Child of the Earth

Chapter 1

Blood and Earth. Those are the two things that have the strongest effect on magical power. Because of them, Americans have a tendency to be the weakest, magically speaking. Their blood is mixed and the earth that they cherish rejects it, though not as harshly as some other lands would. The Egyptians, the Indians, the Japanese, the Chinese, and the Native Americans have the strongest blood and the closest connection with the earth. They are the most powerful nations, magically, though the three most powerful wizards in the world at the moment are British.

"Mom, do I have to go to Hogwarts?"

That would be me. As you can tell, I wasn't interested in changing schools at all.

"Mikaia, Hogwarts is the safest place for you to be with You-Know-Who rising again. And as for the land, you have British blood. You should have no problem with being accepted, magically."

Yep, that's my mother. Obsessed with the causes of magical power. What she fails to mention is that along with my British blood, I carry the blood of just about every other race on the Earth. I fit best, socially, in the US, where I was born and raised. I mean, I don't exactly look British--or anything else, of that matter. My features are something of a mix of the five most powerful peoples. I look, at first glance, Indian, though my skin tone is more that of the Native Americans, my hair is obviously Oriental, and my nose and face shape are clearly Egyptian. The Anglo-Saxon features have all but disappeared. It sounds like it would look odd, but the strange mix of features works together well for me. A slender form, a pretty face, long black hair--it may be strangely exotic, but you can't say that it doesn't look good.

"You-Know-Who is centering his attack on Britain! Besides, I don't want to go!"

What can I say? I was sixteen. I was the top of my class at Salem Institute because my mother had started teaching me magic before my earliest memory. I wasn't at all interested in having to compete with a completely new group of students, especially since most, if not all, of them would most likely be more powerful than me.

My mother gave me a Look. "Mikaia, you will go to Hogwarts, and I don't want to hear another word about it! Now, go up to your room and finish packing. Professor Dumbledore is sending a professor to retrieve you in the morning."

Grumbling under my breath, I stomped up to my room and began throwing things in my trunk.

"What's wrong, Mikaia?" Meet my mirror and best friend, Kagami.

"Hogwarts. I like going to Salem!"

"Mikaia. We're going to Britain. Hot guys. Great accents. And--"

"I get the picture. Not interested. Salem is as much as I need."

"You don't have a choice in the matter, so you might as well at least be resigned to the idea. Though I don't think it will be that bad. Shouldn't Harry Potter be about your age, now?"

"I suppose . . . " I said doubtfully. "I don't see what you're getting at."

"He's British, Mikaia. He's at Hogwarts. Or have you not paid any attention to those papers you read me?"

I grinned. "I suppose it might not be that bad . . . "

"That's the spirit. Now finish packing so we can leave in the morning."

I laughed and finished packing, more neatly now, and slipped into bed, putting Kagami on top of my trunk. It would be a long trip tomorrow, and I'd want someone to talk to.

The person that Professor Dumbledore had sent to retrieve me arrived at the end of breakfast. He was fairly tall, I suppose--I'm rather short--with greasy black hair, unpleasant black eyes, a huge hooked nose, and a very pallid complexion. In the first few minutes after he arrived it became obvious that he didn't like traveling, he didn't like Americans, he didn't like mixed blood either ethnically or magically, and I was willing to bet that he didn't like children or teaching, either.

My mother was the one to answer the door. She had very nearly taken a step backwards when she saw him, but smiled politely and invited him in. I was just finishing my breakfast.

"It will be a moment, Professor. As you can see, Mikaia isn't done eating yet."

The Professor gave me a scornful glance. "I'll wait. Professor Dumbledore is very interested in our first American student reaching Hogwarts safely." The disdain in his voice was absolutely charming. Seriously.

My mother's lips thinned briefly. Fortunately for him, she's one of the most polite people I know. Only her good manners--and the fact that he was my only way to get to Hogwarts--kept her from throwing him out. And I'd always thought that the French were the rude ones. Then again, I've never met anyone from France. My mother was stiffly polite when she spoke again.

"Would you like some coffee, Professor . . . "

"Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House." Not to mention total jerk and pain in the neck. "You're forgetting the time zone change. I had my morning tea before I left London." I was starting to really not like this guy. My mother sniffed, going back to her coffee.

I finished my breakfast quickly and hurried upstairs to grab my trunk and Kagami. I picked up Kagami and tapped her gently with my wand, causing her to shrink from an elegant silver filigree hand mirror into a pretty silver compact, which I tucked into the pocket of my denim jacket. I tapped my trunk as well, and it shrunk into a backpack. I love American-enchanted items. They're always made for convenience, which we seem to care more about--and will spend more money on--than any other country. Not that Kagami was strictly American. The mirror was European make, and the enchantment was Japanese. Only the transfiguration was American. Still, it was Americans who made it so that I could carry her with me so easily.

