A/N: I've had this idea for months now and I've been gradually adding to it when I have time. Not entirely certain I'll finish it. Anyway, yes ALL of the Disney Princesses, and most of the heroines will be included in this. I'll try to update, but I have AP classes and an array of ECs so don't get your hopes up. The POVs are all going to be 1st person, but not all from the girls perspective. All cannon couples will be respected.
Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS OR THE HP UNIVERSE.
Their backs were turned. It was the perfect time to escape.
My footsteps were silent and my strides were long. It took merely minutes for me to get lost in the crowd.
Away from them I actually felt normal.
Well, at least as normal as a teenage witch wearing a dress that cost more than most people's entire wardrobe could feel.
I spun around, taking in the station. I'd been coming to Kings Cross for years and I still couldn't get enough of it.
The aroma of bittersweet coffee that wafted through the air. The children that chased after one another. The adults that rushed around with their newspapers and cigarettes. The noisy hum the crowd made. Distinct sounds: a child's laugh, an angry man yelling, trains whishing past.
It felt alive. I felt alive.
I got to the wall separating Platform 9 and 10 easily. The hard part was waiting for a moment where no one was looking. It took five whole minutes for me to be sure I wasn't being watched, but only a few seconds to get through the barrier.
Platform 9 ¾. Just seeing the sign filled me with pleasure.
I looked around until my eyes settled upon a pit-pocketer.
I don't know why, but he interested me. Maybe it was because I didn't witness thievery, or any other crime, very often. Maybe it was because his victim was Cruella de Vil. As in "the Devil," one of the wealthiest, most horrid witches in Europe. Maybe because it was because the guy looked familiar. I couldn't see his face exactly, but I felt like I'd seen that shaggy longish black hair and Middle Eastern completion before.
The thief was at the end of his job when I'd spotted him. He'd gotten a handful out of the Devil's purse without her noticing. Impressive, I supposed, but still illegal. I watched him carefully, wanting to see what he'd do with the money. Instead of keeping it, he found a group of beggars in the station and gave them the money. Not some of it. All of it. Even more impressive. I walked up to him.
"You know the ancient Arabs used to cut off the hands of those who thieved," I remarked, stepping closer, "Even if it was for the best intentions."
He didn't even turn around to face me.
"You know it's not right to just assume that I'm from the Middle East. For all you know I could be a Indian," he said, sounding annoyed.
"Hey I wasn't implying that you were. If I was then I'd be stereotyping myself as well." I countered, even though I had assumed he was Middle Eastern.
He turned to face me, and looked a bit shocked at my appearance.
Okay fine, my normal British accent doesn't exactly say Arab, but to be fair neither did his. Though his voice was somewhat familiar…
He muttered something I couldn't make out.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
He shook his head, "You're not going to rat me out are you?"
I shrugged, "It's the Devil's fault for carrying around that much money, and you spent it better than she could have."
His eyebrows shot up at the nickname, drawing attention to a pair of gorgeous brown eyes. I realized something then; he was kind of hot. I felt weird even thinking that, but I had to admit it. His whole tall dark and handsome thing worked.
"Her last name's de Vil and she's a horrible person." I shrugged nonchalantly, "She was just asking for the nickname."
He nodded, "I guess my crime is justified."
I laughed lightly.
He stepped closer to me and I became intensely aware of how close we were.
Merely inches apart.
In a dark corner of the stations.
Behind one of the huge square columns.
"Listen," he said, "I'm sorry you had to see that. I wouldn't steal if it wasn't my only option."
I nodded. "I understand." I lied.
I really didn't. Well, I guess I couldn't. I could have everything in the world if I asked for it, I didn't really understand wanting—let alone needing things I couldn't get.
"No, you probably don't." he said, "I mean, I alternate between living in an orphanage and the streets. I can't get a good job in the summer due to my background. It's not an easy world out there. There's nothing else for me to do, nowhere to go. And even when I have the money, I can't keep it for myself, which leads to more stealing, because I still need the money. God, it's like in this never ending cycle. I'm just—"
"Trapped," I finished. I understood that well enough. My dad rarely let me out of the house. If anyone knew trapped, it was me.
"Yeah," he said.
He was silent for a moment. Then he finally said, "Sorry about the rant. It's not like you want to hear the story of a goddamned 'street rat.'"
"No big deal," I brushed it off. "You know I from what I can see you're a lot more than a just a 'street rat'."
I stepped even closer to him. What was I doing?! I'd never done something like this before.
