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Assistant: Title: Kaleidoscopic Grangers
        Author: AdmiralPegasus undefined 
        Chapter: 198/376 
        Summary: If blindness wasn’t enough for Ariadne Granger to deal with upon attending Hogwarts, being the transgender Girl Who Lived didn’t help matters.Blind trans girl Harry Potter fic to spite JK Rowling’s TERF @ss. Starts before Ariadne has even figured out she’s a girl and before she is rescued from the Dursleys.Since this fic is gonna be quite long, I’m adding a key here. Note, some things might lack context if you skip.Chapters 1-6: Pre-Philosopher’s Stone.Chapters 7-33: Philosopher’s Stone. Minimal plot divergence.Chapters 34-75: Chamber of Secrets. Moderate plot divergence.Chapters 76-109: Prisoner of Azkaban. Major plot divergence.Chapters 110-148: Goblet of Fire. Major plot divergence.Chapters 149-192: Order of the Phoenix. Plot-adjacent - Same sorta things happen, but in a different way.Chapters 193-236: Half Blood Prince. Major plot divergence.Chapters 237-288: Deathly Hallows. Major plot divergence.Chapters 289-375: Post Deathly Hallows "Epilogue" content. Complete plot divergence.
        Contents: Chapter 198: Sixth Years
    

    

        
          
          
            The New Marauders go up to the feast, to find a concerning warning, and the news that the reputation of the Grangers has taken a rather extreme shift.
          
        

      
        
          Oh boy I’m having some fun, and always adding little things to the planning doc as I go.Recurring TW: This fic will be dealing with narratives of PTSD manifesting in depression and paranoia.
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
    
  “Is that a metal detector you’ve got there, Mister Filch?” Hermione asked curiously, awkwardly fiddling with her thumbs after having already apologized for the spaciousness of her bag as he took part in searching the belongings of every student - which had answered Ron’s question of why there was a queue.

  “Yeah, and what of it?” Filch replied irritably, briefly looking to the headphones and the contraption strapped across him. “Not up to your hoity toity witchy standards?”

  “Oh, no, not at all, Mister Filch,” Hermione protested quickly. “It’s quite clever of you, actually.” Filch drew back, bewildered at her. “Most witches and wizards wouldn’t think to circumvent a metal detector if they were actually trying to sneak something in.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Filch told her darkly, tapping his nose with a smile. “They think they’re all so clever, but oh no, they’re 
  
    above 
  
  good ol’ electromagnetism,” he added, shaking the metal detector enthusiastically.

  “What’s that mean?” Ginny asked quietly, nudging Ariadne as they both waited with Ron for Filch to finish with Hermione’s bag, having found it quite amusing to watch Filch bury his arm into Ginny’s cute little leatherette purse. Ron’s core, meanwhile, had exploded into nerves after Filch had found his calendar, but luckily, Filch hadn’t examined it in such detail to notice it marked full moons.

  “It uses an electromagnetic field to detect metal, metal changes the field, which it picks up,” Ariadne whispered back. Ariadne, meanwhile, was a little uneasy, stepping into Hogwarts. While the fields were not so active they completely blocked her sense, the entirety of the grounds of the castle were encased in a dozen layers of multicoloured magic, a great dome that towered far above the Astronomy Tower, curving down to the walls that lay in the wooded outskirts of the grounds and ran all the way around even into the Forbidden Forest. Under Umbridge and the insistence that Voldemort had not come back, the castle had been undefended, but now… now it was a fortress. The only gap in the perimeter that she could see was the perfectly rectangular section that had been sliced out of it for the gate, but Ariadne could see its magic folded back on itself, prepared to be closed again once all the students had entered, and there were Aurors all around.

  “All right, you ain’t hiding anything, on you go ya bl@@dy overintelligent tykes,” Filch said wryly, dismissively giving Hermione back her bag as he pulled it closed. “Bigger on the inside bags, hope there aren’t any more of those.”

