Chapter Text
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. Mr. Vernon Dursley was a man of considerable bulk and a thick mustache, and he worked as a director at a drill firm. His wife, Mrs. Petunia Dursley on the other hand, was a thin woman with blonde hair, the image of a perfect housewife. Together, they had a little boy named Dudley, whom they loved very much.
So, imagine his surprise, when one day, he finds that everything around him is off kilter. People walking around with absurd outfits, owls flying around everywhere, and seemingly random showers of shooting stars.
Most alarming, however, were the whispers he heard about “Harry Potter”. He knew that Petunia had a sister who married a Potter, and that they had an infant son, but he tried to convince himself that this was all a coincidence.
All the way up until the next morning, where he found his wife with an infant who was decidedly not Dudley in her arms.
❆ –
Wriothesley had been a strange child since the day he stepped foot into the world. He never cried as a baby, and never sought out his parents for any reason. They had taken him to multiple different child psychologists, but could never figure out what was wrong.
He laughed and played easily enough. However, it was exceedingly obvious that he didn’t trust his parents for much of anything. He was mostly self-sufficient, and by the time that he was 7, he hardly asked for anything. For this reason, any and all accidental magic Wriothesley performed was unseen by them, due to the slight distance he kept from them.
He supposed it was for the best. How could Wriothesley explain such feats of magic to his parents, who, from what he could tell, were perfectly normal? There wasn’t a single hint that would indicate to him that magic existed, other than his own feats.
It was almost absurd how well he did in school, too. He loved tinkering with whatever scraps his father brought back from his work as a welder. His parents were relieved to see that he was just one of those quiet genius types, and his father in particular was happy to use his love of creating to bond with him.
His mother was a professor at a nearby university, and had indulged any and all curiosities Wriothesley had. Wriothesley supposed he was lucky, to have been born into a loving home, where his parents cared for and took care of him.
However, he could never shake off the memories of his past, which haunted his consciousness from the moment he opened his eyes for the first time in this world. He remembered everything, except how he could’ve possibly ended up here. He remembered that he was also named Wriothesley in his past life, and that he possessed a cryo vision, which he was extremely twitchy without.
He also remembered a few key people from his past life. Namely Sigewinne, Clorinde, Furina, Neuvillette, and most importantly, his past parents. So, it was completely reasonable in his opinion to be untrusting of these adults.
The second he opened his heart the last time around, he had it taken from his vulnerable body and shattered into a million pieces. He was not going to make the same mistake again.
It hadn’t taken him long to realize he was no longer in Teyvat. Nowhere in Teyvat had such advanced technology, and nobody had any idea what a vision was. He had taken it upon himself to learn as much as he could about this new world, so that he could quickly find a way back. However, it had been eleven years, and he had still yet to find a single lead anywhere.
How annoying it was, that nothing seemed to work the way he was used to. But one thing he could appreciate was how convenient everything was, from the cooking all the way down to the streetlights. He understood that the humans of this world had adapted using electricity and gas.
Perhaps he should bring some of these findings back to Teyvat, if he could ever figure out how to get back. He often found himself missing people from Teyvat, wishing that he could’ve at least spoken to them for the last time before he somehow ended up here. He missed Clorinde. He missed Sigewinne. He missed Neuvillette.
Neuvillette, Neuvillette, Neuvillette.
He found that the white haired being, for he was surely not a man, took up much of his dreams. He missed being in his presence, spending time together in the Palais Mermonia and having afternoon tea together after meetings, talking about anything and everything he wanted. Even in the past, he found himself overindulging in the Iudex’s company, and was always reluctant to leave.
It filled him with a sort of embarrassment, to think that he might miss someone so much that even his subconscious would be plagued by them. He sighed at the thought and sipped on some tea, while he completed school work. His teachers had found it proper for him to be given more advanced work.
It was mostly due to his knowledge in his past life that allowed him to digest his lessons so quickly. Though he had also worked pretty hard for this, in his humble opinion. He always wanted to know more, to have more at his disposal should the need for it arise.
Once he was satisfied with the completion of his school work, he went to the bathroom to clean off the ink staining his fingers, which seemed to be a permanent feature of his hands by now. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to ever scrub them off.
While in the bathroom, he took a second to stare at himself in the mirror. He looked remarkably similar to how he did in the past. He had fluffy, inky black hair without the gray streaks this time, and icy blue eyes, with pupils rimmed with gold. The only thing different this time around was that he no longer had any scars, and he was actually at a healthy weight.