When I picked up my screech owl, Nisha Aderyn, in her cage and went back down to the kitchen, I looked like any other American teen. I was wearing low-rise flare jeans, a tee shirt, my denim jacket, and a pair of white flip-flops, a denim backpack slung over one shoulder. Snape's eyebrow shot up at the sight of my shirt, and I grinned. I'd bought it from my favorite Muggle catalogue, Dancing Dragon. The shirt was white and read "Do not meddle in the affairs of Dragons, for you are Crunchy and good with Ketchup." Under the message was a little green dragon breathing fire. Gotta love the reaction you get from witches and wizards faced with the Muggle conception of dragons.

"Okay, I'm ready to go."

"Don't you have anything better to do than talk to that mirror?" Snape snapped irritably.

We had boarded the local Knight Bus, gone to a Muggle airport, and were currently over the Atlantic Ocean. It had been about four hours so far, between travel time and the wait at the airport, and I had been talking to Kagami most of the time.

"No, actually. We're in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and you have already proven to be exhaustively unpleasant. Besides, you're going to be one of my teachers. If there's one thing I don't need, it's being labeled a Teacher's Pet."

"You won't have any problem with that, Miss Ashley." I turned back to Kagami to continue our conversation, and Snape sighed. "This is as good a time as any to inform you of what will happen when we arrive in London."

I snapped Kagami shut and tucked her back in my pocket. "I'm all ears."

"When we land, we will get on the British Knight Bus. It will take us to the Burrow."

"Huh? What's the Burrow?"

Snape's lips thinned, which was interesting, as they were already very thin. "It is the Weasleys' home. One batch of them, anyway. They have kindly agreed to take you for the rest of the summer, and you are also invited to their home for the Christmas and Easter holidays. There are seven children in this particular family, but only four of them are still living at home, though the other two may visit. They do, on occasion."

"How are they divided up, and how old are they?"

Snape was obviously annoyed, but answered my questions anyway. "Six boys and one girl. The girl is the youngest, and will be a year below you. The youngest boy is in your year, and the twins . . . left Hogwarts . . . last year. The others are twenty, twenty-four, and twenty-six. As I was saying, you will be staying with the Weasleys. They have two other guests, the youngest boy's best friends. You are expected to be polite while at the Burrow. They will take you to Diagon Alley, where you will be fitted for your uniform and pick up anything that you did not bring from the States."

I rolled my eyes. "I know that I'm expected to be polite while I'm a guest in someone else's home, and I really hope you're not going to lecture me about protocol for visiting a foreign country." He had made it evident that he apparently didn't know how to be polite when he'd picked me up, but I didn't say that. I'm not stupid. "I already got the whole 'you're representing your school and your country' lecture from my old principal."

"I wasn't going to."

We sat in silence for a moment, then I pulled out Kagami and resumed my conversation with her. I heard Snape groan faintly as I did, and I smirked slightly. Just because we had to take a Muggle plane didn't mean that it had to be a long trip for me, especially since a Muggle that saw me talking to Kagami would think I was having a cell phone conversation.

It was mid-afternoon by the time we finally arrived at the Burrow. Snape strode crisply up to the door, his black robes billowing out behind him, and rapped sharply on the door. Someone inside shouted that they'd get it, and the sound of someone hurrying to the door followed the statement. A boy about my age with brilliant red hair opened the door, saw Snape, and grimaced.

"It's Professor Snape, Mum!"

"OH!" came a woman's voice from inside. "Does he have the American student with him?"

The boy looked around Snape and saw me standing behind him. "She's with him!"

I smiled at him as a plump woman with the same brilliant hair came to the door. "Hello, Severus. I'm so glad you could fetch her, there was no way we could spare the time."

"My pleasure," he said tensely. "I'll leave her in your able care." He turned to me, handed me an envelope containing my course list and the required books and supplies, and swept off, going to the end of the road before Disapparating.

I stood fidgeting slightly about being left with total strangers and the woman smiled at me. "I'm Molly Weasley, dear. Come on in."

I smiled a little nervously. "I'm Mikaia Ashley," I told her as I followed her into the house.

"Welcome to the Burrow, Mikaia. You didn't bring much with you."

"It's a lot more then it looks. The bag is really my trunk. It's really handy, it folding up into a backpack."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Yes, that's quite convenient. Let's get you introduced to everyone."

The boy who had opened the door was still in the kitchen. "I'm Ron."

I grinned at him. "Pleased to meet cha'."

Another red haired boy came into the kitchen. "Ron, have you seen Harry?"

"No."

The boy saw me. "Is that her, Mum?"

"Yes, dear, it is. Mikaia Ashley."

