“Good evening”, says the new arrival while pushing the door closed against the Wintry murk and gusts of dank wind, dry voice carrying the languid tones of the upper crust of society. Doffing a rain-slick hat to let water slide off the brim onto the entrance mat, the stranger tucks a silver-headed cane under one arm and unfastens the damp overcoat. Beneath is revealed an expensively tailored suit at the cutting edge of Muggle elegance and good taste. Returning the hat to its proper place, the blonde-haired Muggle-alike moves further into the shop, pale gaze roaming over the array of confectionery before settling upon the nearest apparent staff-member.  “I don’t suppose you have anything that would be… safe to be seen by members of the mundane population, do you?”

“Hello, hello!” Eva greets the customer, slightly distracted as she seems to be almost juggling some ledger books. She glances at Mariot and gives only a slightly confused look at his attire before shaking off the confusion and beaming brightly at him. “The mundane population?” she repeats quietly, puzzling for a moment before it occurs to her what he means. “Ah! I have some truffles that are fairly innocuous, and perhaps some failed batches that didn’t take to their magical properties. What kinds of sweets were you looking for? Are these for a muggle, or do you just want them to resemble muggle sweets? Have to be careful, you know. Secrecy and all that.” Eva rolls her eyes at this comment, as if it is a terrible and frequent inconvenience to her, though she could not reasonably argue that this is the case.

The elegant figure inclines its head to Eva, lips quirking into a gentle smile. “The gift would be for a wizard-born child with non-magical relatives. I would like to provide my nephew with something he can appreciate as magical, while avoiding coming to the attention of any of my Ministry colleagues as the responsible party behind a breach of secrecy. I travel, so I can perhaps present something “unusual” as being the latest in foreign confectionery to his mundane family, so long as it is not too… unsubtle in its effects.”

“We can work around that, as long as he knows to be careful about when he eats the sweets.” Eva drops the pile of ledger books fairly loudly onto her desk behind the counter, then saunters out into her own candy lobby to join her customer. “We have, of course truffles. I have some leftover candy canes that lost their color changing, but they still fizz a bit, and, hmm… no exploding bonbons. Perhaps some toothflossing stringmints, or maybe the sherbets. He’d hover for a little while but used in moderation they wouldn’t be terribly noticable. He would have to be responsible with them, of course – not eat them in front of muggles other than his parents. Do you think he would be able to do that?” Eva pulls a few of the mentioned sweets off of the shelves, presenting each for inspection as she moves on to the next.

Mariot eyes the array of sweets with clear interest, a slight smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “Perhaps just a couple of the more dramatic sweets, so that he has something to enjoy in private, but not enough that he’ll get bored and risk using them before witnesses. And rather more of the subtle ones to make the present more than a token gesture….? I trust him a certain amount, but he is young, and magic is still rather new to him….”

“You know your nephew best. What do you think he would enjoy most? Some chocolates, or perhaps the more sugary sweets like the ice mice or the bertie botts beans? Those are always a good stand-by.” Eva pauses to pull out a moderately-sized box of the beans and shows them to Mariot. “Some children quite enjoy the licorice wands, or perhaps the sugar quills. Those are very tame sweets but would at least get him used to some of the things he’ll be using later.” Eva pauses for a moment to reach over the counter for a basket to help her hold the myriad of sweets that she’s pulling off of the shelves as examples.

Mariot offers Eva a somewhat apologetic, grateful smile. “I apologise. I’m…somewhat unused to this. He’s not been old enough to receive magic before, at least not from his disreputable aunt…. “The wands, I think, might be appreciated. Some conventional chocolates that he might be able to share with his family without worry… and perhaps a handful of those levitating sweets you mentioned?”

Eva nods concisely, startling a bit as an explosion occurs from the back room. “Sorry, sorry! Everything is fine!” a voice calls out and Eva shrugs off the minor interruption without comment. “So, some sherbet balls,” she murmurs, taking a few out and placing them into the basket, “Some chocolate wands, and a few of the truffles.” Quickly, the woman assembles the order, retrieving one a bag with two Cs emblazoned on the front in a bold white, while the bag itself is blue and purple striped. Not bothering to put back any of the sweets that she has displaced to show Mariot, she steps around the counter to the register. The register makes a loud CHUNK noise each time she presses one of the keys. She quotes the price to Mariot with a smile. “You’re sure you won’t have anything for yourself?” she teases gently.

Having pretended not to notice the backroom explosion, the androgynous woman darts a glance towards the rain-rattled shop windows, then laughs softly. “I admit that it does seem to be weather to make one think of treating oneself…. What would you suggest? I am afraid that most of my own exposure to chocolate has been mundane. Goods like those you sell here were… rare gifts.”

Eva chuckles quietly. “Well, Maura has been experimenting with some truffles. Here are some milk chocolate ones with spicy cinnamon which heats your mouth, then follows with mint and a cooling agent. My particular favorites are these multi-fruit truffles which have a different flavor with each bite. Maura has managed to get them to taste very much like the real fruits, with the advantage of a dark chocolate shell to accent the taste of the various fruits.” Eva looks at her collection, pondering over which might be the best choices to share. “You might also like These chocolate and caramel pumpkin bars – sweetened bits of pumpkin, layered with caramel and then pumpkin.” Eva leans forward and whispers in a conspiratory way, “These are my particular favorites of her experiments – I haven’t told her but they have a kind of tangy zing to them that makes the tongue actually tingle with vibrations. It’s a beautiful experience.” She leans back again with a light laugh. “Of course it’s ultimately up to you what you’d like. My recommendations count for little in the scheme of things.” Eva ends her statement with a quick wink.

Laughing and shaking her head, Mariot can’t help but grin broadly at the shop-owner. “Your enthusiasm is… impressive. I fear that I might have to ensure that I do not become too frequent a customer here…. But… why not? I’ll take a little of each of your recommendations. I can only hope that I don’t enjoy them too much…”

“It is my shop and my livelihood,” Eva answers with a vague shrug. “The idea, of course, is that you do enjoy them enough to come back. Keeps me in business, you know! So, what suits your fancy?” Eva reaches down below the counter to pull up a tray full of the varieties of truffles that the shop offers. “Would you like to try one, just to see what you’d like, or shall I assemble a variety for your surprise?”

“Ahhhh. I’d wondered if you were the owner, or merely an enthused convert to the wonders of confectionery….” Mariot grins, then nods slowly. “Oh, I think that the surprise selection sounds appealing. So long as I can work out which one is which for any future orders, it could prove enlightening.”

