The Greatest Love to Roam These Halls (TMR x fem!OC)

Chapter 1: Homecoming

I walked through the doors into the Great Hall, looking at the starry ceiling I had seen so many times before...

Let's back up a bit, shall we?

I was about to start my first year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. How would I know about the famed enchanted ceiling if I was a measly first year, you ask? Well, for one thing, it's not famed for no reason. For another, this isn't my first life, and I remember all those that came before.

You might have heard of the moniker 'Master of Death' at some point, yes? Well, that's me, Serena West. That's the name I was given this time around. It's better than some others I went by in previous lives (who names their child Gertrude, I mean, honestly?! I suppose it was the 1600s, but that's no excuse!), but oh, well. 

Anyhow, I have been reincarnated (with my memories intact, at least) around 26 times at this point. Not all of them are immediately one after another, so you can imagine how old I truly am. I try not to bring baggage from previous lifetimes into the next ones, which are essentially clean slates, away from the consequences of living those lives. Or so one would think...

Oof, I keep getting off track. I started this by talking about my Sorting ceremony. Let's get on with that, shall we?

Professor McGonagall was calling up the new batch of first years one at a time, and she had just begun to call for the next child, saying a name that stunned almost everyone in that hall, so much so that, for the longest time, I honestly believed none of these retarded people could count, because if they could, surely they would know how old the child was, and therefore when he would start school?

"Harry Potter" Pin. Drop. Silence. No one moved.

After a while, the Hat spoke. "Gryffindor!"

Silence. Then, "YES!! We got Potter! We got Potter! We got Potter!" I should make friends with those twins, they amuse me. Thanatos knows how monotonous life gets after the first ten or so chances to cause havoc.

After a lot of standing, numb legs, and sighing, McGonagall finally arrived at the names starting with 'R'. After more standing, sighing, and Merlin knows what else, I was called up.

"West, Serena" The professor's Scottish brogue rang through the dining hall. I walked up to the stool and placed the hat on my head, waiting for the Hat's voice to address me as I knew it would.

"Back again, Lorelei? Or are you Jemima once again?"

"It's Serena now, Alistair."

"Well, that's a mouthful. How do you keep up with these names and respond accordingly?"

"I don't. You could call me something else if you'd like."

"I think I'll call you Analise. I've always liked that name, and it was what you were called when we first met."

Now, that was not my first life or my first name, but it was the name I had when Hogwarts was founded, giving me my first life as a witch.

"I remember that. I was so carefree and innocent then. I was exactly what I looked like; a child."

"Enough with the depressing talk, little one. You do this every time you come back! Now, which house would you like to be sorted into this time?"

"You know which one."

"Very well. Then better be...Slytherin!"

Polite clapping commenced, mostly from my new housemates, some people in other houses, people who possess some modicum of basic human decency, y'know, all that schtick. Walking to the Slytherin table, I looked to the teachers, knowing I was the only one who could see the flash of red in that one stuttering teacher's eyes. As I sat down, Professor Let's-pretend-to-be-nervous looked towards me and, catching his eye, I mouthed 'Hello, Tom.'

I took great pleasure in watching his eyes widen, shock flickering across his face. Paying him no more attention, I turned toward my fellow Slytherin first-years, just as "Zabini, Blaise" joined us, sitting down opposite me.

Now, my tongue tends to run away with me a little.

"Oh, you poor thing, you had to stand there, not making a sound, this whole time?!"

Yes, I know my priorities are a little skewed, but come on; I almost died just waiting for 'R', and this child stood there patiently until 'Z'!

Zabini, a platinum-haired, grey-eyed boy I had seen on the Express, and a girl with strawberry-blonde hair turned to look at me in disbelief, until Zabini broke out into a grin at my nonchalance and said, "I like this one." Oh, joy. That one sentence, however, seemed to have gained me three new friends by the time dinner was over.

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Hope you will like this story, and stick with it. My posting will most likely be extremely sporadic (and full of random vocabulary, because otherwise I would sound like a 3-year-old).

~Lila