl of about Euphemia's height.
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    This sentence isn't particularly clear. @Tekomandor I think you might want to replace that "a" with "as a".

    Tekomandor said:
    It struck Euphemia that she had just played her Uncle like a fiddle.
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    Good job Euphy! Before you know it you'll be slinging half-truths and misdirections everywhere like the honorary Fae you are.

    Tekomandor said:
    [x] Compartment inhabited only by a curly haired, bookish girl.

    [x] Compartment currently seating a red-headed boy, and a brown haired girl fussing over a toad.

    [x] Compartment inhabited by a familiar blonde-haired git. Euphemia was tempted to annoy him somehow.
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    Click to shrink...

    ...let's not go and pick on Malfoy. That might make him think we like him, or worse like like him!

    Given her demonstrated personality so far I'm not sure Euphy would get on with Ron. Although I'm wondering if that is Hermione fussing with the toad or Fem!Nevile.

    Incidentally I'm betting the first option is a fakeout and isn't Hermione but Padma given the whole "curly haired" bit. Still going with it though.

    [x] Owl
    [x] Name (Hedwig)
    [x] Compartment inhabited only by a curly haired, bookish girl.

    I went with Hedwig partially out of laziness and partially because I figure it's still something Euphy would do, picking a name out of a history book that sounds nice.
     
    Ha, Fem!Neville with the toad. I too am glad to see this quest continued. :)

    [x] Compartment inhabited only by a curly haired, bookish girl.

    Bookish? Books are lovely!
    -Euphemia

    I presume that the girl actually has a book out, or else it may be difficult to identify someone as "bookish" in a glance.

    I'm fine with any of the pets. I do kind of wonder whether rats and toads receive any ability boosts, otherwise owls are the obvious choice. I also wonder whether the QM changes cats to rats for a reason or on a whim.
     
    [x] Rat
    [x] Molly
    [x] Compartment currently seating a red-headed boy, and a brown haired girl fussing over a toad.

    Because Scabbers needs a friend, and Ron will get a kick out of a rat named after his mom.

    Super happy to see this continued btw. I was always curious how you changed the setting.
     
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    [x] Rat
    [x] Molly
    [x] Compartment currently seating a red-headed boy, and a brown haired girl fussing over a toad.
     
    [x] Owl
    [x] Name (Hedwig)
    [x] Compartment inhabited only by a curly haired, bookish girl

    Reading through the previous updates I'd say Euphemia seems best suited for Hufflepuff.
     
    [x] Owl
    [x] Name (Hedwig)
    [x] Compartment inhabited only by a curly haired, bookish girl.
     
    [x] Rat
    [x] Reepicheep
    [x] Compartment currently seating a red-headed boy, and a brown haired girl fussing over a toad.
     
    1.5
  • Threadmarks
    • The Last Knight of Autumn - 1.5

    "Is it okay if I sit in here?" Euphemia asked, as she gently pushed the door open. She'd found her trunk easy enough to lift; which seemed rather odd - but then she'd begun to get the impression that she'd been involved in some odd things, even for a witch, after she'd met Septima at that park. Hedwig, her owl she'd named out of a history book, hooted imperiously at her.

    "Oh, of course. My name's Hermione Granger, and no one in my family's magic at all. What's your name?" The girl asked, carefully inserting a bookmark into the thick tome she was reading; and placing it down for the moment.

    "Euphemia Potter." She replied, and Hermione's eyes went wide.

    "Are you really? I've read all about you!" She said, obviously excited.

    "Well, I'm not sure how accurate those books were. I only learnt about Voldemort when Professor McGonagall came to take me to Diagon Alley. My muggle relatives raised me, see." Euphemia replied, warily. She didn't want people to mob her with questions, and she was sure she hadn't really done anything to stop Voldemort. Hermione seemed to weigh up basic logic with her near-unquestioning belief in books; but logic won out.

    "Oh... I guess that makes sense. Well let's not worry about that now - isn't it so exciting? We're going to learn magic! I've already read all my textbooks, of course, and practised a few simple spells. I don't want to be behind the other students from wizarding families, you see." Hermione said, and Euphemia felt a sudden sense of shared excitement. Then her mind caught the meaning of Hermione's words; and Euphemia felt like a total idiot.