Eva begins to pick out a variety of truffles and other chocolates to place into yet another bag decorated with the Cordial Confections logo. “If you have any trouble knowing which is which, just describe it to us and we can sort it out. Not to mention, I’ve a very smart register in here, if you come in often enough, it will remember the things that you ordered.” Eva grins as she says this, bundling up the chocolates and removing the tray down into the display case where it had previously been. She starts to press the buttons on the register again, adding this new assortment to the other, then quoting a new price.

Mariot blinks, shooting the register a rather surprised look – before cracking another grin. “I have the impression that it might need to remember the habits of a fair number of people. You seem to operate your business with a passion that might well prove infectious…”

“Oh, well, it doesn’t remember forever – that’s why you have to come in often enough. It has a better memory than I have sometimes, and usually between the two of us we can get fairly close to what a customer liked before.” Eva grins broadly. “I don’t think someone lacking passion would have the necessary fortitude and patience to survive a day here in the days leading up to the start of school at Hogwarts. I can tell you the shop is a mad house those days. Perhaps it’s the infectious passion. I tend to think it’s just the sweets.” She winks.

Mariot blinks again, then laughs. “Rather you than me, I fear. I try to avoid the Alley entirely at that time of year, and can’t begin to imagine what this place must be like when there are so many school-children passing through…. Is it as chaotic at the end of term, or do they tend to be eager to return home?”

“There’s less waiting when they come home. I’ll have the occasional family, but most would rather go home than loiter in the shops.” The two smaller bags are packed into a bigger, easier to handle bag and Eva shrugs. “It’s my lot in life as a confectioner – children will be in to browse and buy as much as their parents will. I can’t say that I mind all that much, though. It would be hypocritical of me.” The woman sighs quietly then grins at her customer.

Mariot cocks her head, shooting Eva a distinctly quizzical look in response to that sight. “You sound as if you rather decidedly enjoy the chaos of your shop being filled with children”, she observes with a smile. “If it’s not too rude – do you have any of your own, to try to keep from eating nothing but your creations?”

“I can’t say that I enjoy the chaos of children, but it’s a necessity to court them. They’re big money-spenders when it comes to candy. I much prefer the adult clientele, though. They’re more likely to make thoughtful comments regarding the quality and less likely to leave sticky fingerprints everywhere.” Eva barely manages not to sneer at the thought of the messes, but then shakes her hand dismissively regarding it. “I do have children – nine, in fact. The oldest girls start at Hogwarts this September. Being as they’ve grown up around the shop, they know better than to ask for candy if I haven’t offered it. I’ve had a sweets shop since before they were born, so we managed alright with the kids.”

Mariot chuckles, wincing and shaking her head at the thought of chocolate-sticky fingers everywhere… before looking rather startled at Eva’s revelation of the size of her family. “Nine? And all younger than Hogwarts-age? Good grief. How on Earth do you find the time to operate a business?”, she asks, clearly more than a touch impressed.

“Oh, my husband cares for them full-time. I come from a big family, so we all help one another out when we need. It’s not been an issue, really. I spend a lot of my time at work, so I can assure you it isn’t the least bit overwhelming for me. My husband seems to manage spectacularly, too. He’s not crazy yet.” Eva gives another wink and places the double package down onto the counter. “Have you many nieces and nephews other than this one?” the woman inquires casually.

Mariot can’t help but continue to look impressed, as Eva describes her familial situation in more detail. “Me? No, no. I am afraid that your household is larger than my entire family. And I can hardly imagine having children myself, I confess. I fear that I would be an absolute disaster as a parent…”

“That’s okay, too,” Eva murmurs and then chuckles a bit. “You’ll have to come back soon then and maybe you can meet some of mine. Quell any urge that might be lurking. I imagine it might do the trick! Perhaps you could bring your nephew. My oldest three love to help out around the shop – I suspect because of the new friends they make.” The woman laughs a bit, then shakes her head. “Well, I seem to have forgotten your purpose today!” she restates the total and laughs again. “It’s a good thing you came during a lull. We might have some irate customers on our hands otherwise, standing and chatting like this.”

Mariot delves inside her jacket to withdraw a wallet, from which she extracts payment as she talks. “For my part, the Ministry can do without me, easily enough…. My nephew is old enough to be shown the Alley now, I think. I shall have to bring him here, when next he is in London. And from the sound of it, your children appear rather well-behaved – would they truly put anyone off the thought of having offspring of their own?”

“Only by sheer volume, I assure you. Nine children in one room is enough to put anyone off having some of their own!” Eva chuckles. “I tell you, it has for me.” She winks and finishes the transaction at the till. “If you let me know ahead of time when you expect to be here, I’ll make sure at least my oldest are here in the shop with me. They do enjoy helping, but I can’t always afford to have their type of, er, help. If you know what I mean.” Eva gives a vaguely helpless shrug. “Is there anything else that I can get for you today?” she asks, flinching only slightly as another loud BANG occurs in the back room.

Mariot’s amused laugh is interrupted by another flinch of her own, accompanied by a glance towards that apparently-busy back room. “It sounds as if I should let you return to supervisory duties”, she says with a smile, reaching for the package. “But thank you for all your help. I suspect that you can look forward to some repeat custom in future…”

“It happens all the time, but I had better check that Maura’s alright. Enjoy your sweets. Do come again soon,” Eva tells Mariot before waving to her. Just a moment later, she disappears into the back room. There is shuffling and commotion in the back room as Eva start to help putting to rights whatever it is that occurred in there, letting Mariot take her exit of her own accord.

It’s the beginning of the school year, a couple days since the Sorting Ceremony. Edern has been in an exceptionally good mood, having been made Head Boy. Although he’s been busy with additional duties now. He’s taken a bit of time to just read in the courtyard while the weather is still nice and cooperation.

Her nose basically buried in the pages of a rather old-looking tome with some sort of ornately dressed spinning woman on the front, Seraphina doesn’t notice anyone else as she makes herway into the courtyard from the nearby gardens. She doesn’t notice at all that she has bumped directly into a fourth year on her way in, nor does she apologise for the lack of consideration. Whoops. It is only after she plops down onto a bench that she happens to glance up and notice Edern at which point her cheeks acquire their beet red hue, likely to stay there for the rest of the interaction (however little there may be) and very likely beyond.

Edern Fallon shakes his head and sighs. “I’ll never understand the how scale colour can effect the heat of a dragon’s breath!” He shrugs lightly. “This is what I get for taking NEWT level Care of Magical Creatures!” He snorts a little. Glances up to see Seraphina. He smiles. “Sera!” He calls out to her, waving. “How are you? And what’s that horribly big book that you’re reading?”

