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Assistant: Title: The Untold Tale of a Noble
        Author: aconsideredliterary aconsideredliterary 
        Chapter: 2/26 
        Summary: The story of Ariadne Avery is set in the late 1800s. It picks up from where Hogwarts Legacy (the game) ends—so the start of 6th year. However, the MC of the game will not have a role in the fic since it revolves around The House of Avery. The House of Avery is classified as one of the most powerful wizarding houses of the wizarding world, yet there seems to be very little information about it, and furthermore, a gap from mid-1891 to 1899 (Grindelwald meets Dumbledore). Thus, I intend to fill out that gap while making sense of The "Forgotten" House of Avery—there may come an overlap, so it fits in with the timeline.I know it is a bit crazy of a construct, but who wouldn't read about our loveable Slytherins from the 1800s and see them go through (even more) trauma? I surely would. All jokes aside, I do believe this will give a look into how the wizarding society of the 19th century was (how women, half-bloods, and so on, were treated and seen, the prejudice against goblins, and more), and I hope you will give me the time of day to read it—I promise it's worth it:)-aconsideredliterary, the author
            
            PLEASE REFRAIN FROM COPYING. IF YOU SHARE, GIVE CREDIT! (Socials located in end notes)-Introduction to characters + family dynamics.-WARNING: harsh languageAriadne, along with her little sister, makes her departure to Hogwarts, finally getting an escape from The Avery Estate, where she'd spent her wretched summer being eyed as her father had been a hawk.
        Contents: Chapter 2: Bitter-Sweet Snakebites - 6th year, 1891
    

    

        
          
          
            PLEASE REFRAIN FROM COPYING. IF YOU SHARE, GIVE CREDIT! (Socials located in end notes)- Character introductionsAdriadne's first glance of Hogwarts + her sorting ceremony.
          
        

      
        
          
          (See the end of the chapter for  notes.)
          
      
  

  
  
    
    
  
  
    Shadows settle on the place, that you left.
  
  
    Our minds are troubled by the emptiness.
  
  
    Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time.
  
  
    From the perfect start to the finish line.
  
  
    And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones.
  
  
    'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs.
  
