Chapter Text
July 19th, 1999
She woke up with a headache.
Evelyn pressed her palm against her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut against the dull throb that pulsed behind her temples. The dormitory was dark save for the thin sliver of moonlight that crept through the gap in the curtains, casting long shadows across the rows of identical iron beds. Somewhere down the hall, a baby was crying — there was always a baby crying at St. Helios.
She pulled the scratchy wool blanket up to her chin and turned onto her side, willing herself back to sleep. If she could just fall asleep, maybe she could forget about the headache. Forget about the orphanage. Forget about—
The door creaked open.
Evelyn’s eyes snapped open, her body going rigid. But then she caught sight of the familiar silhouette sneaking through the doorway, and she relaxed slightly.
“Lighter,” she hissed. “What are you doing?”
The ten-year-old boy crept across the room with exaggerated stealth, nearly tripping over someone’s discarded shoe before finally reaching Evelyn’s bed. His dark green hair stuck up at odd angles, and his green eyes gleamed with mischief in the darkness.
“Can’t sleep,” he whispered, crouching down beside her bed. “And I had the best idea.”
Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “Your ideas usually get us in trouble.”
“This one won’t. Probably.” Lighter grinned. “The candy shop down on Marsh Street — it’s open late on Fridays. We could sneak out, grab some sweets, be back before anyone even notices we were gone.”
“It’s almost ten at night.”
“Exactly. The matrons are about to start their rounds, which means they’ll all be busy on the upper floors for at least twenty minutes. We’d have plenty of time.”
Evelyn stared at him. She should say no. She should tell him to go back to his own dormitory before someone caught him in the girls’ section. She should remind him that the last time they’d snuck out, they’d both lost dessert privileges for a week.
But the thought of staying in this place, in this bed, with this headache and the sound of that crying baby echoing through the halls…
“Fine,” she whispered, throwing off her blanket. “But if we get caught—”
“We won’t get caught.” Lighter was already standing, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “I promise.”
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They almost got caught twice.
The first time was when they were creeping down the main staircase, and Matron Gilles emerged from the kitchen unexpectedly. Evelyn and Lighter had pressed themselves into the narrow space behind the grandfather clock, barely breathing as her footsteps passed within inches of their hiding spot.
The second time was when they were slipping out the back door, and they heard Matron Benedict’s voice calling out from somewhere upstairs. They both froze, Lighter’s hand on the doorknob, Evelyn’s heart hammering in her chest. But the voice had faded, and Lighter had pulled the door open just wide enough for them to squeeze through. Which wasn’t very hard as they were both lanky children — St.Helios wasn’t too keen on nutritious food.
Now they were outside, and it was raining.
Of course it was raining.
“Could be worse,” Lighter said cheerfully, pulling up the collar of his grey uniform jacket. The St. Helios crest — a rather pompous-looking swan — was embroidered on the breast pocket, marking them clearly as orphanage children. Evelyn hated that crest. Hated how people’s eyes would linger on it when they passed on the street, their expressions shifting from curiosity to pity.
“How could it be worse?” Evelyn asked, pulling her own jacket tighter around herself as rain soaked through the fabric.
“Could be hailing.”
Despite herself, Evelyn felt the corner of her mouth twitch upward. Just a little.
They made their way down the quiet streets, sticking to the shadows out of habit. The orphanage wasn’t far from the main shopping district, and even at this hour, a few shops still had their lights on. The candy shop — a small, cheerful place called Sweet Dreams — was tucked between a butcher’s shop and a laundromat.
“Back entrance,” Lighter whispered, jerking his head toward the narrow alley that ran alongside the building.
Evelyn followed him, her shoes squelching in the puddles that had formed between the cobblestones. The back door was locked, but Lighter had apparently thought ahead — he produced a thin piece of wire from his pocket and worked it into the lock with practiced ease.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Evelyn whispered.
“Tommy showed me last year before he got adopted.” Lighter’s tongue stuck out slightly as he concentrated. “He said it was an important life skill.”
There was a soft click, and the door swung open.
The inside of Sweet Dreams smelled like sugar and chocolate and something else Evelyn couldn’t quite name — something warm and comforting. Lighter pulled a small torch from his pocket and flicked it on, the beam of light sweeping across shelves packed with jars of colorful sweets.
“Jackpot,” he breathed.
They worked quickly, grabbing handfuls of lemon drops and chocolate and jellybeans, stuffing them into their pockets. Lighter found a package of liquorice sticks and tore it open immediately, offering one to Evelyn.
She took it, biting off the end as they settled onto the floor behind the counter, their backs against the wall.
“Do you ever think about what it would be like?” Lighter asked after a moment, chewing thoughtfully on his liquorice stick. “To have a family, I mean. A real one.”
Evelyn was quiet for a moment. “Sometimes.”
“I think about it all the time.” Lighter pulled his knees up to his chest. “I imagine they’d be nice. And they’d have a big house with a garden, and there’d be a dog. I’ve always wanted a dog.”
“Dogs are loud.”