Seraphina Pryor is stunned beyond belief. Edern addressing her directly? Edern Fallon is talking to her? Seraphina‘s eyes get large as she raises her hand in a weak greeting as she opens her mouth to speak. At first, nothing comes out. Silence. “I–it’s called ‘The Dancing Darkness’ she tells him in more of a croak than in normal speech. Questions beg to be asked, not to mention the simple statements that her tongue begs to form (‘I love you!’), but Sera seems to be incapable, for the moment, of further engaging speech.

Edern Fallon smiles at Sera as he awaits her response to the question. “The Dancing Darkness? Sounds like an interesting book. What’s it all about? It isn’t a book of dark spells is it?” He says, jokingly, with a grin on his face. He tilts his head. He most likely, doesn’t have such questions or statements lingering in his mind towards Seraphina. But she seems nice. If not a bit quiet and often red faced…at least when he’s around, it seems.

“Well, it’s… uh… it’s about this witch. She likes to dance, but there’s… a lot of stuff making it hard. That’s… the darkness,” Seraphina finishes her explanation lamely as she looks down at the book and blushes harder. “It’s uh… well, what are you reading?” Her attempts to change the course of conversation are obvious, but being as the girl’s mental faculties seem to be compromised, it’s probably to be expected.

Edern Fallon nods ever so slightly at the explanation. “The darkness being the obstacles are the darkness because they stop her from doing the thing that she loves to do? That sounds like an interesting book.” He says nodding once more. He shrugs. “Sounds a lot interesting that what I’m reading, anyway.” He looks at the cover. “‘Dragons: A Comprehensive Study On the Biology of Dragons’. Needless to say, I need to read this for my Care of Magical Creatures class.” He shrugs. “Nothing that can be done by it really.”

“Dragons are very interesting!” Seraphina squeaks, glancing over at him only momentarily before she returns her eyes to the ground. “I’m no good at tending to creatures. They don’t like me,” is her quick excuse, which barely makes it out of her mouth before a girl decked out in more red and yellow than the average student chooses to wear runs up to her in tears. “Seraaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” the small Gryffindor cries, hurling herself onto her older sister’s lap and grasping her tight, much to Seraphina‘s dismay. “What do you want, Ona?” she hisses, hoping that Edern won’t be put off by a sniffly second year.

Edern Fallon chuckles, shrugging. “Oh yeah, they’re mighty interesting, but the stuff it talks about is not easy for anyone to understand, I’d imagine. Let alone me. But I guess that’s why the teacher’s having us read it, eh?” He grins. “Oh, I’m sure the creatures like you. I’ll take you out to meet some strange and wonderful creatures during the year and help you out with that, if you want.” He says, hopefully sounding sincere. As the smaller Gryffindor runs up and makes a seat for herself on Seraphina’s lap, crying, he furrows his brow, looking concerned. He closes up the book, puts it in his bag and slowly makes his way over to where the two are. “Hey there.” He says to Ona. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just my sister,” Seraphina hisses looking slightly annoyed as her sister clings. “Alastriona, what do you need?” she asks the girl testily, and briefly the youngster raises her head to blink her ruddy face at the older boy. Following this is a string of whiny, high-pitched nothingness which is, apparently, supposed to be the summation of the girl’s troubles. All this is punctuated with, “I can’t believe she did that to meeeeeee!” Sera sighs in annoyance as her sister has ruined what she views to be the perfect moment alone with the object of her affections.

Edern Fallon raises an eyebrow and kneels down in front of Seraphina and her sister. “I’m sorry…I didn’t seem to catch all of that. Who did what to you? If somebody has done something wrong, you can tell me.” He points out his Head Boy pin. “I’m the Head Boy.” As if that says it all. “I’ll have a talk with whoever it is.”

“You’re the head boy? Are you my sister’s friend?” the girl asks, punctuating it with a loud sniff. Alastriona looks up at her sister with wide eyes, then back at Edern, while Seraphina‘s only expression at this development seems to be annoyance. “It’s Stacie Perkins. She told me that she would give me her lion goblet if I helped her with her assignment, and then I did and she told me that she wasn’t going to give it to me and anyway it doesn’t exist. She made it up!” Seraphina barely manages to suppress a scoff at this, though she doesn’t make any real efforts to dislodge the girl, either.

Edern Fallon smiles up at Seraphina, nodding a little. “Yes. My name is Edern Fallon. Your sister and I are both in Slytherin.” He says. “Stacie Perkins promised she’d give you her lion cup and then told you she made it up? Well, that wasn’t very good of her, now was it. I’ll tell ya what…I might be able to get you a lion cup. I can’t make any firm promises. But I think I can.” He smiles, look back from Alastriona to Seraphina, giving her a ‘Give you sister a bit of a break, please’ kind of look.

“Oh.” is all Alastriona manages to say as she continues to sniff in a pathetic fashion, still clinging to Seraphina, who has refrained, at least for the moment, from shoving her sister to the ground. “A lion cup? A real lion cup? It would be perfect in my dorm room!” The petite girl’s eyes get somewhat large and she pushes a lock of blonde hair out of her face as she seems to perk up just a bit. “Aren’t all the lion figurines enough, Ona?” Seraphina asks with slight irritation in her voice.

Edern Fallon smiles at Alastriona. “Oh yes, a real lion cup. One that roars too! Would that be good? I bet that’ll beat Miss Perkins’ imaginary lion cup any day!” He chuckles. “You know, Sera, you can never get enough lion stuff if you’re in Gryffindor. Just like everything to do with snakes in Slytherin.” He takes out his wand, and looking back at Sera’s sister, he says, “I’m going to try to make the cup now. Let’s see if I can remember the spell now…” He focuses firmly, at takes a solid grip on his wand. He starts to wave it around, muttering a spell under his breath. After a few seconds there’s a small ‘pop’ sound, and hovering in the air, there is a gold coloured cup. Protruding from the front of the cup is a face of a lion. “Now…just one more little charm…” He does a quick little wave and spell. Taking grasp of the floating cup, he points his wand at the nose of the lion. “Roar!” He says, just before it lets out a very might roar indeed. He holds out the cup to Ala
striona. “There ya have it.” He smiles kindly.

“OH MY GRACIOUS ME!” Alastriona shrieks as Seraphina stares, unable to comment as she sees magic beyond her own skill performed. “How did you do that?” Seraphina breathes, her awkwardness seeming to fade away as she examines it. “I’m terrible with charms,” she admits as her sister holds the cup and marvels over it, not for its magical ability but for its lion…y-ness. “Thank you, Edern!” the girl almost sings as she hurls herself toward him with the intent to envelop him in a hug.