  “There probably won’t be. Thanks Mister Filch,” Hermione replied, smiling to him before stepping on over to her peers as Filch grumbled that he ought to knock on wood. “Let’s be off, shall we?” she said, and so the four of them began on to the castle that loomed over the trees. Luna had long gone on, since he needed to go sit with the Ravenclaws anyway, and so it was just them as they took the familiar path to Hogwarts. Ron seemed to be feeling a little better, now it wasn’t so muggy and horribly warm amongst the early autumn breeze, although Ariadne wasn’t sure if she’d misinterpreted a new and slight limp as a spring in his step. Perhaps he just liked being outside. However, it wasn’t long before they weren’t outside anymore, walking up the steps to the Great Hall, and where the four tables awaited through the doors, their magic glimmering in the promise of lurching Ariadne’s magic sense into nausea as they always did, but for the moment, bare.

  “Hey Hermione, Ariadne!” Parvati called, jogging up beside them from behind with Lavender and Sally-Anne in quick pursuit. “Back playing up, Ron?”

  “Yeah,” Ron grumbled.

  “So, 
  
    I
  
   hear that you two have some fun news you haven’t been talking about!” Parvati said happily, tapping Hermione’s arm playfully and making her cringe away. “Is it true he really made you the House of Granger?” she asked eagerly.

  “Um… yeah, yeah he did,” Ariadne replied, with a deep breath. 
  
    Oh dear
  
  . It was in that moment Ariadne stopped doing her best to ignore the looks she and Hermione were getting. She had instinctively expected disdain, mockery, pity, as she’d encountered the year before. But this wasn’t that. No, the younger kids around them were openly glancing and pointing, hushed tones talking about them. It seemed Dumbledore had been right about one thing, and that was how wizarding society took their newfound nobility seriously.

  “Oh god, I forgot about that,” Hermione mumbled resignedly, as Ariadne became extraordinarily conscious of how she was walking up the stairs. People were watching them, and she was only noticing it even more as they reached the Great Hall. At least she was short, shorter even than a number of the second years, and Hermione wasn’t exceptionally tall, so they weren’t so visible through a crowd. And it wasn’t as if they were flaunting it, they did look like ordinary students aside from her eyes being a recognizable feature.

  “You forgot?!” Lavender exclaimed incredulously. “It’s been in the 
  
    Daily Prophet
  
   for months! I mean, you’re a 
  
    muggleborn
  
   House, it’s never really happened before!”

  “Yeah!” Sally-Anne piped up as they entered the Great Hall. “Sure, there really isn’t such thing as a pureblooded witch or wizard in the first place, not anymore, but you’ve 
  
    replaced
  
   one of the Sacred 28 Houses. Your Mum and Dad are muggles, no muggles have ever lead a wizarding House until now!” Ariadne frowned, but not for the reminder of how momentous their position as the House of Granger really was in the wider scheme of history, as they passed under the great archway and stepped into the Hall. The Hall was as she remembered it. Candles hovered with a glimmer of magical light in multitudes above their heads, the rainbow clouds of the ceiling, showing her sighted compatriots the night sky above them, the green-lined tables as always, and the wide table at the head of the room, where the teachers awaited them. But of them, there were two anomalies.

  “So what, do you guys have like… secret meetings and stuff? Have you met the 
  
    Minister
  
  ?” Lavender asked eagerly.

  The first was a man she’d rather expected - the man who’d disguised himself as a one-person sofa in a deliberately derelict house, and whom Dumbledore had rehired, with her own help, for some reason. Professor Horace Slughorn. The second was the man sitting next to him, but it was not his identity that was strange, even if a surge of irritable hatred burst through her at the sight of Severus Snape, sitting at the head table, the same black and white Dark Mark on his arm as on Draco’s. It was what was new about him. About his magic were three golden-white binding rings, identical to those that lay about Kreacher’s magic, identical to those that had bound her to the Triwizard Tournament only two years before.

  “What the hell?” Ariadne murmured, frowning at the head table.

  “No, no we don’t,” Hermione told Lavender, shaking her head as they all took seats. “And no, we haven’t met Scrimgeour either. What is it, Ariadne?” she added, before noting Ariadne’s distraction.