“Yeah, but in a good way. Not like…” He trailed off, but Evelyn knew what he meant. Not like the constant noise of the orphanage — the crying, the shouting, the heavy footfalls of the matrons.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, eating their stolen sweets and listening to the rain drum against the windows.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Lighter said eventually. “I know you didn’t really want to.”
Evelyn glanced at him. Even in the dim light of the torch, she could see the genuine gratitude in his expression. Lighter had always been like this — grateful for the smallest things, finding joy where there was none. He’d been at St. Helios for as long as Evelyn could remember, and somewhere along the way, he’d become the closest thing to a brother she had.
“It’s fine,” she said quietly. “The liquorice sticks are good.”
Lighter’s grin was bright enough to rival the torch beam.
They made it back to the orphanage without incident, slipping through the back door and creeping up the stairs with the practiced stealth of seasoned criminals. Lighter squeezed Evelyn’s shoulder once before disappearing down the corridor toward the boys’ dormitory, and Evelyn continued on to her own room.
She changed out of her damp uniform, hung it carefully over the back of her chair to dry, and climbed back into bed. The headache was gone now, replaced by a pleasant fullness from too many sweets and a strange warmth in her chest that she didn’t quite know how to name.
She fell asleep thinking about dogs and gardens and families that didn’t exist.
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Evelyn woke up to the sound of footsteps at the end of the long hallway.
It wasn’t an unusual sound — there were always footsteps at St. Helios, always someone walking somewhere. But these footsteps were different. Purposeful. Heading directly toward the girls’ dormitory.
Evelyn sat up slowly, her heart beginning to race. Around her, the other girls were stirring, rubbing sleep from their eyes and whispering to each other. The morning light streamed through the windows, illuminating dust motes that danced in the air.
The door opened, and Matron Benedict stepped inside.
She was a thin, severe woman with grey hair pulled back into a tight bun and lips that seemed permanently pressed into a disapproving line. Her eyes swept across the room before landing on Evelyn.
“Miss Chevalier,” she said crisply. “You’re needed downstairs. Immediately.”
Evelyn’s stomach dropped. They knew. Somehow, they knew about last night. She glanced toward the doorway and her heart sank further — Lighter was standing just behind Matron Benedict, looking pale and nervous. His eyes met Evelyn’s, and he gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shrug.
How did they find out? Evelyn’s mind raced as she climbed out of bed and pulled on her uniform. Did someone see us? Did the shop owner notice the missing candy?
She followed Matron Benedict out into the hallway, Lighter falling into step beside her. The matron’s shoes clicked sharply against the wooden floors as they descended the main staircase.
“Am I in trouble?” Evelyn asked quietly.
Matron Benedict didn’t turn around. “That remains to be seen.”
They reached the ground floor, and Evelyn noticed Nicole Demara standing near the entrance to the sitting room. The pink-haired girl looked just as confused as Evelyn felt, her green eyes wide with uncertainty. Nicole was quiet, even quieter than Evelyn, and kept mostly to herself. Evelyn couldn’t remember ever having a full conversation with her.
“Inside,” Matron Benedict said, gesturing to the sitting room. “All three of you. Now.”
As Evelyn stepped through the doorway, she stopped short.
A woman was standing by the window, her back to them. She wore an emerald cloak that seemed far too elegant for St. Helios, and her hair was pulled back beneath a pointed hat. When she turned around, Evelyn caught sight of round spectacles perched on her nose and eyes that were sharp but not unkind.
“Ah,” the woman said, her Scottish accent crisp and clear. “Thank you, Matron Benedict. I’ll take it from here.”
Matron Benedict’s lips thinned further, if that was even possible. “Before you begin, Professor, I feel I should inform you about Miss Chevalier.” She gestured toward Evelyn with a dismissive wave. “She’s rather… troubled. Very quiet, keeps to herself. Gets into fights on occasion. I’m not sure she’s quite the type for your school.”
Evelyn felt heat rise to her cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and anger. She wanted to protest, to point out that she only got into fights when the older kids picked on the younger ones, that being quiet wasn’t the same as being troubled. But she kept her mouth shut, her hands curling into fists at her sides.
The woman in the emerald cloak raised an eyebrow. “I see. Thank you for your input, Matron Benedict. That will be all.”
It wasn’t a request. Matron Benedict’s mouth opened as if to argue, then closed again. She gave a stiff nod and left the room, closing the door behind her with more force than necessary.
The woman turned her attention to the three children standing before her. “Please, sit down.”
They sat on the worn sofa, Evelyn in the middle with Lighter on one side and Nicole on the other. The woman settled into the armchair across from them, smoothing her robes.
“I imagine you’re all quite confused,” she said. “And perhaps a bit nervous. I assure you, you’re not in any trouble. My name is Minerva McGonagall, and I am the Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
There was a long silence.
“Witchcraft and…” Lighter trailed off, his eyes widening. “Wait. Witchcraft? Like, magic?”
