Cordelia Potter-Clermont, born a Potter but raised as a Clermont, is a girl caught between two legacies. When she arrives at Hogwarts in her sixth year, she is a whispered enigma-brilliant, alluring and veiled in shadows. Unlike her brother James, C...
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Cordelia's first impressions of Hogwarts were far from ideal. The peculiarities began at the train station. Standing among Muggles with her owl felt oddly out of place, and the act of running through a solid wall made her feel like she was performing some sort of circus trick. One could only wonder how often the Muggles, who inadvertently witnessed such an act, dismissed it as the result of too much gin or a failing mind. Then there was the journey itself, far too long for her taste. She couldn't help but think, why not use a Portkey or Floo Powder? Why subject everyone to such a tedious trip when magic offered simpler solutions?
But what truly tested her patience was the unpleasant odor that clung to the air within the train. It looked clean enough, but the smell was hard to ignore. At least, to her relief, it seemed to fade as the journey wore on.
Unfortunately, the trials of her journey did not end there. Each lavatory she came upon seemed to be locked—three in a row, no less. Of course, she couldn't simply use magic to force one open; the thought of barging in on someone was far too mortifying to consider.
She had tried to make her way back to her brother's compartment, but the train's labyrinthine corridors, with their identical doors and narrow passages, quickly made her lose track of her bearings. It was only her second time traveling by train—the first time had been when she was a small child, too young to remember anything clearly—and the unfamiliarity of it all only heightened her frustration.
And so, she wandered through the narrow corridors, searching for an open bathroom, or even just a glimpse of James. A wave of frustration washed over her at the thought that she might need her brother's help before she had even set foot at Hogwarts. Would she continue to rely on him at Hogwarts? No, she resolved fiercely, she would not. She had managed five years at Beauxbatons on her own—two years at Hogwarts would be no different. And in any case, James would not be around next year.
At last, on her fourth attempt, Cordelia found a lavatory that didn't appear to be locked. She reached out, her hand grasping the cool metal of the handle, and began to turn it—only to feel a sudden, sharp sting explode across the back of her right hand. The pain was immediate, hot and searing, like a lash of fire against her skin.
Instinctively, she whipped her left hand into motion, her wand already poised, and cast a spell toward the direction from which the attack had come.
The hex struck Regulus with such force that he barely had a moment to register what was happening. One moment he was standing, and the next, a searing, agonizing pain shot up from his calves, as if they had been severed from his body. His legs gave way, and he crumpled to his knees, a cry escaping his lips. His wand slipped from his grasp as he fought against the waves of agony that seemed to tighten with every heartbeat.
Cordelia's eyes remained narrowed, her wand still raised, her breath steady but quickened by the sudden burst of action. As the dust settled, she caught sight of a figure on his knees, crumpled against the wall, his hand clutching at his leg as if to confirm it was still there. Recognition flickered in her eyes—the dark hair, the sharp features. It was the boy she had seen earlier, the one who had courteously opened the door for her.