Edern Fallon shrugs a litte, smiling at Alastroina. “A mixture of charms and stuff of that like. Sorta transfiguration too. Very difficult spells though. Maybe you’ll learn them some day.” He can’t help but grin. “Charms is easy enough, I guess. It’s just not everyone’s thing, eh?” But then…this is the Seventh Year Head Boy who got an O on his Charms OWLs. He doesn’t exactly push the younger Pryor away…but he seems a little awkward and unsure at the hug. He gives her a few small pats on the back. When she does let go, he says, “Now, to make it roar, you press your wand up to it’s nose, like I did, and simply say ‘Roar!’ and it will give the best lion-like roar you ever did hear.”

“Stacie’s going to be soooo jealous! She doesn’t have a lion cup, you know.” The girl grins impishly before thanking him one more time then running off as quickly as she first appeared. Seraphina watches her sister go, a little stunned at the speed of her exit. “‘Bye,” she mutters quietly, then the blush comes back into her face as she realizes once again who she is sitting with. “Sorry about that,” she tells Edernquietly, looking down at her lap.

Edern Fallon nods firmly. “Oh, very jealous. I mean, I’m even jealous now! I wish I had a cup like that!” He grins as she runs off. “Bye now!” He calls after her. He smiles at Seraphina. “Oh, don’t be quiet. You’re sister is a nice girl. She just wanted a lion cup is all. And now that she does, she’s as happy as she can be. “I was just glad that I could help.”

“She always has to be the center of attention,” Seraphina mutters. “There’s always something that’s tragic or exciting or something…” The young woman sighs a bit and clutches her book to her. “It was very nice of you, though.” She smiles to a bit, then looks down at her lap again. “I don’t remember what we were talking about,” she admits quietly.

Edern Fallon snorts lightly. “Well there always is something tragic or exciting at that age. Believe me. I’ve got a sister too. Only we’re triplets. But I know what it’s like to have a sister like that. It will pass, I’m sure it will. If not, maybe she’ll have to learn some lessons the hard way, but that’s fine.” He says with a light smile. “It wasn’t much of a problem, not really. It was an honour to help one of the Pryor line.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “You know, in all the excitement, I don’t think I remember what we were talking about either.”

“Yes, well, I suppose that’s normal.” Seraphina concedes. “I wasn’t like that, I can tell you, though.” Seraphina looks around the courtyard somewhat uncertainly for a moment. She opens her mouth to speak, though she still looks uncertain as to what she’s going to say, when a large raindrop falls nearly into her eye. “Oh – oh, that’s no good. I need to take this book inside. It was… it was nice talking to you,” she says quietly before dashing off quickly into the castle, much in the fashion of her younger sister, and she’s gone without a further word.

Edern Fallon smiles softly, shaking his head. “No, of course you weren’t. Wouldn’t think of it.” He laughs. He holds out his hand as the rain drop falls in her eye. “Oh…yes…it does seem to be beginning to rain.” He smiles and nods. “Of course, see you around. And my offer for helping you with school or anything else is still open.” And she’s off, and he stands slowly, making his way back into the school.

It’s a cool afternoon, and while the sun peeks out from behind the clouds beyond the windows of the Witch Weekly office, a light shower of rain spatters against the windows. In the office itself, people seem to be running the full spectrum from happy as a clam and perfectly relaxed to anxious and very possibly about to explode under the stress. Kelly Wexler, moving quickly through the office, seems to be somewhere between the two – almost perfectly so, one might think, until they notice the set of her jaw and the colour in her cheeks, betraying her feelings rather more. As she nears one desk, she clears her throat pointedly and calls out imperiously, “You can’t ignore your messages forever, you need to go down front and pick up your delivery. There’s currently a pile of – of whatever it is you write about, sitting in the foyer.” Presumably, whoever she is addressing knows who they are, for she doesn’t bother to give them a name or even more details. She stands for a moment, her arms folded, waiting for whoever it is to show some sign that they’ve understood her instruction.

“No, no, Chrissy, don’t play with that. Those are mummy’s important papers.” Olivia Geroff seems to be attempting to juggle more than any witch or wizard should attempt, particularly on a vaguely sunny day when all small children yearn to be acquiring grass stains. As Kelly bustles through, Olivia is briefly startled. “Hullo to you as well,” she greets the young woman calmly, though the pseudo-tirade is not at all directed toward her. Liv’s foot steadily rocks a small crib at the side of her desk and she adds a bit of a flourish to the end of a sentence. “Would you mind staying for a moment? I need an opinion about something. It’s just not coming right.”

For a moment, Kelly pays Olivia no mind, just staring down whomever it is that belongs to the so-called ‘whatever’ in the foyer. A moment later, it seems to register that someone is speaking to her, but she turns and nods slightly to Olivia with a vague attempt at a smile. “I have a moment, but -” a paper swan glides through the air, stopping next to her shoulder as she talks, but she pays it no mind, “in ten minutes, Miriam’s got a meeting with the advertisers, and she may need me to pick up any important messages for her.” Yes, in the four years she’s spent with the magazine, she’s stepped up from generic grunt work to very specific grunt work – someone’s personal assistant.

“Oh, alright,” Olivia almost stammers. “Well, it’s just this. I’m trying to write about the Ministry attack, something counter to the derogatory and sensationalist blather that’s always in the Daily Prophet about it. There’s just something missing from this one line here.” She clears her throat and is about to speak when Jason seems to take it into his head that she is a climbing gym. “Not now, sweetums. Why don’t you play pat-a-cake with Chris?” Jason is distracted, at least momentarily, and Olivia re-clears her throat. “‘As for the sensational claims of various unnamed newspapers, one has to wonder about the caliber of the the writers and reporters there, if all that can come of their so-called meticulous research is a list of trumped-up ways in which the Ministry is directly responsible for the attack on its own building.’” Olivia‘s passion about the subject at hand is clear as she finishes this one sentence from the already quite long article. She pauses. “It’s just not coming out right. I just can’t think how to change it for improvement.”

“For a start,” Kelly replies carefully, her brow creasing in consideration, “you should – well, I’ll be honest,” she sighs heavily like this is taking altogether too much effort, and continues, “there’s one major problem. It’s going to be completely obvious to everyone who reads it that you’re talking about The Daily Prophet, which opens up all the writers there who have spoken about the incident to claims of libel against you… or at the very least, they’re going to be very unhappy with you, which means that any future collaborations between Witch Weekly and the Daily Prophet are going to be more tense.” She takes a deep breath before she adds, “Plus, you can’t just say that they’re wrong without refuting them in some way. Can you refute them? Besides, people like learning about conspiracies. Otherwise it’s just boring.” The paper swan begins to tap her on the shoulder, as though to remind her that it is there, but she pays it no mind.

