The next day came too quickly and at 4 in morning, the young witch was a bundle of nerves. She sat in the darkness of her room wringing her hands as she ran scenario after scenario through her head.
Hogwarts represented her past and her immediate future. It would be the battleground she would confront that past and hopefully come out stronger. Her real worries were her sisters. Pansy was two years younger than she was, and Holland was four years younger.
The last time they saw each other, Tiffany had been eagerly packing her bags when Pansy had stormed into the room.
"So you just get to leave?!" She screamed, her seven-year-old voice a high-pitched shrill. Tiffany remembered pausing and giving her sister a heartbroken look. She knows it's selfish, but she was running herself into a rut and she needed to be somewhere… that wasn't here.
"I'll be back Pans. This is only for my mental well-being—,"
"So you're crazy, then? Thought so. Seen you laughing and bleeding in the bathroom like a maniac." Pansy's words cut her. "What? Don't want people to know you tried to kill yourself."
"No— I wasn't trying—,"
"What? Can't handle that daddy dearest has a new favourite?" Tiffany had struck her before she could stop herself, then froze as Pansy looked at her with the deepest betrayal.
"You keep your dirty hands away from me. I'm glad you're leaving. I was sick of you moping around like you're the only one with problems." Pansy snarked, still cradling her reddening cheek as she turned to leave, not without shooting Tiffany a menacing glare.
Tiffany remembered crying again, sobbing into the folded sweatshirt she was about to pack. She had never touched her sister with more than a gentle pat on the back. Her remorse overwhelmed her, not allowing her to apologise or say goodbye to her little sister, who had been her tail since she was young.
Instead, she kept her face trained forward and was quiet even as she side-apparated away from the Manor and to the Williams Mansion hours later.
But she felt Pansy's words hit a critical chord that even now, almost seven years later, Tiffany still thought about it. Maybe she had overreacted, that she couldn't handle being second to a brother. Was she a demon for disliking a newborn child?
No. She never hurt him— would never hurt him. His innocence would not allow her to. It wasn't an issue that he could be faulted with. It lay with the systematic patriarchy that consumed their society. The fault was with her adult father. The fault was his father. And his father. An ongoing cycle of generational pressure and—…
A stray ray of sun flickered into her peripheral and had her sit up and gaze out. The sky was already a sunrise pink and she was quick to start her morning routine, thankful to have something more to do than just thinking.
An extensive stretch on the balcony, followed by a few minutes of meditation then a shower and dress. By breakfast, Tiffany had loosened all joints, freshly cleaned and their mind was clear of her fuzzy nighttime spiralling.
She wore a white silk shirt with lace inserts on the puffy sleeves and on the lapels. Layered over was a mid-thigh shift dress with her chest holster on top and a coat over that. She wore knitted white stockings and her maroon chunky heeled Mary Jane's with two hoops and two studs in each ear for jewellery.
The kitchen had that rare morning guest as she sauntered in.
Athena was leaning on the kitchen counter nursing a hot mug of tea, still in her sleepwear. Her head was covered with a silk scarf and her eyes were only half-awake as she gave her daughter a dreamy smile.
"Good Morning, Tiffany. As always, you are beautiful."
"Thank you, Mother. As you." Tiffany was serious. Her mother was a beauty not of this planet; ethereal and magnetising.
"Are you ready for the day? The interview is at 9 so you still have two more hours."
"I'm okay. It's not the interview I'm stressed about. Pansy…" Her mother looked at her with understanding.
"You cannot be held accountable for your actions as an ignorant child. If you sincerely apologise and she does not accept, then you cannot force her to. Move on, my dear."
Tiffany knew that her mother was right. In an ideal world, her sister would forgive her and they'd be closer than ever before. But reality has a way of making things bitter.
The mother-daughter duo enjoyed their slow breakfast and peaceful gossip, Athena talking about her plights with the British Ministry made Tiffany annoyed but amused.
Dippy eagerly reminded Tiffany of the time and she left to the floor room, kissing her mother's cheek before she went.
"For good luck!"
"Why would you give me your good luck you silly girl!" Her mother had called after her but she was already down the hall and in another part of the manor.
The floor room was like a basement. It was outside of the manor but still enclosed within the wards. There were three identical fireplaces that fit two grown men each. Guest would exit into a lobby or foyer area before the manor opened straight into the smaller ballroom.
Tiffany opened the leftmost fireplace that was reserved for her use and threw in some floo powder, reciting the address that Minerva McGonagall gave her with a confident command.