  
    Setting fire to our insides for fun
  
  
    Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong
  
   
September 1st, 1891.When Ariadne, along with Domitia, who'd become bitter with cowardly pettiness (at least, Ariadne believed it she was), had arrived at Hogwarts, the first thing she took notice of was the magnific exterior of the Castle. Some of the towers seemed to nearly reach the clouds. Students of all ages ran around or sat on the perfectly green grass grounds surrounding the grand Castle.It looked to be nothing like Beauxbatons, which, in Ariadne’s mind, was solely pleasant—she wanted nothing to do with that pretentious school any longer.A red-haired woman, seemingly middle-aged, bearing a calm and welcoming smile, had then greeted the two sisters upon their arrival. Even as kind as it'd been of the woman, Ariadne couldn't help but feel like her father had something to do with it. After all, from what she had observed, no other students had been welcomed so... graciously.Regardless, Ariadne figured that it presumably was because most students either lived in the different hamlets surrounding or had taken what she believed was called 'The Hogwarts Express'. In fact, besides the one she and Dom had arrived in, she'd only seen a few other carriages that had taken students, most likely of nobility, to Hogwarts, too.Domitia had then bid Ariadne and the Professor, who'd introduced herself as Professor Weasley, farewell and left her alone with the red-haired woman, though the younger sister did not as much as give Ariadne a smile in the process.
  A pretentious twit of a little sister she'd gotten herself.
Afterwards, Ariadne found herself following Professor Weasley down corridors and flights of stairs. The woman spoke excitedly about each small artefact, painting, or historical thing they passed. Honestly, Ariadne found it quite endearing that someone could be this fond of their workplace.Soon, they'd made it to the Headmaster's office, where the Professor had kindly explained that Ariadne's Father had arranged with Headmaster Black—a close acquaintance of his—that she should be sorted into her house in private.Despite the woman not saying it aloud, Ariande knew it was not just any of the four houses either. No, she, of course, was expected to become a Slytherin, following Avery tradition.A part of Ariadne wanted to defy her father and make her house anything but Slytherin. However, she also knew that it would most likely cause more trouble than be of any gain."Come along, dear," Professor Weasley had said after a statue of a golden griffin, with its wings spread out, each forming a half circle, had risen upwards in a circular motion and revealed a spiral staircase.The Professor proceeded to walk up the stairwell as she gestured for Ariadne to follow.Tracking the gentle-voiced Professor, Ariadne walked into a large office, tall to the roof, with various bookcases, artefacts and whatnot stacked all over.Behind a mahogany desk sat none other than Phineas Nigellus Black. The Headmaster of Hogwarts. He stood up, his posture just as rigid as Trafford's, yet there was a smile on his lips—a somewhat smug one, Ariadne may have added.Ariadne remembered seeing him at parties hosted by the noble houses, strictly for other pureblood families to attend.She had never been keen on Mr Black.Ariadne knew he'd only accepted the position of Headmaster of Hogwarts for the title. In fact, she had noticed, from the few dreary encounters she had had with the highly self-absorbed man, that he was far from interested in anyone, including the students attending Hogwarts, if their presence didn’t gain him anything in return.Mr Black had five children—Cassius, Sirius II, Arcturus, Belvina, and Cygnus Black. Ariadne recalled all of them to be nothing but uptight, privileged mongrels who didn't know how to act decent towards others different from themselves, even if it had hit them in the head."Professor Black," the red-haired woman nodded as he approached them, her demeanour suddenly more earnest."Professor Weasley," Black returned the nod.He then let his eyes flicker towards Ariadne, who stood a little behind—she wasn’t exactly trying to hide, though she wasn’t exactly trying to make notice of herself either... as dimwitted of an attempt as it was."Ah, Ms Avery, welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," the Headmaster greeted, extending a hand."Thank you, sir," Ariadne politely replied while reluctantly accepting the handshake."Your father told me about you having grown into your skin... and I must say, I agree. You've truly become even more beautiful."Black's umber-eyed gaze locked with hers, though, despite his words being directed at her, Ariande firmly believed that he was looking at his reflection in her eyes."Thank you, sir," she civilly replied, a limited smile forcing itself upon her lips.He let his hand gaze linger a bit before retracting it and straightening his back, his shoulders forced upright and back as if he were of the utmost importance.Black cleared his throat, his narrow eyes darting towards Professor Weasley. "Matilda, get the hat, if you so please."The red-haired woman, apparently named Matilda—by full name, Matilda Weasley—gave a quick nod, though as she turned around, Ariadne had sworn she'd seen the Professor roll her eyes, which caused a small but amused smile to creep up on Ariadne's lips.The door closed behind Professor Weasley, and with that, an awkward silence was created within the refined office's walls.Ariadne stood perfectly still, her amber eyes drifting towards the multifarious furnishes and antics placed around the space and landing on a fine-stone pensive of sorts. She'd seen one of those before, back in France. Supposedly, one could store their memories in a small glass vial, and when one needed to revisit them, the memories could be placed in the water of the pensive.Why anyone would want to relive their past was entirely beyond her....but to each their own, Ariande supposed. Just then, the authority titled Black walked towards a glass cabinet, fixing his raven hair in its reflection—Ariadne had to desperately hold back a roll of her eyes. After, he turned around and cleared his throat once again."I take it from Mr Avery that you got in trouble back at Beauboxtons," he guardedly spoke.Ariadne, wanting to jump to her own justification, was given no time to reply. After all, In Black's mind, it was clearly a statement of pure truth, of course, because why would he bother asking what her father had meant, even how it had happened? No, hearing Ariadne's point of view would be utterly absurd! 
  Complete bullocks. 