“Well, of course I’ll provide evidence. I’m not going to just make an unsubstantiated claim and expect the Witch Weekly readers to trust me.” She pauses a moment. “Besides, it hasn’t only been the Daily Prophet. Other publications have done the same – or worse. How are the writers at the Prophet to know I’m not talking about the other publications more than the Prophet?” Olivia taps her quill against a blotter for a moment in further consideration. “I suppose you’re right, though. It is boring. That’s what the problem is.” Olivia‘s mind seems to be working on overload to the point that she only barely notices that Chris is tugging on the sleeve of her robe. The little boy murmurs something that sounds like “Cwakkss,” and she nods briefly. “There’s a bin of crackers in your bag. Share them with Jason.” She turns her attention to Kelly again, totally missing the fact that the young woman is not a reporter but, in fact, a specialized messenger. “Perhaps if I reworked this as a spotlight on one of the higher-ups in the Ministry. I couldn’t showcase Sylv– er, the Minister, of course, but perhaps another higher-up…” Olivia trails off as she allows this thought to germinate a bit more.

“Is anyone having a sordid affair?” Kelly replies with interest, tapping her finger against her chin thoughtfully as she considers this. “That could be interesting. Oh, you know what would be especially exciting?” She smiles brightly at this point, “What if one of the high-ups in the Ministry was actually not at work that day, but – no, he was on his lunch break and at his mistress’s house, and when the explosion occurred – now that’s a story for you!” She nods her head firmly as if to confirm that her idea is actually quite wonderful, and it’s only now that she finally grabs the swan out of the air. She doesn’t open it or try to determine the purpose, though, just shoves it in her pocket.

Staring blankly at Kelly for a moment, Olivia slowly shakes her head. “The people who read my column probably wouldn’t want something like that. It sounds like something that belongs on the back page amidst the adverts. After all, we’re not trying to run a trash magazine.” Olivia bites her lip a bit. “I’ll talk to my mother-in-law. Perhaps she’ll have some ideas for someone that I can interview for a story. I think I’ll call it something to do with the ‘Mess’ at the Ministry. Clever integration into my column. My editor won’t be able to refuse at least.” Olivia‘s mind seems eased a bit as she dumps the parchment on which she has been attempting to scribble out the not-very-good article into the dustbin. “Er, don’t you think you should check to see what that was for?” she asks carefully, gesturing vaguely toward the pocket which houses the insistent swan.

“If it’s true, it’s not trashy,” Kelly objects, shrugging her shoulders. “The readers may not want the full details of his sordid affair, but they want something a little more interesting than ‘I think the not-the-Daily Prophet-I-swear is too sensationalist’.” She pauses for a moment, “And speaking of adverts, it’s probably just about the meeting today that Miriam – is that her name? I think it begins with an ‘M’ anyway – has with the advertisers. It can wait.”

Olivia says, “Oh, alright. As long as it isn’t pressing,” Olivia concedes. “I think a personal spotlight would be plenty interesting for the readers. Even without the scandal revealed from someone’s personal tragedy, I feel confident that readers will respond positively to it. Besides, I doubt it would be as simple as someone being out of the office at the wrong time that caused this to happen.” She pauses and shakes her had, running her hand over Jason’s head, who does not even acknowledge her, so distracted is he playing Cracker Quidditch with Chris. “You’re right that a spotlight of some kind is better than something purely politically motivated, no matter how well-meant.”"

“Oh, alright. As long as it isn’t pressing,” Olivia concedes. “I think a personal spotlight would be plenty interesting for the readers. Even without the scandal revealed from someone’s personal tragedy, I feel confident that readers will respond positively to it. Besides, I doubt it would be as simple as someone being out of the office at the wrong time that caused this to happen.” She pauses and shakes her had, running her hand over Jason’s head, who does not even acknowledge her, so distracted is he playing Cracker Quidditch with Chris. “You’re right that a spotlight of some kind is better than something purely politically motivated, no matter how well-meant.”

“Thank you.” And it’s true – Kelly practically glows as her idea is complimented. “And it may not have caused anything but – human interest, that’s the one, eh?” Almost without thinking, she reaches into her pocket and unfolds the crumpled paper swan, reading it critically before observing, “Oh, tomorrow’s photoshoot has been postponed until eleven. I’ll need to pass that on. Do you have a quill?”

Olivia stretches her left hand out, with which she has been absentmindedly tapping her quill on the aforementioned blotter, offering it to Kelly. “So, is this your function here? Do you generally… manage things? Messages and such?” Olivia seems genuinely curious, and her demeanor toward Kelly seems to point toward the two never having had an altercation in their past, or even having really met.

Kelly‘s awkward hand skitters across the remnants of the paper swan as she writes herself a note not to forget to pass the message on. She’s silent in response to Olivia’s question as she does this, but she looks up with a faint smile, sticking the swan back in her pocket and the quill behind her ear. “In a manner of speaking,” she replies carefully. Then, a moment passes, and she shrugs her shoulders. Apparently, she’s resigned to not being a very good liar. “Well, mostly one person’s messages. But they’re important messages.”

“Well, that’s important. Somebody has to do it. Goodness knows that I’d never get any messages if someone didn’t get them to me. There’s no way I could leave these two alone for a second or they’d find someone’s wand and cause trouble.” Olivia purses her lips a bit as she glances down at the now sleepy-looking boys and then to the sleeping infant whose crib she is still gently rocking. “We all have to start somewhere, too, don’t we?” Olivia attempts a casual smile, but is still a bit awkward at social interaction, though the young woman is markedly better at it than she was while in school.

“At least I don’t have to go and get everyone lunch anymore,” Kelly observes quietly, and though her tone is quite nonchalant, her skin flushes faintly pink. This fades after a moment, though, and her snappy and imperious manner returns. “In any case… human interest, I’m fairly sure that’s the key, here.” She kicks at the ground with one foot before continuing, “Everywhere else is covering the politics, Witch Weekly readers are more about the domestics and the gossip and the stories of the boy born with three arms who can cast spells with any of them… well, the true ones, anyway.”