"I think you're a great guy." I finished, leaning in. My first kiss was going to be with a Robin Hood-like stranger I'd only known for a few minutes. I didn't even know his name. And I was a hundred percent okay with that.
"Jasmine!" I heard someone yell just before our lips were about to touch. I sprang away from Mr. Robin Hood.
It was the bodyguards.
"Madame Jasmine, do you have any idea how worried we were," started Bodyguard #1.
"We thought you'd been kidnapped!" Bodyguard #2 finished.
"Madame Jasmine?" Mr. Robin Hood asked.
"Jasmine Agrabad." Bodyguard #1 clarified, though not quite keenly, as he looked him up and down.
One look at his face and I knew Mr. Robin Hood recognized my last name.
"Wow, Princess," he mumbled bitterly, under his breathe, "Maybe I should have taken a look through your purse."
Neither one of the bodyguards indicated they'd heard him.
Bodyguard #2 announced, "Jasmine you must get on to the train. We have your things."
I turned to say goodbye to him, but he was already gone.
I found myself wandering toward the train, face flushed, incredibly embarrassed, and wondering why the stranger that almost became my first kiss sounded so familiar.
"JAZ!" Someone came and hugged me from behind.
Ariel. Only Ariel gave hugs like that.
"Ahhh I missed you so much!" she grinned, "Texting is not the same as actually seeing you."
I smiled, "It's good to see you too, Ariel."
"Look no navel-baring shirt today. Aren't you proud?" she laughed airly.
It was true. My best friend had for once opted to wear a top that actually covered her stomach. In all honesty, the skin-tight, cleavage-revealing tank top wasn't much better, but at least it wasn't as risqué as some of her other outfits.
Good. I always felt awkward when the bodyguards saw Ariel's outfits. They didn't express it, but I knew they didn't like that I was around someone who dressed so "inappropriately".
But that was Ariel. She'd always been like that, even in first year. It was actually worse then. She'd shown up to the Welcoming Feast in what would at best be a crop top and some booty shorts. At worst, underwear. It had been an awkward moment for everyone except Ariel, who didn't seem to see anything wrong with her outfit, when she entered the Great Hall. She'd had everyone stare at her until a teacher "suggested" she put her robes back on and she complied.
Even after that she never seemed to understand why it was wrong to show that much skin. Some people called her a slut (which was completely wrong considering the fact that she was only eleven), but I knew it probably had more to do with naivety. I found out later that she grew up in a beach town where it was normal to walk around in swimwear.
"Ooh I like the new makeup. You've got to let me try some." She said after surveying me quickly.
She wasn't going anywhere near my makeup. If her outfits got her called some not so nice words then, I couldn't imagine what people say if she added heavy make up to the mix. The only reason I even wore it like that was because Mama used to. Baba had bought me a replica of her collection for my sixteenth birthday. Putting on her lipstick every day made feel closer to her.
Mama had died when I was eleven. We were really, really close. I told her everything (which wasn't much as Baba refused to let me leave the house). She told me everything (which was much considering all the parties and benefits she'd go to). I remember how she always had time for me despite her social life. I remember watching her put on her mascara and wondering if I'd ever be as beautiful as she was. I remember shopping with her and feeling uncharacteristically shy when I suggested she try something on or picked out something for myself. I remember how her eyes smiled mischievously even when she wasn't teasing. I remember how alive she was.
I try not to remember her last days or the funeral that followed.
It hurt too much.
"You okay Jaz?" she said, "You kind of snapped out of it."
"I'm fine," I said absentmindedly, "But you can't borrow the makeup."
She nodded, "So how was your summer?"
I rolled my yes, "Like I told you a million times over text. Mind-bogglingly boring. I was cooped up the whole time. You?"
"Oh, fine, I stayed at Hogwarts again, you know with my parents always traveling," she said quickly, "C'mon let's find Punzie and Anna."
There was something about her voice when she mentioned her parents. I'd always thought it was weird how her parents were constantly traveling, that she had special permission to stay at the castle on every break. I had always had a feeling she was hiding something, but what?
I was a fucking liar.
When they asked me why I had trouble walking I told them I'd had leg surgery after an accident and was still getting used to it again.
When they asked why I stayed at Hogwarts all year I told them my parents were always traveling.
When they asked about my choice in clothing I told them that I grew up in a beach town where everyone walked around in swimwear.
I didn't think the lies were that great, but no one ever confronted me about them.
Maybe they just didn't care.
Jasmine did though. Care, that is. She was the only one, as far as I knew, who got suspicious of my lame-ass excuses.