    "We were allowed to practice spells at home!?" Euphemia cried out. Hermione gave her a sympathetic look.

    "N-nobody told me not to?" Hermione said weakly, paused, and then went on. "Why don't I show you what I've learnt after I got my letter." She said, and Euphemia smiled at her. The bushy-haired girl pulled out her wand, and the two of them passed the time attempting a few of the very first spells from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One. She now knew how to make small sparks shoot out of her wand and how to make it light up like a torch. Of course, just when she and her new friend had really started to enjoy themselves; a familiar face made himself known.

    "I heard Euphemia Potter was on the train -" Malfoy began, then recognised Euphemia from the robe shop. "It was you, at Madam Malkin's?" Malfoy asked.

    "Yes." Euphemia said tersely, not wanting to hear more of his aural dribble.

    "Well, you never gave me an answer - don't you agree that they should chuck all the muggle born trash out or not?" Draco said, and Euphemia saw Hermione look at her with an expression of shock and hurt. Euphemia had let it go in the shop, because she didn't want to get in trouble before she'd even gotten to Hogwarts.

    But she had a grand total of two friends, and Draco Malfoy had just made one of them think that she was... that she was like him! Euphemia stood, her expression dangerous. She walked up to Malfoy, and instinctively his two cronies - who looked like neanderthals in robes even at the age of eleven - stepped backwards.

    "No, I don't. I don't believe that muggleborns are inferior, or that wizards should rule over muggles or whatever stupid, bigoted nonsense you believe in. IN CASE YOU DIDN'T NOTICE, PEOPLE WHO BELIEVED THAT KILLED MY PARENTS!" She shouted, and punched him. He squealed in pain, and the sound of school shoes rapidly hitting wood en masse could be heard as students rushed to get a look at the confrontation.

    Euphemia knew that she shouldn't have punched him as the prefects started to make their way through the crowd. Malfoy was still on the ground, and blood had started to flow from his nose. His eyes glistened with tears, and he stared up at Euphemia with a stunned look on his face.

    "Y-y-you hit me..." He muttered, as a boy with red hair and a prefect's badge finally made it onto the scene.

    "Alright, everyone back to your compartments! Make way, make way!" He said as another prefect helped Malfoy to his feet. "Now what on Earth is going on here?" The red haired prefect asked, as Hermione continued to look slightly stunned.

    "This crazed girl hit me after I simply tried to say he-" Malfoy began, only to have Hermione speak for the first time in the whole crisis.

    "That's not true! You wanted Euphemia to agree with all your horrible beliefs about muggleborns! You said that you wanted us all kicked out!" Hermione said, tears in her eyes as she screamed at Malfoy and the prefect. She didn't seem quite aware of what she was doing, and when she stopped she seemed to realise that she'd just screamed at an authority figure.

    "Is that true, Malfoy?" The other prefect asked, her voice cool as ice.

    "I didn'-" He began, but the male prefect cut him off.

    "There will be no talk of that kind tolerated at Hogwarts - understand?" He asked, and Malfoy nodded reluctantly. Then he turned to Euphemia. "And no matter the provocation, there's no reason to resort to muggle dueling! Both of you will get off with a warning this time, but if I ever catch either of you at this again it will be detention with Filch!" He said, and then people began to leave and Euphemia sank back down into her seat.

    "I can't believe I screamed at a prefect, surely they'll kick us out and-" Hermione began, but Euphemia interrupted her.

    "I only got a warning, and they told Malfoy right off for what he said. It'll be fine." She said, as she distracted her new friend with a question about what house she wanted to be in. Euphemia's mind wandered, and she thought - did she have any preference herself? Or was she content to let whatever mechanism decided, decide.

    [x] Yes
    [x] Write In​
    [x] No
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • *remembers what this thread is* It's always a pleasant surprise when this thread rises from the dead. Nice to see us getting along with Hermione.

    [x] Yes
    -[x] Not the one that jerk is in.

    Who would want to share a House with that asshole? I have no preference otherwise.
     
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