  “I…” Ariadne sat down beside her hurriedly, realizing she was the only one still standing. “Snape’s taken an Unbreakable Vow,” she whispered, as Professor Flitwick convened what must have been the school choir at the front of the Hall.

  “What?” Hermione hissed, spinning to look up at the Professor behind the choir, as Ariadne’s view was cut off. “Can you tell what the Vow 
  
    is
  
   or can you just see it?”

  “Just see it,” Ariadne replied quietly, shaking her head and leaning over to keep their conversation unheard. “Can’t see who he made it with either. Could be Dumbledore, could just as easily be Voldemort,” she added with a grim exhalation.

  “Bl@@dy hell,” Ron mumbled, evidently having been listening as he leaned over with a pained grunt. “Neither of those is any good.”

  “No. If it was Dumbledore, it means it’s to stop him from betraying us, like Kreacher, even though… well, you know my feelings on that. If it’s not…” Hermione replied, as Professor Flitwick and the school choir rang up into their performance and Ariadne frowned at yet another new development of the year. But where Professor Snape’s Unbreakable Vow was concerning at best, this was not, as a familiar magical core jogged up beside them, bobbing happily and far more confidently than Ariadne had ever seen her.

  “
  
    Tori?
  
  ” Ariadne asked pointedly, as she turned to face Tori Cobbler-Royal, smiling curiously as she noted what was starkly different about her fellow transgender girl at Hogwarts from when she’d last encountered her - Tori’s hair was grown out, bobbing about her arms in a feminine cut, and her frame was adorned not in the boy’s uniform, but the girls’.

  “H-hi Ariadne!” Tori exclaimed excitedly, her new shoes tapping on the stonework. “I… oh Merlin… hi! I… I came out!” she cried ecstatically, as Ariadne beamed at her.

  “Cob-... Cobbler-Royal?” Clarabelle Burton, Ginny’s dormmate, spluttered, looking to see her. “You’re a girl now, kinda like Granger?”

  “Yeah!” Tori replied. “Oh! I got these little rainbow earrings! Too late for Pride, piercings were still healing, but I like ‘em,” she told them eagerly, pulling her hair back to reveal the little arch-shaped earrings she was wearing. Annoyingly, Ariadne couldn’t sense their colours, but she smiled happily nonetheless. “Did you go? I went with my Mum and Dad,” she asked Ariadne.

  “No,” Ariadne replied wryly. “With everything happening I probably shouldn’t. Maybe-may… maybe when it’s all over.” She might even have considered attending the parade, had it not taken place on the same day as Sirius’ funeral, and even if it hadn’t, she doubted it would have raised her spirits. Not without Sirius being there too. Tori nodded forlornly, looking at her feet before jumping and raising her hands.

  “Oh! Oh! I also painted my nails,” she told them, showing them off, again unfortunately invisible to Ariadne’s sense. “They’re a bit messy, I’m still learning,” she admitted sheepishly.

  “Oh wow, that’s a really nice colour on you, the gold!” Lavender told her, looking over curiously. “We can help with like, girl stuff, if you like?” Lavender offered gladly, smiling warmly. “Ariadne and Hermione aren’t that good at makeup, I had to tell Ariadne there were hair spells in the first place,” she added snidely, laughing, making Ariadne blush.

  “Yeah, d’you wanna sit with us in class?” Clarabelle asked.

  “I-I’d love to!” Tori gasped happily, looking back and forth between Lavender and Clarabelle, before the Hall fell silent for a brief moment and began lightly applauding the now complete choir performance as the students all took their seats again, and Professor Flitwick moved to return to his chair at the head table. “I should probably go, they’ll be having the Sorting soon. See you, thanks!” she said hesitantly, before quickly making her way back to the Hufflepuff table.