I was really thankful she wasn't the prying type. When I brushed off my vacation, Jaz gave me her classic quizzical look, but didn't say a word about my parents or summer break as we made our way to our regular compartment.
I had known Jasmine since first year, when we'd both been sorted into Gryffindor. I remember sitting down next to her at the feast. We were the opposite in behaviour and looks. I was so bubbly and excited and she was calm and mellow. I looked like an eleven year old hooker (at least that's what they said) and she wore a hijab and modest long dresses.
She was the one that explained the dress code to me. She picked the bed next to mine in our dorm. She was my first friend, and for my first two years at Hogwarts, my only friend.
I was a weirdo. I was the girl that showed up to her first class dressed in bed sheets, the chick that tried to comb her hair with a fork, the idiot who didn't know what a cig was.
I was a mermaid in the human world.
They didn't know that, and there was no way I could tell them.
That's why I put up with the girls calling me a slut and the guys calling me a tease (even though I wasn't even a preteen). That's why I acted like I didn't hear their comments and didn't care what they thought.
It was hard though. There were nights where I silently cried myself to sleep, because I was so tired of the bitchy comments and so homesick my heart actually hurt.
But, there were also the five days of the month where the potion they gave me wore off, and I turned into a mermaid again. Those days I spent in the colony of the Black Lake. I had a distant cousin that let me stay with her, but I knew I was unwanted. I wasn't like them, I was warm water mermaid. I wasn't warlike, didn't entirely understand their dialect of mermish, and looked very different from them both in colours and in features.
It didn't matter though. Begin able to swim again was worth it. Sure, I could swim with my legs as a human, but it wasn't quite as thrilling or fun as actually kicking my tail through the water, going as fast as the muggle cars could. It was the best feeling in the world and sometimes I wondered why I gave it up. Then the potion would take effect again and I remembered the joys of having feet. Just being able to walk and run was amazing. Dancing was a bonus. And the amazing human food alone made it worthwhile, especially the candies from Honeydukes.
I missed Honeydukes.
"I can't wait till the next Hogsmeade trip, I've been craving chocolate frogs all summer." I told Jasmine.
"Yeah," she nodded, "And, you've almost got a complete set of cards."
"I know!" I grinned.
I loved to collect things, in fact when I was a full-time mermaid I had a collection of human things. My latest obsession was getting all the chocolate frog cards; it was also an excuse to eat as much chocolate as I could.
"So you meet any boys this summer?" I joked, arching my eyebrows suggestively, "Hmm? Hmm?"
Jaz looked a little caught off guard, but she quickly rolled her eyes, "Come on my dad wouldn't let me leave the house, let alone go out with a boy he didn't hand pick."
I'd visited Jasmine's house last Christmas Break and had met her overbearing father. She had been so paranoid after inviting me, and for good reason; I'd been going through a phase in which I purposely dressed as slutty as I could. She made me buy nearly a whole new wardrobe for the trip and put me through proper etiquette lessons. I'd thought she was going overboard until my car rolled up and I caught a look at her house. It was almost as big as the Castle and far better decorated. And, the usual dinner guests were either dignitaries, nobles, or businesspeople. They would have asked to send me to the madhouse if I'd tried to use the fork on my hair again.
I was so afraid Mr. Agrabah would be all strict and mean, but he was a total sweetheart. He was quick to compliment everyone and knew Jasmine like the back of his hand. Still, calling him a bit overprotective was the understatement of the century. The man had a bodyguard stay outside Jasmine's door at all times, the doors and windows charmed to lock as soon as the sun went down, and required her to be escorted even if she just wanted to go out into the gardens. It was like he thought the flowers would attack her or something.
He also despised seeing dudes around Jasmine. Unless they were the sons of his business partners. Then, he practically shoved them toward her. And all of them were the same: snobby, shallow, and conceded. I knew that from personal experience. In fact, I didn't feel bad at all when she let her cat Rajah attack that Ahmed dude.
All taken, I hadn't exactly expected her to have a summer fling or anything. But still, it was Jasmine, she was already sixteen, and honestly, with her curves, she could've passed for twenty. I was pretty sure at least half of the guys she knew had some sort of crush on her.
"Fine, you have your eye on anyone?" We were right outside our usual compartment.
She didn't get a chance to answer, as the door swung open.
"Ariel! Jasmine! It's so great to see you guys!" I heard Rapunzel yell. She looked as eager as ever. Right behind her sat her cousin Anna, who waved.
"Hey Blondie," I answered, "Great to see you two, too."
She gave me The Look.
