Classes have just finished for the afternoon and most students are traipsing about the school, filling time between class and dinner. Morgana DeWitt, however, makes her way down to the cellars as quickly as she can, dumping her bookbag on the floor and taking a moment, in the privacy of the empty cellar, to pull out a mirror and quickly reassure herself that her appearance is more or less in order. After a moment, she lowers the mirror and turns her eyes onto the stairs down into the cellar, evidently waiting for someone else to join her. Absentmindedly, she combs her fingers through her hair as she does so.

Not long after Morgana waits a long shadow is cast down the steps and footsteps echo down the dark celler. The shadow is cast by the sizable nose an young Marcus Winsley‘s face and his hair is exceptionally untidy today sticking up in jagged points here and there as if he had stuck his nose in a Muggle lamp. As he comes down the steps he spots Morgana and with her note still in is hand he steps closer to her. “Well what do you wan’t?” Why did he even show up?

Slipping her mirror back into her pocket and smiling – yes, smiling, though it is quite humourless – at Marcus as he approaches, Morgana shrugs her shoulders lightly at his query, eying him appraisingly. “Hello, Winsley,” she offers, after a moment of silence. “So, are you going to give me your class notes or not?” Because obviously, that’s a matter you summon someone to a cellar for.

“Thats what you wanted?” Marcus glares hard at her but after a moment his expresion softends. “Well whats in it for me Dewitt? How are you going to pay?” Ah yes there his shrewd herritage shineing through.

“Pay?” Morgana scoffs in turn, folding her arms and shaking her head. “Of course I’m not going to pay you, Winsley. Which rather brings me to the reason I asked you to meet me here instead of the common room. What’s in it for you? Me not telling everyone… things about you.” Whether this is a threat to reveal known secrets or merely just malicious and untrue gossip is uncertain from her tone, though either way, she delivers the statement with a sort of all-knowing, smug – not to mention, inherently malicious – air.

“Who’s sharing notes?” Satinka asks, turning a corner and putting her hands on her hips. The girl is not that menacing, being in a monster of a periwinkle robe, but she does appear to have a bit of a smug expression on her face. “I should tell my mum that you’re paying for notes.” Nevermind that Satinka‘s never met either of these people before, she wants to know just what’s going on in this corridor.

With a roll of his eyes Marcus sets his things down in a corner and takes a seat in the floor. “There isn’t much you can do to me Morgana. No one likes me remember?” Marcus shrugs and opens his book bag takeing out his notes. “But since you won’t stand a chance of passing without them… and we are in the same house…” Marcus holds the notes out to Morgana.

Turning a rather dark gaze on Satinka, raising an eyebrow in confusion, Morgana only offers a vague, “And who are you when you’re at home, kid?” Then, back to Marcus without another word to Satinka, smiling the same humourless smile and taking the notes in hand. If she sees the insult for what it is, she discards it just as quickly as her interest in Satinka’s identity. “Good, Winsley. Very good. And, well, perhaps no one likes you, but there are worse things than just being disliked.”

A startled jump has Marcus on his feet as he spots Satinka for the first time. “Your Professor Rathe’s daughter aren’t you? What does it matter if I want to sell my notes. There mine aren’t they?” Marcus nods in Morgana’s direction. “And even if she had paied me for them… she’s dumb as a stump and not likley to pass anyway.”

“I am Satinka Rathe, if you must know,” Satinka replies and flips her hair over her shoulder. She strides towards the two. “So are you really selling your notes to her?” she directs to Marcus, pointing her finger out at him and then crossing her arms over one another. “Anyway, I’m no kid, and I’m to be sorted soon, and I plan on being Slytherin, so you’ll be best to get used to me.” She looks at them both with a grin on her face, as if she’s expecting something from the both of them.

Unable to, for the moment, think of a decent comeback, Morgana simply swivels and stares blankly, eyes wide and unblinking, at Satinka for a full half-minute, before just shrugging and turning her attention back to Marcus. “You had better take that back, Winsley, otherwise I might just make a slip of the tongue in the common room later on. There are worse things than just being disliked, like I said.”

Marcus Winsley shrugs silently and sits back down on the cold floor. “Do whatever you want. I gave you my notes. You win DeWitt.” Marcus looks over to Satinka. “So you and um… whats his name…” He pauses for a momment. “That brother of yours… your going to be in Slytherin?”

