March 31st, 2004 - the birth of Y/N Crimson.
Two years before the First Wizarding War (1995-2006) ended, the newlyweds - Caspian and Amaryllis - welcomed a beautiful baby girl into the world. A blessing from God himself accorded upon the good Brit...
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"What was he thinking?" Seraphina said, her shoulders pulled tight and square from being jostled at every corner.
Snape had decided on a last-minute triple session — Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Gryffindor — which had resulted in this: an influx of first-years from three different houses, all bumbling their way down to the dungeons like a panicked swarm of bees.
"Well, from what I heard, Snape has a permanent mean streak." Sophie rolled her eyes, bracing herself as she and the others maneuvered through the bottleneck of the hallway. "As if Gryffindor wasn't bad enough, but Slytherin as well? Blimey!"
"It's only because he favours them."
Y/N let out a quiet breath through her nose and kept moving with the others, one hand tight around the strap of her bag so it would not keep slipping from her shoulder every time someone shoved past. The corridor was narrower here, the air damper too, the stone underfoot still holding onto the morning chill. Students kept compressing into one another and then spreading out again whenever the line lurched forward.
"It's a grim look, that's for sure," Seraphina said, flattening herself against the wall for a second so a group of Gryffindors could squeeze by. "Three houses, one hallway. Blimey, suffocate us, why don't you?"
"Just get there quickly," Sophie said. "I don't want to spend another second in this damp hellhole."
Another cluster of first-years pushed ahead of them, and the line stopped again. Somewhere farther down, a prefect was telling someone not to run, which only made them run even more. Y/N caught sight of the staircase leading down into the dungeons ahead, wide stone steps that disappeared into a darker stretch of corridor. The light there was weaker, thinner, and the torches did nothing to warm it.
Sophie peered over the heads in front of them. "I swear, someone's hair is gonna catch on fire."
Aurora looked past them toward the stairs. "Oh, stop bickering, will you? Get a move on."
The crowd shifted again, this time enough that they got to the edge of the stairwell. The temperature dropped by a few degrees as soon as they started down. Someone behind them muttered about mold. Someone else told them to shut up.
Those 'someones' were Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.
Y/N descended with her shoulders held loose and her face unreadable, though she was paying more attention than she looked. Aurora moved closer on the bottom step, keeping pace with her.