The Look was a Rapunzel version of a glare: a pout. She always gave it to me when I used the nickname. "Blondie" was what her boyfriend Flynn called her; it was off limits to anyone else.
"Fine," I waved my hands in defeat, "I'm sorry Rapunzel."
She smiled again and pulled Jasmine, Anna, and me into a big hug.
"I still don't understand why only Rider can use the name," I remarked when she finally let us go, taking sitting next to her cousin again.
An obnoxious voice responded, "Did somebody call for Flynn Rider?"
I rolled my eyes, "No."
Flynn didn't care, "Good to see you too, Red."
He sat down on the other side of Rapunzel.
"Why are you here, don't you know the train ride is girl time?" I said, slightly annoyed at him for interrupting.
"Hey I haven't seen Blondie here in two whole days." He said cheekily.
I glared at him, "Yes that's much worse than how me and Jasmine haven't seen her in three months."
"I'm glad you understand." He said.
I scowled at him again.
"Fine, fine, fine." He sighed, getting up from his seat, "I just wanted to say hello to my girlfriend."
He turned to Rapunzel and said in his cheesy "sexy" voice, "Hey."
She shook her head and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
Then she told him sternly, "Goodbye, Flynn."
He left without another word.
"I can't believe your parents let him stay over at your house all summer." Jasmine said after the door shut.
"Well he was the one that introduced them." said Anna.
That was true. Not only had he brought her to Hogwarts, but he'd also helped her figure out who her birth parents were (not that it was particularly hard. Corona isn't exactly a very common surname).
I shock my head, "Still what kind of parents let their teenage daughter's boyfriend stay with them all summer. I mean it's like they were asking for a teenage pregnancy."
Rapunzel turned as red as a tomato.
Jasmine gave me a warning look.
I didn't stop there though (I rarely did), "Speaking of which, spill. How 'far' have you gone?"
If it was possible she turned redder and made a face.
"Oh come on I'm only fourteen! We haven't gotten past kissing and we're both okay with that." She said definitely.
I couldn't help myself; I snorted, "Oh really? Psh, I bet Rider's suffering from blue balls. He's been a man whore since he was fourteen and only reason he isn't getting some is you."
Jasmine elbowed me. Hard.
She changed the topic, "Anyway, who wants to play a game of Exploding Snap?"
Rapunzel nodded enthusiastically, "I've gotten a lot better. Flynn taught me how to perfect my technique."
Thank Merlin. She was kind of really awful at the game. She nearly had her eyebrows singed the last time we played.
Just as Jasmine had finished dealing the cards, there was a knock at the door.
Anna got up and answered it.
"Hi Flynn," she started as he walked in.
Behind him were two of his friends.
"And hi Flynn's friends." She finished.
"Look," he said holding up a large quantity of sweets from the trolley, "Some seventh years took our compartment. Could we sit here?"
I glanced at the other girls. Rapunzel, obviously, didn't seem to mind. Anna looked fine with it. And Jasmine was staring at one of his friends with raptly (he was looking at anything but her. Hmm…).
I didn't want to be the only one to protest.
"Depends," I answered, "How many chocolate frogs do you have?"
One of his mates threw me a few packs. The dude with the weird accent.
"Well thank you very much." He said sitting down next to me, undescritly taking a glance and my chest. Pervert.
Jasmine redealed the cards and we started a tournament.
I had to admit it was more fun with the boys playing as well. The look on Flynn's face when Anna creamed him was gratifying. The subtle eye-language between Jasmine and Aladdin was entertaining. (I'd have to ask about that.) Even perverted "Prince" Naveen was amusing to an extent with his wise-cracks.
Still I was relieved when we got off the train and Flynn led the guys to a carriage away from ours. I liked girl time, and I really wanted to ask Jaz about the whole Aladdin fiasco.
When we entered the carriage, I realized that we would have to wait to get to the dormitories for some privacy; there were already two girls sitting in the plush seats.
I didn't even notice the other girls come in. That's how deep in thought I was. I didn't see four girls enter the carriage. Honestly, I had barely noticed Belle. I was still worrying about the outfit I'd have to change into. And trying to come up with a good time to do that.
The plan had to be executed perfectly to work.
You see, I first got the idea at the Pre-Victory Games Tea the Disney Society held a few weeks ago. The Disney Society, if you didn't know, is probably the most prestigious witches societies in Europe. There are two kinds of members: the mothers and the daughters. Not all of the "mothers" are actually mums and not all of the daughters are the children of the "mothers," but that's their role in this elite group. To be a pureblood "mother" trying to get her daughter married and introduced to society. Or to be a proper "daughter" preparing to be a debutant.