“Well, I plan on it,” she answers with a wide grin. “I think Seker wants to be in Ravenclaw or something ridiculous, but I know where I’m going to end up.” Satinka speaks as if she’s already had her moment with the Sorting Hat and just biding her time until she can join the ranks. “Slytherin’s the only place worth being.” Satinka is clearly a girl of large opinion. “Mind you, this has nothing to do with my mum, it’s because I want it.” She nods and then looks from Morgana to Marcus again. “What, no sordid deals for notes? What fun is that?”

Slipping the notes into her bookbag, Morgana trains a dark expression on Marcus, remaining silent for a long moment in response. “Winsley, I don’t want to talk to this girl any longer. You’ll walk me back to the common room, won’t you?” This isn’t a question so much as command: Satinka isn’t the only forceful personality in the room, and Morgana‘s sense of entitlement might well remain unmatched. “After all, like you said, I can’t hurt your reputation any more, can I?”

“No I’m not going to walk you anywhere. You got what you wanted so go study.” Marcus‘s tone is a bit more annoyed now. “And anyway she at least seems intelligent Morgana. More than I can say for you.” Ah perhaps Marcus is growing back his spine?

Laughing out loud, Satinka seems quite amused at Marcus’s statement. “What’ve I done to you, then?” she asks the girl, whose first name she still hasn’t managed to catch. “Besides, look who’s talking. You’re acting like a moody child,” Satinka retorts, putting her hands on her hips and affecting a look that she has likely seen her mother or some other parental figure use on her at one time or another. “That is never becoming in a lady.”

“You are walking me back to the commons.” Morgana repeats, glaring at Marcus, pressing her lips together firmly. Slinging her bookbag over her shoulder, she reaches out to grab his arm, almost as if she intends to forcefully drag him back to the commons alongside her – though perhaps a little more dignity than that generally implies. Then, her gaze fixes once again on Satinka, and she rolls her eyes. “Do I look like I care if I appear ladylike to people like you?” She asks after a moment of silence, before she shakes her head and turns her attention back to Marcus.

Looking down at Morgana’s hand on his arm Marcus scoffs. “I am not and if you do anything at all I’m going to tell Professor Rathe you’ve be herassing me!” An empty threat really, everyone knows how Marcus avoids attention from teachers. Marcus pulls away from Morgana and tucks himself into the corner… as if it could protect him.

“Bullying boys, honestly,” Satinka scoffs, though it seems as if the now-eleven-year-old might do the very same thing if the situation suited. “You may not be a Hufflepuff, but you still ought to do your own work.” Satinka pauses and then shrugs after mulling over Morgana’s comment. “If you don’t want to be ladylike, that’s your choice, but for my part, I’d like to at least be a respectable lady. Better to have people on your side than not, after all,” she tells the older girl, and it is only slightly obvious that she’s likely been told that very same thing sometime in her life.

“You will not.” Morgana replies, shaking her head almost pityingly at Marcus. “You will not tell Professor Rathe that I’ve been harassing you at all, because even if you did, what’s she going to do? I haven’t hit you or cursed you or anything, and I certainly haven’t bothered you in front of a professor. Whose word will Professor Rathe take, yours or mine?” The actual answer to this may not actually be in her favour, though she ignores this, brushing her hair over her shoulder with one hand and turning her back on Marcus, climbing the stairs and departing without another word, or so much as a glance to either him or Satinka – or, in fact, any acknowledgement of Satinka’s words, except for a quiet ‘huh’ as she departs, and a vague wave in her direction.

Watching Morgana walk away Marcus sighs just a little. “She’s insaine that one…” He looks over to Satinka. “And she wasn’t bullying me… she was blackmailing me… theres… a difference.” The tone he says this is of course states that he has no idead what said difference is though. “Anyway… the notes I gave her are garbage…”

“Well, she’ll believe mine, and I can tell her if you want, Marcus,” Satinka responds, shrugging in Morgana’s direction as she leaves, and then turns her attention solely to Marcus. “If you want, that is. I don’t want to make you into a snitch if you don’t want to be.” She pauses. “Tell me why you put up with her, though! I don’t think I would. I don’t plan to when I’m in Slytherin.” Hearing Marcus’s statement, Satinka lets out a boisterous laugh. “It serves her right for not doing it on her own. Nobody ever got anywhere without working for it. That’s what my mum always says.” She nods at this.

“Well…” Comes Marcus‘s slow response. “I guess because she is the closest thing I have to a friend…” Marcus shrugs again and stands up picking up his bag. “Well your Mum is weird… you should have seen her last class… She’s in love with that Professor Helit.”