“Precisely.” Headmistress McGonagall reached into her robes and pulled out three envelopes, each sealed with a wax crest that Evelyn didn’t recognize. “The three of you are magical. Witches and a wizard. And you have been accepted to attend Hogwarts, where you will learn to harness and control your abilities.”
Evelyn stared at the woman. This had to be some kind of joke. Magic wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.
But Headmistress McGonagall didn’t look like she was joking.
“I don’t understand,” Nicole whispered, speaking for the first time. “We’re… we’re magical?”
“You are indeed. I suspect you’ve all experienced unusual occurrences throughout your lives — things you couldn’t quite explain. Objects moving on their own, perhaps. Or things happening when you were particularly emotional.”
Evelyn thought of the time when she was seven, when Matron Gilles had been particularly cruel and all the windows in the dining hall had suddenly shattered. She’d been blamed for it, of course, though no one could figure out how she’d managed it.
She thought of the time Lighter had fallen from a tree and should have broken his arm, but had somehow landed without a scratch.
She thought of Nicole, who always seemed to know when it was going to rain, even when the sky was clear.
“This is mental,” Lighter breathed, but he was grinning now. “This is absolutely mental. We’re magical!”
Headmistress McGonagall’s lips twitched into what might have been a smile. “Indeed. Now, I’d like to speak with each of you individually to discuss the details of your enrollment and to answer any questions you might have. But first, I’d like you to read your acceptance letters.”
She stood and distributed the envelopes, placing one in each of their hands. Evelyn turned hers over, running her fingers across the wax seal — a coat of arms featuring a lion, a serpent, a badger, and an eagle surrounding the letter ‘H.’
She broke the seal and pulled out the letter inside.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall
Dear Miss Evelyn A. Chevalier,
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 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress
Evelyn A. Chevalier.
She stared at her name on the parchment. The ‘A’ stood for something — she’d been told that once, years ago, but she couldn’t remember what. Looking at the letter now, at the official seal and the careful script, something stirred in her chest. A strange, unfamiliar feeling that took her a moment to identify.
Hope.
Maybe this was it. Maybe this was her chance to leave St. Helios behind. To be someone other than the quiet, troubled orphan girl that no one wanted.
“Now then,” Headmistress McGonagall said, pulling Evelyn from her thoughts. “Mr. Lorenz, Miss Demara, if you wouldn’t mind waiting in the hallway for a few moments, I’d like to speak with Miss Chevalier first.”
Lighter glanced at Evelyn, concern flickering across his face, but Evelyn gave him a small nod. He squeezed her hand once before standing and following Nicole out of the room.
When the door closed behind them, Headmistress McGonagall settled back into her chair and studied Evelyn with those sharp eyes.
“Miss Chevalier,” she said gently. “How much do you know about your parents?”
Evelyn shifted uncomfortably. “Nothing, really. I’ve been here since I was a baby. The matrons said I was left on the doorstep with just a note that had my name on it.”
“I see.” Headmistress McGonagall was quiet for a moment. “The truth is, we don’t know exactly how your parents passed. However, we do know that they attended Hogwarts. They were both magical, and both originally from France. Your father originally attended the Beaubaxtons before transferring in his fourth year.”
France. Evelyn had never thought much about where she came from — it had always seemed pointless to wonder about parents who had abandoned her. But now…
And the Beaubaxtons. Evelyn had never heard of it but then again, up until about ten minutes ago, she’d never heard of Hogwarts either. She assumed it must have been another wizarding school.
“Were they… were they good people?” The question slipped out before she could stop it.
Headmistress McGonagall’s expression softened. “Yes, they were. Your mother was in Ravenclaw, and your father was in Slytherin. He was also Slytherin’s seeker, up until his injury in his sixth year. Both of your parents were quite accomplished in Transfiguration.”
“Why did they leave me?” Evelyn’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“I cannot answer that, dear girl. I wish I could.” Headmistress McGonagall leaned forward slightly. “But what I can tell you is this: you are not defined by what they did or did not do. You are your own person, with your own magic, and your own future ahead of you. Hogwarts will give you the opportunity to discover who that person is.”
Evelyn looked down at the letter in her hands, her fingers trembling slightly.
“Will I…” She swallowed hard. “Will I have to come back here? To St. Helios?”
“You’ll return during the summer holidays, yes. However, arrangements can be made if circumstances become… difficult.” Headmistress McGonagall’s tone suggested she understood exactly how difficult circumstances at St. Helios could be. “And of course, once you come of age, you’ll be free to make your own arrangements.”
A weight Evelyn hadn’t realized she’d been carrying seemed to lift slightly from her chest.
“Now then,” Headmistress McGonagall said, standing. “We have much to discuss regarding your school supplies and transportation to Hogwarts. But first, I believe Mr. Lorenz and Miss Demara are waiting rather anxiously in the hallway. Shall we let them back in?”
Evelyn nodded, clutching her acceptance letter like a lifeline.
As Professor McGonagall opened the door and called the other two back inside, Evelyn allowed herself something she rarely did.
She smiled.