#cobert x hp crossover

[neverendingsourceofmystery]

Bamboozled | Cobert AU

Here is the Harry Potter and Cobert crossover that no one asked for. Originally an entry for the #Cobertweek2017 Day 1: Magic, now just a stupid one shot.

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She doesn’t really have much in the way of expectations, and she supposes that it’s just right. Sure she has hopes - those that have stubborn;y planted themselves inside her heart and blossomed inside her chest, despite her efforts to squash them - but she doesn’t really have any expectations. At least not for change, never for change. 

From where she stands, there isn’t much that’s changed, neither is there anything new at all, and that doesn’t even come to her as a surprise. She has come to accept it, expect it even, had known it from the very start, long before she had boarded the ship that brought her to London, an ocean and a few thousand miles away from home.

The looks still get to her, because she knows they are still looking. The whispers and the murmurs still make her conscious, because they still whisper.

Different country, same problems.

She knows she is different though, knows as much and that he difference applies to both the world she’s always known and the world she has recently come to know. She’s neither special nor normal, and therein lies the difficulty. She’s half included in both worlds, and she knows that, knows she doesn’t belong here, and not there either.

Did her parents listen to her though? Of course not. Did they believe her when she’s said to them that a continent apart would not change the way that people like her are viewed? Definitely not. It certainly hadn’t for the ones before her, but did they listen? Did they hear her when she said she doesn’t belong here?

And although she’s hoped, oh how she has hoped, she’d always  known that no, she does not. 

Her parents had not considered what she had to say, had not even bothered to ask and had decided on her behalf instead. They had the money to make it happen, too, although she doesn’t think there’s much need for it. Things have been done and some rules have been bent to accommodate her parents’ request. 

All her feelings had been set aside and ignored.

She breathes out a sigh as she looks up at the ceiling - that of which mimics the sky outside. It is dark and cloudy, no stars peppering the black sky and it seems like it will be raining some time soon. She knows it rains a lot here, she’s been properly briefed about the weather before she’d even left home.

She turns her attention from the ceiling to the doors. The students are now starting to gill the great hall, and there are hundreds of them, all in black robes, all chattering lively and excitedly. The buzz of many different conversations fill the din, and the staff are coming in with the students and are trying their best to bring back the peace and order. The ghosts, the likes of which are not new, but are entirely unfamiliar to her, are of no help as they float above freely, roaming as they welcome students, adding more to the noise.

She feels part indignation fill her as the first years start to file inside the hall. She really shouldn’t, she tells herself, and she knows it too. It’s hard not to be bitter though when she knows that they are all in the same position. All of their faces shine in equal parts excitement and fear, and she tries very hard to bite down at the dread she feels.

She should have been with them, she thinks, should have been delivered the same way they had been. The headmaster, bless him, thought it appropriate to let her come to the great hall with the little bit of dignity she could afford. He had insisted that she rode to the cancel the same way higher levels do. She is glad for the attempt to minimize the embarrassment, although she knows it to be futile.

It doesn’t matter really, she thinks as the Professor (Professor Mcgonagall, she remembers distinctly) starts to get the first year to line up. The professor had been the same one she’d had a conversation with in the Leaky Cauldron. She also knows the Head Master, Professor Dumbledore - she’d been introduced upon her arrival here.

Professor Mcgonagall had been pleasant enough, asking her what she’s learned so far and reassuring her that she will be able to catch up quickly, as the professor and her parents had discussed the terms of her transfer. It had contained a fair bit of confidential information and several cases of name calling and bullying to move schools for being who she is - a witch born from non magical parents.

“Levinson, Cora,” Mcgonnagall calls out her name and she looks up at the professor to find her holding up the hat they used to determine the house where a student belongs to. They don’t have such a hat in Ilvermorny, but they had other ways to sort out the students in the four houses: Wampus, Horned Serpent, Puckwudgie, and Thunderbird. 

She had been a part of the Horned Serpent herself, before she’d transferred here at Hogwarts. She doesn’t have a clue where she will be placed here, although she does know the four houses (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin). She isn’t sure what qualities best suit each house, but she does know one thing: she does not belong to Slytherin.

Come to think of it, she barely even belongs here.

“Ravenclaw,” the slightly battered hat yells to the crowd, and it is only then that Cora realizes how quiet it’s become since she has taken the stool.

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