“I can understand that it would be a marked job improvement,” Olivia agrees with a nod. “Human interest is the key – it is. Though… I must have missed the feature on the three-armed boy.” It is at this moment that Chris lets out a rather loud shriek, and Olivia, her face turning a rather dark red, reaches down to pick him up. “I think it must be nearing n-a-p time,” she tells Kelly quietly. “The boys are getting cranky.” At this, she stands and begins to gather her things together, using her wand to do most of the difficult work (not an easy task when one is holding a sleepy four-year-old). “Thank you for your help. I do really appreciate it. I think the article will be quite good if I approach it the right way.” She smiles to Kelly slowly, setting Chris down in her own chair as she starts to pack the infant into a backpack like carrier before slinging a bag over her shoulder. Once she has retrieved her two small boys, Olivia looks rather more like a hiker than a woman.

“We all have things to be getting on with,” Kelly confirms in her most business-like manner, and as if to confirm this fact, she pulls another piece of parchment from her pocket, on which she has scrawled a To-Do list of sorts. Most of it is fairly menial things, but at least she has things to do. “Feel free to ask me for any more advice on that article – oh, and this is your quill,” she pulls the quill out from behind her ear and lays it down on the desk again. “As for the three-armed boy, well, I think some trash-sheet actually covered that one, but if there had been some proof… we would have been on it.” She winks, then turns to leave and go about her business.

Taking the opportunity to leave before her coworkers get more angry at her for the uncommon noise disturbance, Olivia sneaks away from her desk. “I’ll be sure to do that,” she tells Kelly quietly before turning and heading out of the office, destined for her own home where she will attend to the all-important task of nap time.

As the train begins filling up with students Remi Amsel peers into compartment three having had his luggage loaded aboard. The boy decides the car is up to his standards and he sidles in stowing his things before sitting down. Peculiarly Remi is clutching a small stuffed bear to his chest as he stares out of the window watching his mother’s look of horror as witches and wizards walk by in their strange clothes acting strange, to a muggle like her anyway. The boy waves reluctantly to her though she doesn’t seem to see him and so Remi turns away and shrugs.

“Is it this way? Oh, it’s this way!” Josie Wexler calls loudly to her sister – more loudly than is strictly necessary, as she ducks into the second compartment on the train. “Only one person in here, Essie, we’re lucky!” The young girl holds a young cat hostage in her arm as she drags her trunk behind her. “Here, Merpurr, you sit here,” she tells the cat, plunking him down onto the seat to her right before she begins stowing her trunk. Her twin sister – in birth but not in appearance – comes in just behind her, the cage of an owl perched on her own trunk as she follows Josie‘s movements much more quietly. It is only after their trunks are sufficiently stowed that Josie turns to Remi. “Hi. Are you going to be a first year? My sister and I are, too. My name is Josie. Well, it’s Josephine Elizabeth Wexler, and this is my sister Estelle Bidelia Wexler. You can call her Essie, though. I go by Josie. What’s your name?”

Turning when he hears the two girl enter Remi straightens a little in his seat. He watches Josie, the one who seems to be doing all the talking of the two for a moment and then to her cat and then of course to her twin. He sits rather quietly while the two of them stow and it seems as though he is content not to greet them for as long as they wish to ignore him. But of course Josie then begins to speak to him and the plan is monkey wrenched, so to speak. “Yeah. It’s my first time.” He says clutching the bear a little tighter. He nods to Josie and then to Estelle. “My name is Remi Amsel.”

“We’re all going to be in Hogwarts together! Isn’t that grand?” Josie beams as she plops down onto the seat next to her cat and starts to cuddle him. The cat appears to be used to this already and settles himself down in her lap, purring happily as he begins to nap. Estelle sits down as well, setting her owl’s cage down next to her. “What house do you think you’ll be in?” Essie’s much quieter voice comes as she studie’s Remi’s face.

“Yeah …. grand.” Comes Remi‘s much less enthusiastic response to more talkative sister. He doesn’t exactly seem annoyed, but more overwhelmed by suddenly being thrust into a social situation like this. He looks to Estelle. “House? I thought we were going to a school?” And in one question Remi reveals that not only is he a muggle born but he also has not bothered to read Hogwarts A History. “I thought we were on our way to learn how to do magic?” Remi looks at Estelle and then Josie, a puzzled expression on his face.

“We are going to school…” Josie states, her face blank, as if she doesn’t quite understand what Remi is getting at. There’s a moment of silence before Essie realizes that he doesn’t know what the houses are. “Oh, we’re sorted into houses when we get there today. Mum was in Ravenclaw and dad was in Gryffindor. I’m not sure what house I want to be in. They all seem like they have their merits.” At this, Josie leans forward and whispers in a conspiratory tone, “I’m going to be in Ravenclaw, I just know it. Mum says I’m a shoe-in for it. That’s where all the smartest kids go.” She nods sagely at Remi.

“Oh!” Comprihension dawns over Remi‘s face when Estelle is kind enough to explain.”How many houses are there?” He immediatly asks this out of curiosity more than anything. He looks at Josie and tilts his head at her comment about Ravenclaw. “Well if all the smart kids go into Ravenclaw they must get the most homework.” He smiles only a little at his remark and pulls th bear up a little closer to his face. “So I think I’ll go to one of the dumb houses. If it means less homework I mean.”

Josie seems dumbfounded by Remi’s remark regarding homework and is temporarily stunned silent. It is a moment for the history books. Essie takes up her slack, though, as she starts to ramble about the houses. “Well, there are four. There’s Gryffindor, that’s where my dad went, and my uncle, and some of my cousins. Daddy says that’s where all the bravest kids go. He says it’s the best house. Mummy was in Ravenclaw, and so was cousin Joseph. There’s Hufflepuff – cousin Alice and cousin Alden were in Hufflepuff but they graduated now so we won’t see them. Someone told me that’s where they put the people who they don’t know what other house they should go in. I think it was cousin Joseph.” Josie interrupts at this, “No, it’s where the hard working people go,” she corrects. “She hasn’t read about the houses like I have, don’t mind her,” she tells Remi with a shake of her head. At this, Essie continues. “And then there’s Slytherin. They’re the ones who get what they want, like prizes and things. I’ve heard that they’re all evil, though, so I don’t want to be in Slytherin.” Josie has nothing to add to this remark about Slytherin except a roll of her eyes.

“A house of evil kids?” Remi seems a little impressed by this. “If they are evil shouldn’t they not be allowed to learn any magic?” A logical question from one who doesn’t have any preconceived notions about the houses. Remi looks between the two girls for a moment. “Well I guess it doesn’t matter so much. If I end up in Slytherin I certainly wont ask them to send me home. But what a shock to suddenly find out you’ve been evil your whole life and may not have even known it!” He smirks watching Josie roll her eyes. “What house are you hoping to get into Estelle? I think I’ll avoid Hufflepuff if they have to work hard.” “Isn’t there a house for us who just want to learn without having to do anything?”