"Oi, George, she's here!" He turned to me. "I'm Fred."

An identical boy came into the kitchen. "Where is she, Fred?"

"Right in front of you, you bloody idiot!"

"Fred!"

"Sorry, Mum." He didn't sound sorry at all.

"I'm George."

"I am not going to be able to tell you two apart. Mikaia."

"Ron, have you seen Harry?"

A pair of girls entered now, one with red hair and the other with bushy brown hair. The one who had spoken was the brunette.

"Who's this Harry everyone's looking for?" I asked.

"Ooo, she's here!" That was the redhead.

I smirked. Attention is great, even if it is just because I'm new and unusual. "I'm Mikaia."

"Ginny," the redhead said.

"I'm Hermione Granger."

"'Kay. Got that. Anyone besides this Harry person missing?"

"Dad's at work, Percy lives in London, and Bill is in Diagon Alley. Then there's Charlie--he lives out of the country, now. In Romania."

I blinked. "Oh."

Just then a soaked boy came in. He had messy black hair, which was plastered down over his forehead and brilliantly green eyes behind round glasses. He was small, if several inches taller than me, and was carrying a Firebolt and wearing his school robes, which were dripping.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "What happened, mate?"

"I fell in the pond. I was flying and got distracted in a dive."

I giggled, and Harry noticed me. "I suppose you're the American student that's staying with the Weasleys."

I nodded, still grinning. "I'm Mikaia Ashley," I told him, offering him my hand.

He took it and shook it firmly, if briefly. "Harry Potter," he said, then left to change into something dryer.

I stood there for a moment in shocked silence, staring after him, then shifted my gaze down to my hand.

"Oh. My. Gosh. Harry Potter just shook my hand!" I squealed.

"Um . . . yeah. So?"

Life with the Weasleys was overwhelming to say the least. Before it had always been Mom and me in a quiet, well-ordered little house in Massachusetts. Here there was chaos everywhere you looked.

I was staying in Ginny's room with Ginny and Hermione. With two cots in the room along with the bed, it was fairly crowded, especially with the necessity that Hermione's trunk be accessible. Mine, thankfully, could be kept as a backpack the whole time I was here--only major packing and unpacking required it to be in trunk form, and that was mainly for convinence. That room would be the most ordered thing I saw for the next month.

The house itself was chaotic. It was patched together, like little pieces had been haphazardly added at various times, and I doubted that it would stand if it was a Muggle house. There was a ghoul in the attic that liked to moan and bang pipes. There were gnomes in the garden. With the visiting familiars, there were five owls and a cat in the house, and a big black dog showed up occasionally. Harry was usually the one I saw with it, so it might have been his.

Meals were even more chaotic, especially dinner, when Mr. Weasley was also present and everyone was awake. I never did quite figure out how I wound up with any food at all on my plate, and I always finished as quickly as possible and made my escape from the table.

Bill and Charlie came to visit shortly after I arrived, and they were every bit as loud as the rest of the family. Charlie worked with dragons, and Bill was a Gringotts Curse Breaker in Egypt usually, though currently he was doing deskwork in London for some unknown reason. He was apparently currently arguing with his mother about his girlfriend, a French girl who was apparently a quarter Veela. His visit didn't last long, but Charlie was there for about a week.

After I had been there for about a week and a half we made our trip to Diagon Alley. I picked up the course books that didn't overlap with the ones I'd used at Salem, was fitted for my robes, and picked up the other few items I needed for school.

After I had everything, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went off to their favorite Diagon Alley haunt, and I had nothing to do but follow. It was an ice cream parlor, and the owner gave us all free ice creams, talking amiably with Harry as the rest of us enjoyed the treats. Eventually Mrs. Weasley came to get us, and we all went back to the Burrow.

Kagami found my reaction to the chaos amusing. I would talk to her in the morning while I was getting dressed and at night right before I went to bed, but most of the rest of the time something in the chaotic house was holding my attention. She was used to me not having much time from the workload at Salem, and so had gone to her old standby--talking to the other mirrors.

"They're rather quiet, actually," she told me one night. "They're rarely spoken to, and only speak to give an occasional comment. It's the usual case for mirrors in most places. But I think I like the quiet. You look like someone let you off the bus at the wrong stop and you don't know what to do about it. Can't you find anything ordered in the house?"

I shrugged, yawning as I closed my eyes. "Maybe. Don't know what, but maybe."

After the second week I started getting used to the chaos--somewhat. I would go and climb up one of the several apple trees that surrounded the grassy plot where the boys played Quidditch, sometimes with Kagami and sometimes alone. The time alone--or talking to Kagami or watching the boys play Quidditch--did wonders for my nerves, and Kagami soon commented that I looked less like I'd been let off at the wrong stop--just like a startled deer.