A/N: This is sort of an adventurous romantic comedy set in Hogwarts. I was aiming for pure fluff, but I seem to be unable to write long fic without a plot, so this happened.

Many thanks to phoenix-91 for the beta. And well, thedorkone throwing Hogwarts headcanons for Root and Shaw at me is the reason this story exists.

Prologue: the one with the slightly melodramatic introductions (that prove they're perfect for each other)

Samantha Groves was not raised to believe in magic.

She had grown up an only child in a small town, daughter to a sick mother abandoned by her father. When reality was so harsh, there was no time for such frivolities as dreams and magic.

No.

Samantha Groves did not believe in magical solutions and had no time for naive hopes. She believed in herself, in her body's ability to perform tasks and, above all else, she believed in the power of her mind.

From a very young age, Samantha focused on improving and achieving, always trying to outdo herself in everything she did. She had no thoughts to spare to most people so she mostly competed with herself. Even at home, despite being the child, she had to be the responsible one; she was the caretaker of her little family unit of two. Like a proper Cinderella, she would cook and tidy up the house, she would tend to her mother's every need and whim. She bought groceries and booked doctors' appointments. She was an ambitious adult trapped in the limitations of a faux-innocent body.

Samantha didn't mind. There weren't many people she loved – in fact, there were only two – but she loved her mother. It seemed fair to her that she would look after the woman who had given her the gift of life. For the moment, at least.

She was content with her situation, with all the books she had to read and all the afternoons spent exploring the computers in the library. Samantha enjoyed machines. All of them. Computers, televisions, calculators. She appreciated the cleanliness, the clarity of function and of design. She appreciated their simplicity most of all.

You see, Samantha didn't have much to her external life, but her brain? Her brain would never stop working, always with a plan or an idea, always with an improvement to be added to her routine. She didn't care for dreaming because she didn't have dreams; she had certainties. She would become someone with means and possessions, she would move out of the middle of nowhere and get her mother the best care, she would know the world and conquer it.

Samantha's certainties were probably the reason why, in all the history of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she was the only person who wasn't exhilarated when she received her letter of acceptance.

~~.~~.~~

Samantha recognized the man right away. She had read Harry Potter but, as was the case with every child whose feet were firmly planted on the ground, she took it as creative fancy. A good way to pass the time and exercise the mind – she liked mapping out the castle and coming up with optional codes and passwords for the passageways. The great fight between Good and Evil, however, was not to her liking.

"You are Hagrid, right?" she asked, fingers whitening on the doorknob.

"Yeh know me?" He looked puzzled, holding an ugly hat to his chest with his big hands. He was different than she'd imagined, bulkier and shorter, but his eyes were kind and displayed his nervousness.

(later in life, when she was no longer Samantha Groves, she would have found that a weakness to be explored. but not yet.)

Samantha did know him, and apparently all the other characters that had appeared in the four books released so far. It was surprising Hagrid had not gotten used to being recognized but then again, maybe coming to get muggleborns was not something he did that often. Which begged the question of why exactly he was the one picking up Samantha, of all children. Or perhaps wizards remained so self-centric they hadn't even realized a world famous book series was spilling out all their secrets.

The night was clear, stars sprinkling the sky here and there, and Samantha peeked behind him to find the famous motorbike parked by her fence. It was late August and it was not her birthday, even though she had indeed turned 11 that year.

"I'm Sam," she said, bobbing her chin from left to right. "I don't know how this works."

"Let me talk to yer mom."

She let him pass but didn't follow. Instead, she went upstairs and packed and wondered how her mom could possibly afford a Hogwarts education. Then she sat on her bed and thought of Hanna, who would be hurt about being left behind without an explanation or a single word of goodbye.

(she didn't like it when Hanna was sad, it made her chest tight and she didn't know what to do with it.)

It was a curious thing, how Samantha Groves had spent her life not believing in magic but that hadn't stopped magic from finding her anyway.

~~.~~.~~

When Hagrid parked the motorbike by Gringotts, Sam visualized a future of student debt. She had a vision for her life and that life did not include owing money to anybody.

"I don't have any money," she told Hagrid, her nails digging into the backpack resting on her legs. "Unless we can turn my money into magic money?"