“I… never thought of it that way,” Essie admits, frowning a bit. “Well, I guess they can’t really send them away. There’s really not test for getting in or anything. Like an evil test, or something like that…” She shrugs and Josie squirms a bit in her seat. “There’s no house where you don’t have to do work. Everyone has to do homework, or you won’t be able to pass your classes! That’s why I want to be in Ravenclaw. If I’ve got to do homework, I at least want to do it with other smart people there to help me. We can all help each other! That’s what smart people do.” One might get the feeling that Josie is a bit of a show-off. Essie seems to be pondering as she considers Remi’s question. “I think I’d like to be in Gryffindor like daddy, but Hufflepuff wouldn’t be so bad.” At this, Josie interrupts. “She’s just kidding, Remi. We’re going to be in the same house. Twins always go together! Don’t be so silly, Essie.”

“So do we just get to choose what house we want to go into? Remi asks, obviously still a little confused by the concept having never gone to quite so large a school before. “At the school I went to there weren’t any houses. And you didn’t go live at the school. You went in every day and the students didn’t like to be there and neither did the teachers.” “And I certainly hated going.” He admits. The boy looks down at the stuffed bear while Josie speaks for her sister. “Are you sure? I guess it would make sense to put twins together.” “Unless they hate each other.” The boy smirks once again and looks at Estelle. “You don’t hate your sister do you? If I had a sister I’d probably hate her. But it’s probably not the same huh?”

“Of course we don’t hate each other!” Josie exclaims. “We don’t hate any of our siblings, right, Essie?” At this, her sister nods quickly. “There are nine of us. If we hated someone, it would make things very difficult for mummy and daddy, I think,” Essie states evenly. “I’m not sure if we get to pick which house we get to be in,” Josie admits, blushing ever so slightly at this admission. “I think there’s some kind of thing that chooses for you.” She gasps. “Maybe we DO have to take a test after all, and the people who go to Slytherin get evicted for being evil!” Josie‘s eyes get wide at this dramatic thought.

“Giggling now at the reaction from the two sisters Remi shakes his head. “Oh come one. That’s what families do. They hate each other.” He looks between the two of them with an expression that says that this is not only a fact but common knowledge. He looks back to Josie and cringes. “They would give us a test on the first day? Isn’t that a little unfair if your family aren’t wizards?” Suddenly very upset by this idea Remi hugs the small stuffed bear very tightly to his chest without thinking. “Everyone in my family is just plain and ordinary without any magic at all.”

“Not magic at all?” Josie asks vaguely, looking at him very closely. “I think it must be some kind of brain test, instead of testing what you know.” She pauses. “But I’m not totally sure.” Essie interrupts her vocal pondering. “Of course we get along. It’s not normal to hate your own family. I have five sisters and three brothers and ever so many cousins and I don’t hate any of them. Right, Josie?” Josie nods enthusiastically. “We have a huge family, and we all get along! Well, except Mummy and cousin Joseph. But he just makes her mad on purpose.”

“It’ll be fine, eh?” spoke the woman who directed the Hogwarts’ Express candy and snack trolly to the small, rather delicate-seeming young child she shepherded down the aisle. “One night at ol’ Hogwarts an’ ye’ll never wan’ ter leave, I’ll be’cha!” The child, a small girl even for her age, with face and eyes stung crimson from tears that still clung to her face, look unconvinced. Or more to say, on the edge of outright panic. Her tiny shoulders shook, and her eyes darted with almost heart-stopping fear in to each compartment that the trolly-woman openned, as if she expected some horrible beast to leap out the door and immediately devour her. For her part, the trolly-woman seemed to be ignorant of the child’s state, perhaps writing it all off to post-parental jitters. “Ah ha!” The middle-age woman said loudly, in a tone not unlike she had made some great scientific discovery. “A bucket o’ firsties — good, good.. room for one more, then?” She says, without really asking, before gently-but-insistantly pushing Joscelyn Duval in to the compartment. The older woman sizes up the compartment quickly, before turning her gaze to the two, similar-looking girls, deciding them to be the better of the three to entrust an injured gosling to. “Treat this one kind, eh? Found her sobbin’ in the lue. Bit timid.” Turning then to Joscelyn, she adds, “Try an’ enjoy yerself then — I’ll check back up on yah when I’m a bit closer tah this section, yeah?” And without truly waiting for a response, the door closes with an noise that perhaps only sounds loud and echoing to Joscelyn. Having flinched a bit at the strange-woman’s touch when she had pushed her in to the room, there was a part of her that craved the woman’s return and the relative safety her adult form provided. Finally, turning blurry, tear-speckled eyes to the compartment, she takes stock of her fate.

“No. I’m the only one who has any magic I guess.” Answers Remi. Just as he is about to argue his point about how families hate each other the compartment door slides open and the trolly woman is escorting another first year inside. Remi turns and listens to the adult and eyes the girl his face twitching ever so slightly hearing the woman’s accent. Apparently something about it is a little irritating to him. When the woman finally leaves the boy sighs a breath of relief and then looks to Joscelyn. “So what were you crying about? Are you afraid you’ll end up in that evil Slyther-thing house and they will send you home?” Remi‘s face stretches into a smirking grin. “I think that house must be a decoy.” He says looking over to the sisters. “If they send me home I think I’ll tell my parents that the school said I was evil. Then my papa will take them to court.” “He’s a lawyer you know.”

“Muggle lawyers won’t be able to do anything against wizards,” Josie states plainly with a little giggle. “They think we don’t exist!” Josie turns to see the newcomer and then beams. “Hi, Joscelyn!” she calls cheerily. “I was hoping I would see you today. Remi, this is Joscelyn. She’s my friend. She bought sweets from my mummy’s shop, and then we became best friends.” The girl nods sagely. “Here, come sit here. You can hold Merpurr if you want.” She brandishes the once-sleeping cat toward Joscelyn as Essie waves and smiles at the familiar girl.

Oh, sweet Mother of Mercy! A familiar face! Fresh tears begin to work themselves down Joscelyn‘s face almost immediate as she double-steps herself to the bench supporting Josie, Essie, and the familiar cat. Tears of relief so profound that it almost causes her to collapse. Accepting the offered feline, the small, wavy-haired blond seats herself next to Josie, opposite Essie, offering both the sisters what she can muster of a small smile, dabbing her eyes with her sleeve as she uses her other hand to tenderly smooth the feline’s fur as it gets settled in her lap. She appears to ignore Remi’s barb about her state. Indeed, she seems to be ignoring Remi altogether, focusing her attention either on the sisters, or the feline.