  “I like her,” Clarabelle said, turning to them as Tori walked away. “She seems really nice.” It was with that, however, that the Hall was bid to be quiet, and Professor McGonagall lead the column of brand new first-years into the Hall, as the smaller children marvelled at the ceiling and the floating candles. Some were openly gaping at it all, probably those who’d grown up without magic just like she and Hermione had, and Ariadne couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow that she had lost that wonder for magic, that it had become just another part of day to day life, entirely ordinary. Ironic, that the magic of it all should have left magic itself. Then again, she supposed, that was itself fairly ordinary for the magical world, and normalcy was relative. Even Apparation, the ability to 
  
    teleport
  
  , was run-of-the-mill to them, and handled much like driving was in the non-magical world. Frowning, however, Ariadne couldn’t help but think there were fewer first-years arriving than she’d ever seen - their own year had been small, but the first-years of 2006 seemed even fewer in number. However, she was content to curiously watch as an Alys Archer was sorted into Hufflepuff. It didn’t take long before, with a sickening lurch, the feast began and heaping platters of food appeared before them all, as there always was for the first night of the school year.

  “So what’d you get up to over the holidays, Neville?” Ron asked curiously, through a mouthful of chicken soup. “Do any, er, cool Herbology stuff?”

  “A little,” Neville replied, over his own food. “Taking care of that Mimbulus Mimbletonia, but the climate here’s no good for it so I’ve left it with Gram,” he added, with an almost forced smile. “She’s been trying to find a Dittany sapling to grow, but they’re really hard to get a hold of, especially nowadays.”

  “Endangered?” Ginny asked curiously, frowning.

  “No,” Neville replied, shaking his head. “Ministry’s just buying up a lot, for Aurors.” Ariadne blinked sadly into her dinner. The war was taking its toll even on Herbology hobbyists. It felt strange, to realize there was a war even happening, despite the presence of Aurors pacing the entrance Hall. “But there’s also an initiative by the Department of Magifloral Conservation to make sure it doesn’t 
  
    become
  
   endangered, Essence of Dittany is really useful for-” Ron snorted. “Oh. I guess 
  
    you 
  
  know that.” Ron nodded darkly.

  “Yeah, I do actually have some,” Ron told him quietly. “Haven’t needed it though. Hopefully it hasn’t gone off, I’ve had it a few years.”

  “Right, yeah. But it gets overharvested, so it’s really hard to find in the wild nowadays,” Neville continued, as Ariadne drew back at the throbbing of her ears caused by the refreshment of the table, that time to begin depositing dessert platters. Ariadne quickly fished out a few Sickles to leave on her plate for whichever Elves had prepared her meal, she knew it wasn’t much, but she only had so much of her allowance for the year left. “It takes a few years for Dittany to go off, yours should be fine.”

  “Does- does he know?” Seamus whispered to Ron from the other side of him, pointing to Neville.

  “Hmm? Oh, yeah. Dean doesn’t though, shut your gob,” Ron replied quietly, before eating some jelly. Seamus nodded, already helping himself to dessert as Ariadne’s dinner plate vanished along with her tip. 

  “Want some?” Seamus asked, holding over a bowl of ice cream.

  “Nah, I’m good,” Ron replied, shaking his head as he passed the bowl along. “
  
    Chocolate
  
  ,” he hissed. Seamus silently mouthed his understanding, as Ariadne gladly took some of the ice cream. “Think I’ll take a bit of apple pie though,” he mumbled, taking a very small slice and adding it to his bowl. “Yeah, Seamus worked it out last year,” Ron whispered to Neville. As they ate, and as Ron ate surprisingly little over dessert, probably due to the sheer quantity of sugar and how ill much more would make him, instead taking the time to quietly cast the glamours he’d evidently forgotten onto his face, Ariadne found herself peoplewatching. Specifically, watching Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin had never been much of a social butterfly, keeping to pure-blood circles and only those he could intimidate, but he was oddly quiet that evening, even for him. He wasn’t even sitting nearby his usual discussion partners, whom he was directing the odd disdainful glare toward, and his magic was bubbling in anxiety as he picked at what was left of his dinner, not even starting dessert before Professor Dumbledore stood and Ariadne snapped her attention away from him.