When she arrived, she waved her wand and in a quick and fluid motion, cleared herself of debris before greeting a stern-looking witch at her table.
"Good Morning, Madam McGonagall, I am Tiffany Williams." She gave her a warm smile, which the older witch reciprocated standing to give the young girl a firm handshake.
"Welcome Miss Williams. I will be escorting you to the Headmaster's office." She had a thick and proper Scottish accent, one that Tiffany didn't hear too often living in America and then on a remote island. It was very charming.
"Thank you kindly." Tiffany followed her out of the cosy office room and into a draft hallway.
The stone walls were lit by candlelight and filled with antique knight armours, unique tapestries and moving portraits. Tiffany was particularly fascinated by the tingling of magic that hummed against her own.
Hogwarts magic was gentle, like a soothing breeze wafting softly through your clothes on a windy day. It was a feeling similar to both Illvermorny's and Beauxbaton's sentient magic.
The pair stopped in front of a grandiose griffin perched on a podium and wings in almost full expansion. Tiffany felt a sentience from the statue and their eyes widened when Madam McGonagall spoke and it moved to reveal a stairway.
'Chocolate Cockroaches? Is that the password?'
The Headmaster's office had a grand door with a lion head as its knocker and made no noise as it swung open to reveal a large throne-like room, only no throne and more tomes. It smelt of ink, old books and burnt wood, a nostalgic and scholarly smell she was familiar with.
Two of the four walls were fixed with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, the other adjacent to the door was filled with moving portraits of past headmasters. What amused Tiffany was the curtain draped to the side and looked to cover the entire wall if need be.
She imagined those portraits looming over the headmaster with strict supervision as he finished all that needed to be done. In a fit of anger he'd 'swoosh' and slide the curtain across only for them to continue talking despite the darkness. She wondered if it was charmed for privacy, wondered what they did in their frames if they went to other frames, would like to be a portrait...
There was a large desk, tidy and minimal between two sets of stairs that led to a loft area, where more books could be seen.
The Headmaster stood next to his desk with a smile, his blue eyes gave her a warm feeling. He was a very tall and lithe elder, with an impressively long white beard and an equally as impressive head of white hair. He wore a lapis lazuli blue robe with a matching soft hat and gold-framed spectacles attached to the chain around his shoulders.
"Welcome Miss Williams, to Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witches. I am Headmaster Albus Dumbledore." He extended a graceful hand to the woman next to him, "This is Professor of Herbology and the Head of House Hufflepuff, Pomona Sprout,"
A yellow-robed witch with big, grey hair curled around her head and kind, brown eyes. She sent Tiffany a smile and a soft, 'Hello Dear', before the Headmaster Dumbledore continued.
"Professor of Charms and Head of House Ravenclaw, Filius Flitwick." A gentleman in a brown suit moved forward and gave a slight bow. His short stature did not deter Tiffany from being awestruck.
'It's him!' Tiffany gave him a small smile of recognition, to which the duelling champion acknowledged with a small wink.
"Professor of Potions and Head of House Slytherin, Severus Snape." The gentleman in all-black attire gave a neutral nod, that Tiffany reciprocated.
He felt a bit odd to her, but as the youngest potion master and genius, she figured he was entitled to being a bit odd.
Finally, Headmaster Dumbledore motioned to Tiffany's escort.
"And Professor of Transfiguration, Minerva McGonagall, who is also Head of House Gryffindor."
"Good Day, I am Tiffany Williams." She gave a small curtsy and a slight and polite bow of her head then Dumbledore clapped his hands.
"Let's get started, shall we?"
The Headmaster conjured four more seats at his desk and the professors took a seat. Tiffany slid into the armchair across the desk with what she hoped was poise, her hands clasped and resting on her knees in front of her as she gave an award-winning smile.
"I believe your test results are more than satisfactory to continue on to your OWLs without too much issue. I was very surprised that you had already taken many senior courses that unfortunately are not offered here. However, it has come to our understanding, that you will be hiring a private tutor and gaining masteries of your choice through the ICW."
"Yes. Blacksmithing and Forgery with Goblin Panzic, as well as Warding with Goblin Raglus. I have a tentative mentorship with Nicholas Flamel that isn't official yet."
"Goblin Panzic is a renowned blacksmith in the Goblin community. It is very inspiring that you have him teach you black-smithing." Professor Flitwick commented.