In other words, it's living hell.
The only reason I'm even in the club is because my dad was a war veteran. The only reason I agreed was because my parents insisted that it was the only way for me to "bring honour to our family." Yes, the Fa family, the oldest pureblood Chinese family in the United Kingdom. So much pride. So many expectations.
Except, I'm a failure at being a socialite. I'm not as pretty as a social darling should be. I have no grace nor manners. I'm intolerably clumsy. I have no sense of style. I can't cook. I can't dance. I'm an awful hostess.
No matter how hard I try, I can't be the person they want me to be.
This was painfully evident the Pre-Victory Games Tea. The Victory Games is a tournament they hold every ten years at Hogwarts to celebrate the anniversary of the defeat of Voldemort. There are three teams of fourteen competing against each other in all of these different categories, but members get eliminated until it's down to six total competitors. Then it's all for individual gain. The prize for the ultimate winner is seventy-five thousand galleons and bragging rights for their school.
Anyway, the Pre-Victory Games Tea is basically this huge fancy tea party that happens on the first Saturday of August every year to commemorate the games. It's also an excuse for the elite to get together and brag about their success. And an excuse to pair their kids up.
This year I was stuck with Gaston Chasseur during the random Tea for Two thing they always do. It was supposed to be a way for the kids to mingle, but usually was just plain awkward. All Gaston did was brag about the team he was putting together for the Games. As the brawniest seventh year (ever) he was chosen to be captain of the team. Technically he was supposed to organize the team and such, but he was leaving most of the responsibility to his second-in-command Shang Li. He just had a vague outline of the type of people he wanted.
"So are you going for a half boy half girl team or—?" I remember trying to ask before immediately being interrupted.
"Ha! There's no way a chick is getting on my team. No girl has ever won the games. They'd just bring us down with their worries of breaking a nail."
As a feminist, this sort of blatant misogyny irritated me. I gritted my teeth, "There's only been four games played."
"Exactly, and a guy has one every single one of them."
"That doesn't mean—"
"That means guys are better than girls."
I couldn't believe his nerve. I was so angry I couldn't speak.
"And if guys are better than girls, then why have any girls on the team?"
At this point I couldn't take it anymore.
"You—you—you!" I shoved the table cloth toward him. "You sexist pig!"
Boiling tea splashed all over him.
Everyone stared in my direction. My face turned red. I avoided everyone's gaze as I rushed to a bathroom.
I came out after an hour had passed, and it seemed like my error had been forgotten. At least that's what I thought until I heard the whispers.
"—she was so rash—"
"—with a temper, and ideas like that she's never going to find a husband—"
"—poor Zhou, having to live with such a disgraceful daughter—"
"—the man just had the misfortune of having a girl—"
"—imagine if he had a son instead, someone to bring him honour instead of shame him—"
I was embarrassed. Then angry that what I did was embarrassing. Why was it my fault? He was the one talking crap about women. What century were they living in? Ugh, the patriarchy. I was fuming until the event ended.
Then I saw the look on my dad's face and I just felt guilt. Sure what they said was stupid, but I shamed my dad.
My favourite person in the world.
The guy that I hated to disappoint.
The person always talking about the importance of honour.
It killed me that I'd shamed him. It killed me to know that he thought I was a lost cause.
And eventually, I came up with an idea.
If the Fa family needed a son, then they'd get one.
It took me the rest of the month to get the stuff I'd need. The clothing. The potion. And, just for fun, the baby dragon Mum wouldn't let me get.
The plan was simple. I'd join the Victory Games Team as a guy, win, then reveal that it was me all along.
All I had to do was brew the potion. The same one Joan of Arc had used so many centuries ago. The same one every witch has used to masquerade as a wizard.
It didn't turn a girl into a guy, if that's what you're thinking. No, it made her look like one.
To put it bluntly when I used it, my face would look more like a guys, my boobs would shrink, my voice would deepen, and, erm, it would look like I had balls.
Awkward, and gross, I know, but hey, it was necessary. And one dosage lasted just over an hour. I'd only use it, once or twice a day to attend practice, then a bit more often during the games, but it wasn't permanent.
And, as I kept telling myself, it would be worth it when I won. Then I'd get to see the smug look come right off of Gaston's face. Then my Dad would be proud of me.
But how was I supposed to pull it off? What if they realized that I was me? Or if they realized the guy I was pretending to be didn't exist? What if I lost anyway?
My stomach growled.
All of my anxiety evaporated as I thought of one reassuring thought:
There'll be plenty of food at the Castle.