"Yer father left yeh enough to pay for everything, Sam, don' worry. We'll take what we need for now."

Father? All Sam knew about her father was that he had gotten her mother pregnant and had never been seen again. With hesitant, careful steps, she walked beside him and into the bank. "My… my father?"

"Yes," he answered excitedly, as if this was some grand source of joy and not the biggest shock of Sam's short life. "Yer father is a wizard!"

Is? She had gone from a fatherless, magicless girl to a witch with two parents? All in a few hours?

Sam felt like she had been punched, and her heart started beating so loudly she thought she would die right there and then. She was so scared she reached for Hagrid, uncharacteristically so, and she held on to his sleeve, looking up at him with teary eyes he either didn't notice or didn't understand, "My father… is alive?"

She had told herself he wasn't. It was easier that way.

"Of course he's alive!" Hagrid said, all enthusiasm and obliviousness. "He's a very busy wizard."

Sam gulped and took a very deep breath. She thought of her mother and of what they had both built for themselves. She thought of an absence she had seldom felt and she would've preferred to be left untouched. She thought of all the certainties she wasn't sure she still had.

Letting go of Hagrid's sleeve, Samantha Groves clenched and unclenched her fists, took another deep breath and decided to pretend none of this was of importance.

"Hagrid?"

"Yes?"

"Could you make sure that all the money left after school is paid goes to take care of my mother?"

(later, as an adult, Sam would track down her father and that meeting would not end well. but that is another story and shall be told another time)

~~.~~.~~

Gringotts had more money than Sam had ever seen and Diagon Alley had been the first time Sam had felt excited about having magic. Maybe she could use it to her advantage, she had thought, maybe she could be better, maybe she could be more in both worlds.

The Hogwarts Express hadn't brought Sam a wide range of emotions as it rode through the countryside. It was just a boring train with loud kids and she was stuck in a coach, dreading the life she now had ahead of her.

When they arrived at the castle, the night had already fallen and Sam scrunched her nose at the dark and ominous aura of the place, rolling her eyes at the atmosphere of excitement around her. It was draining for she had no part in it.

They were all ushered into the Great Hall to sit around huge rectangular tables and Sam walked to the front without hesitation. She knew what was about to happen and she wanted to study it carefully.

It took a long time for everyone to settle down and Sam had to admit that there was a singular beauty to how the ceiling reflected the night sky even though she was quite uncomfortable with all the candles floating around. Were magic places immune to fires?

Her musings were interrupted by a deep voice singing about the Hogwarts Houses and what kind of people they welcomed, the rhymes a bit awkward and not quite matching in melody. Sam found it all very intriguing and she watched with curiosity as first-years sat on the stool to be sorted, one after the other.

When her turn came to be analyzed by the Sorting Hat, Sam realized she could learn many things, but she would never trust or even like magic. The Hat never even touched her. It was about to be dropped on her head when it shouted "Slytherin!" and Sam was shooed away from the stool.

She didn't care about any of the Houses in particular. She had even wondered, while reading the books, where she would be sorted. But being there, witnessing the ceremony and being a part of it, she was taken by a wave of contempt that she couldn't shake away.

An enchanted object had somehow barely sniffed her hair and made a judgment to last her for her entire run at the school. The wizarding world had deemed it acceptable that a Hat – a hat of all things – would read 11 year-olds' minds and place them in neatly packed personality boxes.

Sam was many things, but someone who respected authority that didn't give her reasons to be respected, she was not.

She would be her own person and make her own name.

She would make Hogwarts feel like there was a need for a fifth house.

~~.~~.~~

That was how, in September 2001, Samantha Groves started her time at Hogwarts.

The little magic Sameen Shaw had in her life died along with her father.

He was the one who took the time to play with her and tell her stories. He would create these great scenarios with Legos and then make a different voice for each of the mini-figures, a grand ploy of tragedy and heroism. Sameen just sat in front of him, listening to him talk, and she would build the houses and the spaceships of his tales. Sometimes – very rarely –, she would like one of the characters he invented and only then would she interfere in her father's stories.

Sameen was not a very imaginative child, but she enjoyed the little sparks of enchantment her father brought into their interactions.