As if the boy has gone mad, Satinka stares at him blankly. “You clearly don’t know my mum very well. I’m relatively certain that she would never like that man that way.” She shakes her head decisively. “Besides, I’ve already got a father, she needn’t bother with him. I’ll have to have words with her about it later.” Satinka speaks as if she’s an adult, and coming from one so young, she likely looks a bit ridiculous to those around her, who in this case, are, well, Marcus. “Besides, she isn’t weird. She’s a perfectly normal person.”

“Thats not what the Dailey Prophet says…” It just creeps out of Marcus‘s lips as a bit of an after thought that had no real thought put behind it at all. “But she’s a great teacher anyway… and I guess we could do worse for a Head of House… I just wish somone would break that stupid cane of hers.” Marcus knows all too well the sting of Astra’s cane.

“Well, everyone knows the Daily Prophet is just absolute rubbish, anyway!” Satinka exlaims rather suddenly. “What if my brother and I got that for her as a present?” She retorts suddenly. “Would you still want to break it then?” Nevermind that the twins would never have gotten Astra such a dangerous gift. The girl crosses her arms before him as she looks at him expectantly. “Well? What do you say to that?”

Chuckling Marcus nods. “Yes I’d still want to break it. I don’t care where she got it… it’s painfull.” Marcus grins just a little looking down his large nose at Satinka. “It’s nothing personal. I just hate that thing.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t do anything to make her use it, then,” Satinka offers with a quirk of her head. Coming out that way, it sounds so simple, and she seems to say it as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “Obviously she wouldn’t use it unless she needed to.” She nods at this and looks about the hallway. “Believe me, I know.” And of course, Satinka being who she is, she would.

“I havn’t in a while… and the first time was that Harper’s fault.” Marcus looks up the hallway and back again at Satinka. “And everyone knows Harper is Foster’s lapdog I bet he got out of that hexing in the Great Hall easy last year.” Sour grapes anyone? “But I’ve been keeping a low profile now… ” He dosn’t mention that it’s because his brother graduated last year.

“Well, I don’t know anything about this Martin fellow, nor Louis, but I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that. If it is, well…” She pauses. “Then do something about it.” Satinka shrugs and giggles a bit, flouncing her periwinkle skirt. “Anyway, I’m going to the kitchens for a snack. I’ll see you around!” It’s either a promise or a threat, and it’s clear that Satinka does mean it, but soon she’s tickled the pear on the painting and slips in to get to the kitchens and is gone.

Marcus Winsley watches as the little Rathe tickles a pear and he is about to say somthing untill the painting opens. “Erm right. See you.” With that he turns to make his way to the commons.

With his painstakingly-crafted ‘pro and con’ list in one hand and a quill in the other (new pros seemed to come to him at the most random times), Seker saunters into the common area, checking to make sure all required parties are in attendance. Check. He and Satinka had been meaning to bring this up with mother for some time, and now seemed as good a time as any. Clearing his throat, Seker eyes Satinka, engrossed in her affair with a disgusting, frilly thing. Before waiting for her to look up, Seker steps up to Astra and hands her the piece of parchment in a most dignified manner. “Mother, please find the reasons why Satinka and I would make outstanding first-year students in 1926.” My, he cuts to the chase, doesn’t he?

“Seker!” Satinka gasps in shock. No eloquence at all. The doll she has been fussing with has been dropped to the floor, discarded for the time being, as she joins her brother. “You were supposed to tell me when you were going to do that.” She scoffs and sighs in protest, but stands, watching her mother, nevertheless. As long as he brought it up, they might was well pursue it, right? The girl snatches the list out of Seker’s hands. “I wrote it, I get to hold it,” she hisses and beams down at Astra. “I don’t think you have any reasons why not, Mother.”

Curled up in one of the chairs and relaxing with a good book, it is that time of the evening that Astra solely dedicates to being at home with her children even if they aren’t always spent actively engaged and socializing together. Flipping a leaf a maddeningly calm fashion, she doesn’t even acknowledge the list until Satinka jumps into the fray and snatches it away from Seker. “Well, I see you two have given this a lot of thought.” Dropping the book into her lap, her left hand perched over the pages to keep her place she regards both children. “Simply put, you may not attend until you are fully eleven years old. Do you honestly think that the rules in this situation do not apply to you?” She speaks with a clean and even tone, one that indicates her stance on the subject.

