The Ravenclaw Nine || BTS Harry Potter AU

Chapter 1

Jaelyn's Point of View

Magic felt like a tingle of electricity that made goosebumps spring up on your arms and legs. It almost seemed as though something was tickling your veins, sending a static warmth from your fingertips to your toes. Witches and wizards knew this phenomenon well and often relished in the power they held.

Jaelyn Collins thought she was getting a cold.

"You can't be sick now!" her best friend Chloe Bennett exclaimed. Her long blonde hair was tucked into a sensible bun that bounced loosely with every step. "We only have a month left before school starts, and we've got to make the best of it."

"By doing what?" Jaelyn scowled. "Fetching groceries for our mothers? Scouring the streets for money? Playing games of 'Let's See Who Gets Mugged Next'?" She let out a frustrated sigh. Across the road, an apartment building had been reduced to ashes – she could still remember the pulsating explosion in her ears, coupled with the screams of victims as bombs showered from the sky. The grocery bag felt like a dead weight in her hand, sinking with the amount of money she had been forced to pay as prices skyrocketed in response to the struggling economy. "I wish the war had never happened."

"Everyone wishes that, Jaelyn," Chloe reminded her gently, ever the most clear-headed of the two. "We should at least be thankful that it ended."

They reached the impoverished neighborhood where their homes resided. They were nearly neighbors – one rundown building separated their houses. The residence of old had been vacant for as long as Jaelyn could remember, and it had begun to sag under the weight of its abandonment. The shingles on the roof were nearly falling off, and the sallow brown paint was peeling. Jaelyn's mother had forbidden her from entering the house, but she never could understand why. She and Chloe had visited the house once out of curiosity, and it had been empty – it was hardly the monstrosity her mother had made it out to be.

"Meet me outside once you have finished helping your mother," Chloe requested, standing on the broken doorstep of her house, "and we will do something fun to make the summer worthwhile."

"Okay," Jaelyn replied, but she was rather doubtful this summer would amount to anything substantial. How could it, after all, when London was still suffering the effects of a second World War?

From observing the foyer of Jaelyn's home, one could tell that the conditions in which she lived were less than convenient. The puke-green wallpaper was peeling, and the wood floors were filthy and broken. Ratty coats hung on makeshift hangers in the nearest closet along with expired rations left over from the war. Four scuffed pairs of shoes belonging to each member of the family were left haphazardly on a soiled rug. High-pitched cries were her usual greeting, and today was no exception.

"Good afternoon, Mother." Jaelyn entered the kitchen and dropped the grocery bag on the table. Ms. Marcia Collins seemed more frazzled than usual. Loose hairs from her tight bun stuck out of her head in odd directions. She bounced a wailing baby in her arms, her face dark with fatigue and glistening with sweat.

"You got the groceries I asked for?" she demanded breathlessly, forgoing a greeting. "Potatoes, peas, rice, and–"

"–milk? Yes, I have everything. I also got a pound of sugar – I noticed we were running low."

"Oh, bless you." She shifted the baby to one arm so that she could load the groceries into their ancient refrigerator. The tiny child let out a piercing cry that made both Jaelyn and her mother wince. A shout followed from the upper level, and Jaelyn's mother sighed. "Go see to your brother, will you? He has been arguing with Soon-ja for hours."

Jaelyn trudged up a rickety staircase to the dusty attic, which was flooded with boxes that doubled as beds for the unluckiest of the family. Jungkook, her twin, stood in front of their eldest sister, his long hair hiding his face from view. Both of their words were so swift that they were almost unintelligible.

"Jungkook, this can't happen anymore!" Soon-ja shouted, her glasses hanging dangerously low on the bridge of her nose. "One of these days, you are going to get yourself killed. You need to report this to the police!"

"You don't understand," Jungkook retorted. "That will only make it worse!"

"What's going on?" Jaelyn demanded, running in between her siblings. Her question was answered when Soon-ja jabbed her finger at the purpling bruise on Jungkook's eye. Further observation revealed a bloody cut on his lip and a ring of bruises circling his throat. "Kook, what happened?"

"Nothing," he growled, attempting to cover his face with his hands.

Soon-ja persisted, "The bullying hasn't stopped, and he is refusing to report it."

"Who did it this time?"

"No. One. I told you – I'm fine." He cast a troubled look at his twin, silently begging her not to press the issue. Her pity for him was the only factor that allowed her to let him off the hook.

"Wash off your lip," she instructed gently. "Soon-ja, help Mum in the kitchen. I promise we won't report the bullies." Ignoring Soon-ja's immediate protests, he nodded his somber thanks and shuffled outside to clean his wound in the public bathroom down the street – they didn't have a functional one at home.

"If he dies one of these days," Soon-ja snarled, "it will be your fault." She shoved her rounded glasses up on her nose and descended the shaky stairs to aid their mother. Jaelyn's face twisted with hurt, and she weakly climbed the last set of stairs. She reached a square of space above the attic that appeared as nothing more than a dormer to the outside. She flicked the curtain away from the cracked window and let the cool spring air seep into the room. Two boxes doubled as a window seat – she sat on them carefully and rested her head against the splintered wood wall.

At eleven years old, she felt like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Every day, she had to keep her siblings from arguing, scavenge for money, and pray she wouldn't be killed on her way home from running errands. She didn't think it could get any worse – she had sunk so deep into the hole of poverty that it seemed impossible to escape.

"Jaelyn!" Soon-ja screeched up the stairs. "Your friend is waiting for you outside."

Oh, yes, Jaelyn remembered. Chloe wanted to make their summer worthwhile.

She trod down the stairs to the foyer, where her blonde friend greeted her with a smile. She tossed a worn baseball up and down in one hand, and the other clutched a large stick that would suffice as a bat. "Are you ready to have fun?" she asked, grinning.

Jaelyn was very glad she had worn pants that day because her afternoon was consumed by running. She and Chloe designated splotches of tar as bases and imagined the rumbling of automobiles to be applause – a miserable rendition of baseball but entertaining nonetheless.

"And winding up for the swing, we have our triple-time champion, Jaelyn Collins," Chloe narrated as she clutched the baseball in her hands. "There goes the pitch... Jaelyn swings her bat... the ball soars through the air... and – oh, no."

Chloe's mouth morphed into an aghast "o", but her scream got stuck in her mouth. Jaelyn had swung too broadly, and the ball had smashed into one of the abandoned house's blacked-out windows. The glass shattered with an ear-splitting noise and a crash resounded from within, making both girls flinch.

"We're dead," Jaelyn whimpered, her gaze flitting worriedly to the window into her mother's kitchen. Thankfully oblivious, the woman continued chopping potatoes. "She hasn't noticed!"

"Jaelyn..."

"Oh, my goodness, I thought she was going to kill us."

"Jaelyn..."

"But we are all right! This calls for a celebration. What do you say we play another round, this time avoiding the window?"

"Jaelyn, will you please listen to me?" Chloe demanded, her voice trembling. "When we last went inside that house, it was empty."

"And?" Jaelyn was still beaming, overjoyed that she would live to see another day.

"No one has gone in or out of that house in all the time we have lived here, correct?"

"Well, we call it 'abandoned' for a reason. What are you getting at?"

Chloe frowned, frustrated. "If the house is empty and no one goes in or out of it, then how did we hear a crash?"

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