  “Very best of evenings to you all,” Professor Dumbledore started, raising a hand as the Hall fell quiet, only the occasional clinking of plates and cutlery breaking the silence. “First off, let me introduce the newest member of our staff; Horace Slughorn.” Ariadne politely clapped among the applause of the rest of the school, as Slughorn awkwardly stood and waved gently. “Professor Slughorn, I’m happy to say, has agreed to resume his old post as Potions Master.” Ariadne frowned. She’d known Slughorn had been a Potions Professor in decades prior, but then what was Snape still doing at the table? “Meanwhile, the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts will be taken by Professor Snape.” A chill ran down Ariadne’s spine as her brow furrowed as far as it could go, worried and confused looks spattering about the hall, seemingly more prevalent than the applause for Snape himself, which mostly emanated from Slytherin House, no doubt because he was their Head of House.

  “Snape?” Ron mumbled with a frown.

  “We’ll be-we’ll be-we’ll be learning Defence-fenfen-defence from a guy with a Dark Mark on his arm, lovely,” Ariadne spat sarcastically, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

  “Place your bets, will he be deliberately terrible or will he actually be brilliant? Maybe that’s what the Vow’s for.” Ginny smirked, as Dumbledore continued.

  “Now, as you know, each and every one of you was searched upon your arrival here tonight,” Dumbledore said, fiddling with his cursed hand behind the magical owl podium. “And you have the right to know why. Once, there was a young man, who, like you, sat in this very hall. Walked this castle’s corridors. Slept under its roof. He seemed to all the world a student, like any other. His name? Tom Riddle.” Ariadne took in a hissing breath as Ginny jumped and looked to the front, her magic spasming in the recognition of the name that had plagued her first year at the school, and as hushed whispers filled the Hall, Ariadne put a hand on Ginny’s arm, squeezing her Basilisk tattoo reassuringly. “Today of course, he’s known all over the world by 
  
    another
  
   name. Which is why, as I stand looking out upon you all tonight… I’m reminded of a sobering fact.” Ariadne set her magical gaze upon the nervously bubbling core of Draco Malfoy, and yet kept her gaze on Dumbledore at the same time. “Every day. Every hour. This very minute, perhaps. Dark forces attempt to penetrate this castle’s walls. But in the end, their greatest weapon is 
  
    you
  
  .” 
  
    Indeed
  
  , Ariadne thought, watching as the Slytherin boy looked away from the Headmaster. “Just something to think about. Now, off to bed. Pip-pip.”

  “That was cheerful,” Ron grumbled sarcastically, groaning as he stood up, his voice somehow even dryer as if he were speaking through gravel. “Right, where’re the first years?”

  “I’ll do the talking, at this rate you’ll lose your voice if I don’t,” Hermione told him quickly, herself standing and looking about. “See you in a bit, ‘Adne.”

  “Yeah, see you,” Ariadne replied, standing and stretching her arms.

  “First years! Gryffindor first years, over here!” Hermione called hesitantly, waving her arms in the air before putting one behind herself and fiddling with her cloak as she made a head count. “Hello there! I’m Hermione Granger, this is Ron Weasley, and we’re Gryffindor’s Prefects. It’s our job to show you the way to Gryffindor Tower, where you’ll be sleeping, and answer any questions you might have.”

  “And she’s memorized 
  
    Hogwarts: A History
  
  , so she’ll know the answer,” Ron laughed, his voice scratchy as he coughed. “Sorry, got a sore throat today.”

  “Is it really true you’re a Lady?” a girl, Ava Cooper, blurted immediately, making Hermione freeze a little.

  “Uh… yes. Yes, technically, but we’re not used to all the weird political House stuff, it’s very weird, you can just call me Hermione,” Hermione replied, her tone becoming quickly desperate and exasperated as she wrung her fingers. “Or just Miss Granger, we’re at school, not some kind of high society dinner party,” she added, shaking her head.

  “All right… m’Lady,” Ron grinned, earning a reproachful glare from Hermione. “‘M joking, joking.” Laughing through her nose, Ariadne jogged to catch up with Ginny and Clarabelle, who were walking with Lavender, Sally-Anne and Parvati.

  --

  
  

    
      
        
        
          And so we’re well and truly into Half Blood Prince now. The show’s on the road, and sh@t’s going down.'
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