His death, however, she didn't remember well. It was all very blurry in her memory even if it hadn't happened that long ago. She was in the car, her father singing to a Johnny Cash tune (he was his favorite), and then there was a loud crash noise and she had gotten those weird twirling feelings you get in your stomach when you go on a rollercoaster. Shortly after, a nice ambulance man had saved her but he couldn't save her father.

She had felt an unknown emptiness inside, as if all her organs had jumped out and found themselves a new home. It was as if she was looking at herself from the outside and Sameen didn't like that sensation at all.

And so she had asked for food and the nice ambulance man had brought her a sandwich.

(that sandwich still haunts Shaw's taste buds.)

It had filled her with relief and warmth, and made her feel like her body still worked. It had made her feel normal again.

That day was the day Sameen Shaw discovered you could always trust food, even when you couldn't trust anything else.

That sandwich marked the start of Sameen Shaw's lifelong love affair with food and proved to her that there was comfort to be found even in the darkest of times.

~~.~~.~~

The day Sameen got accepted into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, there was a knock on the door of the house where she lived with her mother, so polite she didn't even hear it. But her mom did, and she got off the couch to answer it.

There was a mix of angry whispers and annoyed shouting but Sameen was not one to eavesdrop. She didn't realize the relevance of what was happening until her mother returned to the living room, a skinny lady with thick glasses in tow.

"Sameen," her mother said, a frown on her forehead and angry lines around her mouth. "I have something to tell you."

Sameen had listened attentively, following her mother's many words with a stoic expression. Maybe she should have been excited or scared, after all this house and this town were all she'd known since her father's death. And magic was real.

But no.

Sameen Shaw didn't want to be a witch. She wanted to become a doctor and save people, like the ambulance man did for her and her father had done for his country. She didn't have a choice in the matter though. Not at that time.

All wizards and witches must learn to control their magic before they're allowed out in the world to do what they want with their lives.

This had to be the stupidest thing that had ever happened to her.

~~.~~.~~

Sameen tried really, really hard not to be impressed by anything as the skinny lady dragged her from one place to the other, but that proved kind of difficult. She had never seen a building as massive as that wizard bank and then the shopping street had flying objects and people dressed in silly colorful robes and owls and maybe this whole magic thing was not as bad as it seemed.

That wizard train had way too many people in too small a place though, and Sameen withdrew to the quietest seating area she could find.

After that, the Sorting Hat Ceremony was the first time she managed to express some mild interest again, but that might have been due to the fact that they were supposed to start eating after being sorted into one of the Houses.

She patiently awaited her turn and, when it came, she sat on the stool with her back straight and her arms crossed over her chest.

Sameen was expecting the Hat to shout something right away but instead she was presented with a silence that stretched on and on until she was beginning to feel uneasy.

"So?" she thought, really loud and despondent to make sure whatever magic possessing the Hat was capable of hearing her. "Get on with it."

She heard a deep chuckle inside her head and that was way scarier than she would ever admit.

"Patience, Sameen."

"Call me Shaw," was her automatic response. "Please," she added as an afterthought, imagining her mother's reprimand.

The Hat hummed in agreement but said nothing more.

"What's taking you so long?"

"I could place you in any of the Houses, little girl."

Shaw gritted her teeth. She hated being called that.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"I could place you in any of the Houses," the Hat repeated, echoing in her brain. "Do you have any preference?"

"Not really." She shrugged, grabbing the round edges of the stool with both hands. "No, wait."

"Yes?"

"Is there a House that uh, gets to eat more?"

"What do you mean, 'eat more'?"

"I dunno," Shaw mumbled, and it was weird, how she was mumbling in her head the exact same way she would do with her voice. "Is there a House that is famous for liking food more or something like that?"

The Hat laughed and laughed in her mind and Shaw had to make a monumental effort not to throw it across the room after it shouted "Hufflepuff!"

~~.~~.~~

That was how, in September 2003, Sameen Shaw started her seven years at Hogwarts.

A/N: I experimented a little with an omniscient narrator for the prologue, since I wanted to set the groundwork for the story. The rest of the fic will be in 3rd person POV for both Root and Shaw though. :) Thanks for reading!