“I cleared my throat, what did you want, a royal decree? Oh, Queen Satinka, I’m going to talk to mother now,” Seker said in a whisper, rolling his eyes. Having ignored Satinka’s snatching of his list for the time being, he waits, watching their mother with great anticipation. Her reaction is less than inspiring. “The reason the rules don’t apply to us is that we’re already living here. If you’ll see line thirteen in our document, you’ll find that Sakinka and I are well beyond the maturity level required to attend. And you’ve said yourself that we’ll have fine skill once we’re taught.” A pause is taken as Seker thinks to press for another one of his desires. “You know, mum, I could have owled this list to you, if I had one…”

“We already know the whole castle, and all of the teachers and everything, Mum.” Satinka elbows her brother, who she is starting to grow taller than. “We’re better situated for starting than any of the kids who are supposed to start in September. We know loads more than them, too!” Thinking of Seker’s mention of an owl, the girl grins a bit. “We can’t rightly practice, either, without wands and such. Come about, mother, you can’t expect that we’re not suited to beginning this term!” Satinka stomps her foot, as she makes her point about beginning, glancing only momentarily at her brother.

“You will get your owl, your wand, and your supplies after you get your invitation to Hogwarts.” Punctuating her sentence by turning her head to look at each child in turn, a faint and amused smile brushes the far corners of her lips. “While you may indeed have the maturity to attend the school, the point remains that you are not old enough. If the Board or the Headmistress were to break the rules for you, she would have to do so for every child coming in for your Sorting year. In essence, what you want is not a simple *bending* of the rules, but outright breaking.” Glancing down to her book, Astra skims the next page, “The rules apply to everyone equally.” At the stomping of the foot, she looks sharply up at her daughter. “You know how I feel about your tantrums. If you cannot behave in a civilized manner, you may remove yourself from my presence at once. That trick may work on Blair but it does not work on me.” “If you want me to respect you, you must act more adult. I should think that’s simple enough to understand for one of your intellect.”

Proud that he’s never stamped his foot in front of mother, Seker crosses his arms, not willing to let the topic drop so easily. “We’re a special situation! Not everyone would have the same conditions! It’ll only make it harder on the poor Slytherins who are sorted with us, if they don’t let us into the next sorting. Mother, imagine how inadequate you’d feel if two of your housemates knew everything about Hogwarts? It’d be much easier for them if we were sorted as promptly as possible.” Donning a very sincere look, Seker hesitates only a minute before putting a hand on Astra’s knee, for emphasis, of course.

“And of course, Mum, it’s only rule-breaking if you do it without permission. We’re going to get permission! Seker’s written out a whole letter to Professor Hargrove.” A pause, and then Satinka elbows her brother discreetly. “Haven’t you, Seker?” Satinka pauses then retorts to the tantrum statement. “Besides, mother, it isn’t a tantrum. I am merely trying to make you understand that I’m serious. After all, most Hogwarts students gawk at the castle when they get to it. It isn’t as if we haven’t seen them all tripping over themselves when they come in.” Satinka rolls her eyes as if this is the most ridiculous fare. She pauses in thought. “We don’t actually have to take the nasty old train to get here, do we? After all, we already live in the castle.”

“That’s a very nice argument Seker, but your foundation is lacking. You see, no matter when you get Sorted, you’re sure to have the advantage and as you put it ‘make your housemates feel inadequate’. If this were to not happen next year, it would happen this year.” Not twitching at being touched, Astra has gotten used to the physical closeness of her children, if not fully appreciative of their gestures. Directing her attention to Satinka, her tone remains as calm as her earlier verbal parries. “You will have a better time of communicating your desires and showing me you’re serious by behaving in a more polite fashion.” A hint of weary resignation now shadows her otherwise placid features, “you did not *seriously* send a letter to the Headmistress? Did you?” “She isn’t going to allow it. The Board won’t allow it. She simply *cannot* make an exception for you. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“I want to take the train!” says Seker, shocked that Satinka doesn’t. The train was part of Hogwarts. He’d feel different enough as is was, his first year. Seker intended on riding the boats across the lake, too. He wouldn’t need more to set him apart, what with having his own room up here when all his housemates would have to stay in dormitories. “But yes, I wrote a letter to her,” he replies to his sister, appalled that she’d doubt him! “Maybe she’d let us. We had to at least try… take some kind of action. This is very important to us, mum,” Seker says, though withdrawing his hand. “Don’t you know how hard it is to wait? It’s like being a squib, seeing magic all around but not being able to participate. It’s like being a muggle,” he revises.