"Actually, he was my brother's mentor and friend. When he died, he left behind an unfinished weapon intended for my mother. I wished to honour him and finish what he started." Tiffany gave a grateful smile at the murmur of condolences.
"Still, he's a real piece of work. I'm only so strong as a female, and there's only so much magic that can enhance." The Charms Professor chuckled, not at all surprised by the Goblin's nature.
"The fact that he's kept you means you are worthy." The young witch felt a swelling of pride burst in her chest.
"Well, if anyone wants crooked swords that are a bit unreliable, let me know. My mother has resorted to selling them for a knut each to free some storage space."
"Well, it sounds like a wonderful line-up. I assume Nicholas has given up his usual charade…- You have a question?" Dumbledore paused.
"My mother and I figured that I could use this opportunity to offer a warding course to Hogwarts with Mentor Raglus," She paused before adding, "There are a few requirements that will need to be met but I believe you will pick reliable candidates and the course will be sponsored by the Willams family if you agree."
"What are these requirements?" Professor McGonagall questioned.
"Well, Warding is a senior elective that most schools do not offer. They'll need to have a good understanding of charms, arithmancy and runes. They'll also have to read the textbooks over at least once. It's a specialised text that is published by the Goblins that can be purchased at Gringotts and it's only theoretical. The practical side has to be drilled in by a teaching practitioner. They'll be taught Warding Level 1, 2 and 3 first then Level 4 classes will not start until after October 15th."
"Will it be reasonable to learn 3 levels in two months?" The professor looked both intrigued and worried.
"Levels 1-3 is an important part of warding that bleeds into the entire branch so it will always be referred back to and is almost impossible not to pick up if you're committed to learning. I trust my mentor will be as thorough as a senior course wizard. After all, he's the type of expert money cannot buy."
"Why after October 15th specifically?" Professor Sprout asked and Flitwick intervened, eager to move to this portion of the conversation.
"Miss Williams will be competing in the International Youth Duelling Competition held by the IDA. Your mentor, Sir Martin is adamant about your participation." Tiffany nodded in confirmation.
"The European qualifying rounds ended last month with 12 participants and 4 moving to the international stage. The competition will be held after the 1993 Duelling Convention in Brazil. I'll be focused on Level 4 Warding after the competition so as not to be overstimulated."
"You're extremely busy, Miss Williams. Will you be okay to take your OWLs?"
"I'm quite confident. Everything has already been scheduled with my mother's help. Even my leisure time is accounted for."
The staff were impressed by her proactivity. They hoped that seeing her working hard would encourage others to do the same. Minerva felt a headache when she imagined an earnest brown-haired Gryffindor competing with this competent witch. But, as her protege, she hoped that Hermione would benefit well from this.
Her repertoire was extensive. Basic Alchemy, Enchantments & Charms, Blacksmithing, Warding, Duelling, Wizard Chess Club, A Women's Society, A Research Group. Even her hobbies were listed. Pottery, Archery, Yoga, Ballet…
"It says here that you also took a healing course."
"Yes, that was a requirement my mother gave me when I started my extracurriculars. Injuries are a given and my recovery time depends on both my pre-activity and post-activity routines. A medical course helped me understand how to help my body effectively and efficiently."
"Will you not be taking that this year?"
"No, my allocated course slots are full." Tiffany opened an A4 binder to a timetable. It mapped all of her activities and time slots. There were blocks for study, leisure and eating.
"I allowed myself myself aside from OWL subjects, 2 subjects of choice, 2 passion projects and 2 extracurriculars. I'm reluctant to drop conditioning but I will if need be and have given myself the majority of Sunday afternoon to leisure. If I have too much free time, I get angsty."
"Conditioning? Like your hair…" Professor Sprout gave a curious guess and Tiffany could not help a small giggle.
"No, body conditioning is a requirement for ballet. Most skills need to be practised often in order to retain peak muscle memory. I only use it for exercise but it's a part of a ten-year routine that's been hard to break."
Slowly, she went over her routines and her daily affirmations, how she meditates and even her small ritual of gratitude before meals.
Albus listened in, intrigued by the young heiress of the Williams family, and the former heiress of the Parkinson family. The old wizard admits that he expected her to be… different. But was pleasantly surprised by her dedication to learning and as an educator, it tickled his fancy to help such a protege. His other staff members were interested in her as well.
The interview went for almost an hour longer before Tiffany was confident that they were all on the same page.
"And finally, we will do your House Sorting."