All in all, everything about this new life of his seems pretty typical, and he was slowly starting to adapt to this new environment. So, naturally, as soon as he got somewhat comfortable here, everything had to just flip on its head again.
“Wriothesley! Come here please!”
Wriothesley perked up at his mother’s voice, and went down the stairs of his small home, passing by multiple pictures of him and his family on the way. He met his mother at the door, where she was conversing with a man who wore a purple turban.
He quietly sized up the man, standing directly at his mother’s side. The man looked nervous on the surface, but something about him felt… off. And Wriothesley wanted to know what it was.
“M-m-my name i-is Professor Q-Quirinus Q-Q-Quirrell,” the man gave a nervous, awkward laugh, “t-this is for y-you, young man…”
He handed Wriothesley a letter, addressed directly to him:
Mr. W. Wulfsige
The Second Bedroom
7 Saxifrage Way
Wolfs Maw,
Hampshire
Wriothesley took a second to admire just how much Fate seems to be taunting him. A wolf based surname, and a town with wolf in the name? How on the nose. Then, he opened the letter, his expression going blank as he read it.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
~
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Wulfsige,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
Wow. Just wow. He was completely at a loss for words. He was a wizard? The weird stuttering man in front of him was a wizard?
He looked up at Quirrell and his mother, wondering if this was some elaborate joke or something, but neither started laughing, and his mother looked quite confused, so he gave his letter to her. After she read it, she too was staring at Quirrell.
“I-I k-k-know it sounds b-bizarre, b-but it’s r-r-real. Y-You’re a w-wizard, and I-I’m here to t-t-take you to g-get your school supplies.”
Wriothesley was beginning to think that this was some weird kidnapping attempt. However, if this was real, it would explain the odd bouts of magic he could achieve… and the man seemed magic enough, he supposed, with that strange dark aura about him.
He looked at his mother to see her opinion, and saw she was reading a second paper that was in the envelope. It was passed to him, and he assumed those were his school supplies.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
~
UNIFORM
First year students will require:
- Three sets of plain work robes (black)
- One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
- One pair of protective gloves (dragonhide or similar)
- One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings
Please note that all pupils’ clothes should carry name tags
COURSE BOOKS
All students should bring one of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)
by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi
By Phyllida Spore
Magical Draughts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection
By Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
Wow. Again. That’s a lot of stuff, and Wriothesley doubted it’d come cheap. He was pretty sure his parents could afford it, but it still kind of hurt his soul. And he was supposed to go there today? Alone? With Quirrell?
And judging by the look on her face, his mother wasn’t exactly happy with it either, so he came up with a compromise on the spot. “Okay… but you’ll have to let my mom come too,” he held onto his mother’s hand, making it clear to Quirrell that he wasn’t going to let her go.
For a second, Wriothesley swore he saw a flash of what appeared to be disgust in Quirrell’s eyes, before the wizard finally conceded.
“O-Okay, let’s go. Y-You just n-need to hold o-o-onto m-my sleeve, a-and I’ll apparate us. I must warn you, t-this will b-be unpleasant.” Before Wriothesley could question what apparition was, he felt a strange sensation like being pushed through a tube, and when he got his bearings once more, he could see he was in the middle of a crowded pub.
He looked around, trying to figure out where Quirrell had taken him, before he stared, slack jawed, at a very, very familiar boy, who was staring right back at him with the exact same expression of complete and utter shock.
“Neuvillette?” / “Wriothesley?”
⛆ –
Neuvillette had known he didn’t belong ever since he was young. There was always some “otherness” to him, and everyone around him knew it. It was always that his facial features were a little too symmetrical, or that his teeth were a little too sharp, or that his voice was a little too echoey, or that the way he spoke was just wrong enough to unsettle those around him.
It was because of his draconic heritage, no doubt. However, nobody else was supposed to know. When he was old enough to understand, his parents warned him against ever showing or telling anyone about it, which he was planning on anyway.
He was told by his parents that they found him in the forest behind his house one day; and they took him in because they thought it was Lady Magic giving them a blessing. They had prayed day and night for a child, but alas, could not conceive one. So, obviously Lady Magic gifted him to them, an abandoned child of dragons.
To be honest, Neuvillette felt a little bad. He knew he wasn’t their blessing. He wasn’t of this world at all. He didn’t know where he was, but he remembered everything. He could still feel the thrum of his Authority in his veins, albeit confined in an even smaller body than it had been before.
But… somehow, it didn’t feel as stifled as it had been in Teyvat. Perhaps the absence of Focalors here gave him his power back? But he didn’t know if that was the right answer.
