Cinders and Magic (Harry Potter/Worst Witch Crossover)

Start of a New Tale

The smell of an old book—

There was nothing like it or being able to hold the object in her hands. Books also provided a place of escape and sanctuary starting with the "once upon a time." Many fairytales began with happy endings, which seemed out of grasp whenever her father was away on business, something many of the books that weren't fairytales also held for her as she got older.

Fairytales, though—

"This one!" came the sweet, childish voice of her younger sister, her half-sister Sybil. "Read me this one!"

Hermione looked up from her schoolwork, having braced herself for the appearance of her step-sister Ethel, her mouth twisting into a smile at one of the other bright lights in her life. "Which one is it this time?"

"Snow-White and Red-Rose," Sybil chimed in, hopping onto the edge of the bed looking like a little princess with her pale blond hair braided into a crown on top of her head, her green eyes like gems, and her slight smile and fingers ever so dainty. She walked like one, too, yet lacked the staunch heirs Ethel threw about.

"Ah. Not to be confused with Snow White," Hermione said, moving over to the bed, taking a break from her homework even if it meant—

"Ever wonder if fairytales were real?" Sybil said, opening the book up to the two sisters.

"That would be nice, I guess," Hermione said, reaching up to brush a strand of curly brown hair away from her face and her brown eyes, things that reminded her father of her mother, the woman he said he still loved even though he—

She read the book, hoping the session of reading to her youngest sister wouldn't be interrupted before the ending by someone coming and telling her about some chore they wanted her to do, which seemed more often than not.

Yet, she finished it right as the door to her room opened, and Ethel stuck her in. "As if you'd ever marry a prince and have a happily ever after. I mean, you're so homely."

"She is not!" Sybil protested, her small, delicate mouth forming a pout.

"You've not yet cleaned the sitting room today," Ethel said, putting her nose in the air and sniffing.

Hermione stiffened, her fingers tightening around the book, trying to think about whether she'd missed cleaning the sitting room where the Hallow members of the family, which included Sybil, would sit and drink tea like proper ladies, where Hermione only spent time relaxing there when her father was there.

"I needed it cleaned fifteen minutes ago as I'll be hosting young ladies of my own caliber, but you will be serving tea," Ethel said. "As usual."

"I'll tell Papa!" Sybil said, her tiny mouth twisting into a frown. "That you're being mean to Hermione! You and..."

"If you tell your papa, Sybil," Ethel said. "And he and mother get a divorce; you won't be able to see her or your papa."

Hermione bristled. "Hey."

Ethel batted her eyes, her silver-gray eyes giving the impression she was related to Hermione's father, Regulus. "Sorry. I misspoke. Sybil will not get to live with all her sisters immediately if they get a divorce."

Sybil's mouth pressed together, her small hands twisting into fists. Hermione turned to look at her. "Hey. It's alright."

"It's not," Sybil pouted. "Why do maman and Ethel need to be so mean, particularly when Esme is so nice."

Hermione's eyes blinked., but didn't verbally acknowledge that her other older sister tried to be excellent. Instead, Ethel acknowledged it by saying, "Good thing she's away at school most of the time." She placed a hand on her chest. "Which, I will be going to the same school next year, and Sybil the year after. That's why today is important: I'm forming connections with other girls who will be attending the school. A place you'll never end up."