The Headmaster continued, cutting her to it."I will not tolerate anything kin to delinquency at my school, Ms Avery," he stiffly stated as he approached her, using his taller height to establish a superiority over her, "I shall let you know that Mr Avery has expressed that if you are to step out of line, I will have no choice but to inform him.”"Nonetheless, I understand, Ms Avery, that your experiences at Beauxbatons were... illuminating," he added, clearly having chosen his words carefully.Ariadne felt a chill, wondering how much he knew of her rebellions there. "Illuminating might not be the word I would use, sir," she replied, her voice steady despite the flutter of nervousness in her chest.She turned to face him fully, meeting his gaze with a defiant edge.“Quite the wit you have,“ Black chuckled softly, a sound devoid of true amusement. "Anyway, your father assures me that you are ready to embrace the traditions of your noble blood here at Hogwarts. A fitting choice, considering your, well, potential."That word. Potential. It hung in the air like a veiled threat, one that only confirmed how Ariande was seen—nothing more than appearance and status. She knew their conversation was about more than her sorting; it was a test of her loyalty to her family's ideals."My father has his views," she said cautiously, "But I strive to find my own path here, sir. A path that respects tradition but also seeks progress."Headmaster Black steepled his fingers as he considered her words, "Indeed? And what would this, as you bluntly put it, progress look like to you, Ms Avery?"Ariadne paused, aware that her next words might define her tenure at Hogwarts, "Progress, to me, means learning from all, regardless of blood status. It means valuing people for their actions and character, not their heritage."A silence stretched between them, the air filled with the quiet ticking of an ancient clock, punctuating every increasingly tense second. The Headmaster studied her thoughtfully, his expression unreadable, and then, with deliberate slowness, he reached into his desk and pulled out a small, battered leather case as if trying to stretch out the time."You speak of ideals that are... ambitious," he finally said, "Progress, as you call it, can be a dangerous pursuit if not tempered with wisdom."Ariadne held his gaze, her resolve hardening, "With all due respect, sir, isn’t it also dangerous to stagnate? To refuse to learn from the past and from those different from ourselves?"Black’s lips twitched slightly as if amused by her retort, "Indeed, Miss Avery, history is replete with the failures of those unwilling to evolve. However, let us not confuse progress with rebellion.""Isn't progress sometimes born out of rebellion, sir?" Ariadne asked, her tone respectful yet challenging, "Sometimes we must challenge the status quo in order to bring about meaningful change." "A sharp mind," he observed. "Your father did, in fact, also mention your... quite spirited nature. Let us hope that your time at Hogwarts hones that spirit rather than breaks it. What do you mean to learn here with this given progress of yours, then?""I intend to learn from the best and use that knowledge to improve whatever I can," she said, feeling the weight of his words, "Isn’t that the purpose of education?""Perhaps," Black conceded, "But remember, education at Hogwarts is not merely academic. It is also about understanding one's place in the wizarding world.""And if one's place could be more than what tradition dictates?" she pressed.He smiled thinly, "Then one had better be prepared to fight for it—not just with words but with actions that prove one's worth."The room fell silent as they each considered the other's statement, a silent acknowledgement of the challenge laid out. It was then that Professor Weasley returned, the atmosphere shifting as she carried the age-old Sorting Hat in her arms, a reminder of the impending decision that awaited Ariadne."Very well," he said, his voice low, "We shall see if the Sorting Hat agrees with your... progressive… aspirations."As Headmaster Black spoke, Professor Weasley walked towards them, holding the venerable Sorting Hat. Its appearance was comical yet imposing, belying its critical role in determining the futures of all who came to Hogwarts. She handed it to the Headmaster, who then placed it ceremoniously onto a wooden stand."Ms. Avery," Black continued, nodding towards the Hat, "If you will."With a mixture of trepidation and defiance, Ariadne stepped forward. She could feel the eyes of the past Headmasters on her as she placed the Hat gingerly on her head. It slumped slightly over her eyes, nearly casting her world into darkness.Then, a small, sly voice whispered in her ear, "Ah, another Avery. I see ambition, cunning, a sharp mind... traits fit for Slytherin, no doubt. But oh, there's more here, isn't there? A desire to defy, to prove... Interesting."Ariadne held her breath, her thoughts a whirlwind of fear and hope. Would the Hat bow to her family's expectations, or could it see the person she wished to become—the person she needed to become?"Curious," the Hat mused aloud, making both the Headmaster and Professor Weasley lean in a bit, "You could do well in Slytherin; use it to your advantage to forge the alliances you will need to survive here. But your heart seems to strive for something more... equitable. There's a fire in you, child, one that Slytherin could temper into a formidable weapon..."Black's eyes narrowed, sensing where the Hat was going, "The Hat takes many factors into account, Ms Avery," he sharply remarked, "It's not just about where you fit but where you can grow.""Yes," Ariadne whispered under her breath, barely audible, "Let me grow."Finally, the Hat had come to its decision, "I know where you must go to find what you seek, to become who you need to be. Better be...""Slytherin!"The room seemed to exhale in relief or disappointment, depending on the listener, in which Ariadne, herself, felt a chill as the words sealed her fate. As she lifted the Hat from her head, her gaze met Professor Weasley's, who offered a small, somewhat sorrowful smile."Welcome to Slytherin, Ariadne. I trust you will make your own way, that is, by putting that inventiveness of yours to the right use," Headmaster Black voiced, smiling, a slight edge of challenge in his voice.As the echoes of the Hat's decision faded, Ariadne was left with a convoluted knot of emotions. She was relieved not to have outright defied her father's expectations yet felt constrained by the path laid out for her. But, still, within her, the resolve to forge her own destiny within the serpentine halls of Slytherin grew stronger."Thank you, sir... and you, Professor," Ariadne said, her voice stronger and imbued with a newfound determination, "I shall strive to honour Hogwarts with my actions."As she left the office, her mind was ablaze with plans and possibilities. The game was set, and she was ready to play—but on her terms, driven not just by ambition but by a desire for change.Perhaps, in time, she could reshape not just her destiny but, hopefully, the very nature of Slytherin itself.She knew it was farfetched....But not entirely impossible, either. 
  
  

    
      
        
        
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