“You were right the first time, Seker. It’s like being a squib!” She shakes her head forlornly. “How do you know Professor Hargrovve wouldn’t let us? Have you asked her? Do you have the Inner Eye?” Satinka gasps. “Mother, if you are able to See and you haven’t told me, I will be so angry!” As if anyone in history has ever taken the anger of a ten-year-old seriously. The girl sighs at Astra’s unmoving protest. “We ought to at least have a chance to try, Mum! After all, it is torture to wait.” She pauses. “Besides, I’m sure I’d be better than everyone at the dinky little spells that the firsties do.” She nods resolutely.

“I know very well how hard it is to wait, having had to wait myself. Your grandfather had to wait too, just like you, since he was born on Halloween. Do you think it pleased him, having to sit around *another* year before getting into Hogwarts? He did it and he’s a strong man.” “Oh, like a squib? I’m sure Peter would have a few choice words to rebut that argument. Shall I take you to London and see what he has to say?” Refusing to budge an inch, Astra shuts her eyes briefly and emits a small sight. “I’m sure the Headmistress will have plenty to say on the subject, but I’m just as sure that she *will not* break these rules for the both of you. Not because I have some vision, which I don’t, but because in all the time Hogwarts has been around no *one* has come to school earlier than their peers, it simply isn’t done.”

“Have you seen them trying those easy spells in the halls?!” he asks Satinka, exasperatedly. “I saw a little girl the other day fail at casting a simple cheering charm! She was going it all wrong. I haven’t even taken a charms class and I probably could have conjured up something better than what she was doing. Honestly, mum, at this rate, we’ll be able to take the first year finals at the end of next semester and skip straight to second year.” Even if Seker is vastly exaggerating, his expression doesn’t show it. “Our peers are already here,” he mutters as his response to all his mother has said as he looks down a little. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up the comparison to a squib, but it truly was how he felt. “We could… we could be the first? The first ones sorted at ten,” he almost asks, one last fleeting stab at what he knows, now, to be the impossible.

“Why can’t we start early, mum? Honestly! Do you mean to tell us that muggle children never start school earlier than they’re supposed to?” Satinka sighs, trying to remember where she might have read something like that. “We’re sending the letter to Professor Hargrove. Maybe she will actually listen.” Satinka sniffs a bit, wishing her mother would be more understanding about the situation. “Please? Why can’t we be the first ones who do it?” The girl fights her lip pushing out in protest, thinking of some way to convince her, as Astra has already shot down all of their list.

It may be the impossible, but the thought and time put into this debate pleases Astra and she stretches her legs out over the edge of the chair and removes the book from her lap. Extending her hands, she reaches out to her children but doesn’t pull them close unless *they* decide they want to be held. “I’m very proud of the both of you. You’re both making a stand for what you want and expressing yourself in an adult fashion. It isn’t bad to state what you want or try to succeed. I want you both to know that. However, this goal is simply not going to happen.” Chuckling softly, “You send that letter and we’ll see what happens, but even if you don’t get in, we will be setting you up come Halloween.”

“What do you mean, ‘set us up’? Are we getting wands, mum?” Seker asks, putting both hands on his head in excitement. “Finally! And what about owls? I can send things to Clavicle and Rafe without having to look for them myself!” Looking happily to Satinka, he asks, “What’re you going to name yours? I haven’t decided on a name yet, but it’s going to be something marvelous!” Temporarily consoled about not being let into Hogwarts early, Seker looks at Astra as he continues with, “although, what’s the point of having wands if we’re not allowed to use them?” The boy looks suddenly a bit deflated at this. It’d only make the waiting harder.

“No, really, Mum? Are we?” The girl’s eyes light up and she throws her arms around Astra’s neck. “Can’t we get them this summer? At least then we would feel like we were going to school soon!” The girl looks immensely pleased. “I hope we can go to school next year. I want to show those other students that I can do it better than them.” Satinka giggles loudly, hugging Astra’s neck again, tossing her blonde curls happily. “Let’s send the letter to Professor Hargrove immediately!”

“You two send your letter, but I’m not going to outfit you for school until your birthday.” Winking, Astra‘s deviant nature snakes its head out, “Imagine going to the wand maker when there is no other students vying for the attention of the shopkeeper. You’d have all the time in the world to test wands out. I imagine neither of you will have normal wands.” Hugging Satinka, she grins wicked, “Now why on earth would I make sure you both have wands and make you wait nearly a year. Hmm. I wonder.” She doesn’t say anything more, but her intention is evident.