Speaking of which. He rather missed Focalors, or rather Furina, as surprised as he was to say it. The girl had at least made for some interesting company, when she wasn’t being obnoxiously annoying. Now, he had nobody to spend time with.
He missed the others, too. His daughters, Sigewinne, Clorinde, and especially Wriothesley. He had no doubt the snarky man would have something to say about Neuvillette’s sad moping.
His parents weren’t home half the time. Both of them were rather high profile French magical lawyers. Not to mention that they had moved to England when Neuvillette was around 9, too, so they were even more busy properly learning English law and building credit for themselves here. So, Neuvillette spent his time either lost in his own imagination or studying every legal codex he could find in the house.
He remembers he used to be a judge. It was the one purpose he could find in his long life, so he thought he should at least get familiar with it here, too. Maybe take some inspiration from these people for when he got back to Teyvat. Because he will be getting back. No matter what.
It couldn’t hurt to learn more about this world while he was here, though. He curled up in his room, his thin dragon tail tucked close to his body as he read a book. His parents weren’t shy about sharing wizarding life with him. They were both pureblooded French wix, and taught him all he needed to know about the etiquette and politics of this world, as well as spell theory.
Apparently it was also illegal for underage wix to cast spells, but his parents both smiled and told him not to worry about it, and even encouraged him to try to figure out how to cast the spells anyways, so he was assuming there was some absurd loophole made so that children from magical families would get an unfair advantage against children born to muggles.
And really, what a demeaning term to use for non-magicals “muggle” was.
Either way, the spell regulating the law on underage magic was extremely flawed, so Neuvillette was free to practice any spell he wanted to, with the downside of not having a wand to do so. It wasn’t too much of a problem if the spells had to do with water, though. In fact, he had gotten scarily good at his wandless and wordless Aguamentis, and could do it without second thought.
Although, part of him wondered if that was due to his draconic nature or if he just preferred that spell to the others, and unconsciously focused on it harder.
He tied his silvery white hair back with a black velvet ribbon, and focused on his book, his pale lavender eyes squinting as he read the passage. He was looking at a book on magical creatures, wondering if there were any dragons in the book that would look like him, but then he saw a three headed dog, and immediately thought of Wriothesley once again.
He had no idea why he was so fixated on the Duke. So many things reminded him of the dark haired man. The three headed dog reminded him of Wriothesley’s insignia, the one shaped by metal right behind his desk, which Neuvillette saw every time he went down to the Fortress of Meropide for a meeting.
Even when he had tea, he thought of Wriothesley and his endless disbelief that Neuvillette would dare prefer water of all things over all other drinks.
The family cat, Vedette, suddenly decided that she needed attention at once, and she butted her head against Neuvillette’s leg, making him sigh. She was already getting up there in age, but was still so energetic.
Clearly, he wouldn’t get any reading done if he was just going to be thinking of Wriothesley and having Vedette bother him the entire time, so he got up and went to the kitchen to find something to eat. He always swore to his parents that he could survive on pure water, but apparently that wasn’t healthy for a growing boy, so he made himself some buttered toast.
While he was eating, he went outside to collect the mail. There, he found an owl waiting for him, bearing an envelope with what he recognized as the Hogwarts crest on it. Ah.
He was told he should expect this, so he took it, and quietly thanked the owl, before taking a look at the envelope itself.
Mr. N. Beaumont
The Second Bedroom
9 Cardamine Ave
Lagenandra,
Hampshire
He looked at the letter curiously, and set it on the kitchen counter, choosing to not open it until his parents were home. Thankfully, it was his father’s day off today. He was just at the office looking over papers, but was bound to come home soon.
Right on cue, as if he had been summoned by the sheer force of Neuvillette’s thoughts, the Floo burned bright green, and his father appeared, walking out of the fireplace in nice looking robes.
“Welcome back, father. I got my Hogwarts letter just now.”
“Atta boy. I knew they wouldn’t be able to pass you down.” Neuvillette gave his father a faint smile, and the older man smiled back, coming over to look at the letter before ruffling his son’s hair, much to Neuvillette’s dismay.
“You know what, I’m free right now, let’s go get your supplies so your mother can rest properly when she’s back, okay?”
Neuvillette nodded up at his father, and hurried to his room to get changed. When he was done, he hurried back, and he took a handful of Floo powder, following his father’s lead in saying “the Leaky Cauldron”. The flames turned a bright green, and before he knew it, he was walking out into a pub.
He brushed imaginary dust off of his clothes, looking around for his father, when his now widening eyes met a familiar piercing, icy blue.
“Neuvillette?” / “Wriothesley?”