❝𝑨 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒔.
𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆❞
A Muggleborn in Slytherin was unheard of. Until Emelia Clermont came along in 1991. This is her story, and how s...
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ⅲ.🇨🇱🇦🇸🇸🇪🇸
Emelia had to admit, the first night at the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry had flopped. As soon as she had announced her blood status -which to her defence, in the heat of the moment she forgot that Slytherins were biased- they scooted away from her as far as they could.
The rest of the evening, she could hear whispers all around her while they pointed at her. And of course, as the cherry on top, all of her housemates glared at her while throwing the mandatory insult once and a while.
So, when she was sitting in transfiguration the next morning as her first class, her excitement of coming to the school had diminished.
There was a tawny cat sitting on the Professor's desk, its eyes attentively scanning the room.
The door suddenly burst open, revealing Harry Potter and the Weasley boy.
"Whew! We made it, mate. Can you imagine old McGonagall's face if we were late first day out?" the redhead remarked.
The cat narrowed its eyes, leapt up and transformed into old McGonagall herself. Weasley's mouth dropped open in amazement while Emelia's eyes widened.
"That was bloody brilliant!"
"Thank you for that assessment, Mr Weasley. But perhaps it might be more useful if I transfigured Mr Potter or yourself into a pocket watch. That way one of you might be on time."
"We got lost," Harry sheepishly admitted.
"Then perhaps a map. I trust you don't need one to find your seats?"
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex, dangerous and valuable magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Use it skillfully and it may, one day, save your life. Make a mistake and you could find yourself with a toad's head and a monkey's tail."
McGonagall opened a textbook and started her lecture, "All right then. Shall we?"
Emelia leaned forward, eager to hear every syllable escaping the Professor's mouth.
♔
As Professor Snape paced imperiously, Emelia and the others sat in dead silence, eyes wandering to the pickled animals floating in glass jars along the cold stone walls.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few..."
The Professor's dark-as-the-night coloured eyes shifted to the Malfoy boy, who smirked.
"Who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death. Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to... Not pay attention."