“Well I certainly didn’t know wizards existed.” Admits Remi. He looks to Joscelyn curiously when she uses the term “Sweet Mother of Mercy.” He stops talking for a moment to watch the girl who seems even more overwhelmed by all of this than himself. “Hello Joscelyn?” He mutters under his breath when it’s clear he’s being ignored. He holds his ever present stuffed bear tightly for a moment and set it in his lap before staring out the window at the scenery of villages and farm land.

“I hope we’re going to get there soon. I’m starving and I’ve already eaten the snacks that mummy sent with me. I didn’t even bring any sweets! Can you believe it?” Josie tsks and shakes her head, as if she is disappointed in herself. “Are you excited, Joscelyn? I’m sure we’ll be in the same house. It’ll be you, and me, and Essie, and we’ll have the best time. It would be Remi, too, but he doesn’t want to be in Ravenclaw. That’s okay, though, you can still be our friend,” she tells the boy with a quick nod.

Excited? Joscelyn wasn’t sure she would catagorize what she was feeling so much as ‘excitement’ so much as ‘blind terror’ — but in the end, that might turn out to be an issue of semantics. She summons a rather meek kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes and a small, vague nod. “I d-d-don-n’t k-know if-f I’ll m-m-make it in t-t-to R-rav-venc-c-claw,” Joscelyn whispers, quietly, her fingers brushing tenderly over the cat in her lap. She seemed to have a way with animals, though it could simply be the fact that with Josie as a master, the feline was used to almost anything. There does seem to be a hint of genuine panic in her voice, though, about that. Josie and she had talked about houses before, and over the summer she had read her Hogwarts, A History tome. She didn’t seem to think she fit anywhere, really. As Josie speaks to the boy again, Joscelyn turns her gaze slowly toward him, looking at him through downcast eyelashes. Almost guiltily, she offers him a small wave. Josie seemed comfortable with him, so perhaps she should at least acknowledge his existance. It does seem to take her a considerable amount of effort to actually make that happen, however.

Peering out the corner of his eye at the three girls Remi does a poor job of pretending not to listen and eventually he speaks again. “I don’t mind if they put me in Ravenclaw I guess. I just would rather not have extra work. And being smart means they give you more work.” And then he pauses to think about this. “Or less. If they think you are so smart you don’t need to do any work.” “Maybe Ravenclaw would be good if they don’t make you do a load of silly assignments.” He watches out the window as the train begins to slow apparently nearing the school. “I think we are here!” Remi exclaims excitedly forgetting for a moment to act as though he weren’t at all interested.

There is bustling about as Josie and Essie scramble around, trying to get their things together, only to be told to leave them on the train, that they will be brought in for them. “Bye, Merpurr, I’ll see you later tonight!” She tells the feline excitedly as she runs out of the compartment down the hall, hitting a bottleneck of students.

Students are now stepping out of the train and into the dark where Phoebe Helit, Muggle studies Professor stands ready to greet the smiling faces. She clears he throat as the last students pile out of the train and calls out loud enough so that the students may hear her. “Attention! May I please have your attention!” Waiting for the students to grow quiet she continues in a more civil tone. “I know you are all excited to be here and so I’ll try and get you all inside where it is nice and warm as soon as I can.” “Those returning will no doubt know that we have prepaired carriages to take you to the school! Please board them now and for goodness sakes no shoving!” “First years you will be following me! We have a much more scenic route to take to the school.” With that Phoebe waits for the first years to begin grouping up to her and stays to watch and make sure the older students all board the carriages.

The students around her start to move quickly as Seraphina barely catches the end of the professor’s statement. In a moment she is whisked away to the carriages and quickly climbs inside of one to avoid being trampled by a rather large group of boys.

Hurrying along with his bear tucked into one of his robe pockets (with it’s head out of course, so it can see) Remi stays close to Josie, Estelle, and Joscelyn. “Looks like we’re going to be taken to be tested.” He says to the girls. “I wonder if we’ll have to hike up a mountain or something like that.” The boy still as a hold of Joscelyn’s hand, though for what reason he is not utterly sure.

Josie has joined hands with Essie as they stand with the group of first years, so excited that she is shaking just a little bit as she moves from foot to foot. She waves quickly at Remi and Joscelyn as she looks around at the rest of the group, beaming.

As the train spews it’s mass of students and passengers on to the platform in a way that reminds Joscelyn of a book she read as a child that referenced an earthworm becoming sick to it’s stomach, the painfully shy young girl clutches on to Remi’s hand as if it were the only think keeping her afloat in that sea of people. She walks very close to the bear-toting boy, and just a half-a-step behind, as though she might hide behind him so he could protect her should some mysterious disaster ensue. Though she tries to keep her gaze low and avoid the sights of so many very tall, imposing-looking people in their black robes and pointed hats, she finds herself glancing from person to person in a state of almost rising panic. A feeling which cumulates as Pheobe speaks and her attention is routed upon the teacher. When Remi mentions that they’re going to tested, Joscelyn emits a small, almost silent whimper. She wanted to go home, very much.

Watching as the last student boards the carriages and they start to roll away Phoebe looks to the group of first years. “Alright then. is that everyone?” She looks around to make sure there aren’t any strays that she had not noticed. “You’ll all want to stick close to me. I’ll not come looking for you should you get lost.” This is all said with an air of playfulness from the kindly Professor. “Right. Everyone follow me. No shoving, name calling, and certainly none of that pesky magic.” With that Phoebe turns and begins leading the small troop down the the shore.

As they approach the lake, Josie tightens her grip on her sister’s hand, staying close together with the other first years. The combination of the dark and having never lived near the water has got Josie a bit out of her element as she looks out on the vast lake, wondering what lies beneath. “Do you think Uncle Freddie was being truthful when he told us about the squid?” she asks her sister, loud enough so that others can hear the question as well.

“S-s-s-sq-q-q-q-qui-i-d-d?” Joscelyn squeaks, her voice louder than it’s actually managed to reach all day. Hogwarts, a History had mentioned a giant squid in a lake — but she didn’t for a moment think that they would possibly go near said lake with said monsterous creature. If she were to clutch any tighter at Remi’s hand, she might actually begin doing damage.

Indeed it seems as though Joscelyn’s grip is causing Remi some discomfort because he begins shaking his hand a bit to ease it away. “Maybe the squid is the test?” He says to the girls. He watches the Professor as they near the lake looking to the boats. “I’ve never even seen a regular sized squid let alone a giant one….”

When the gaggle of students arrive at the shore many of them are beginning to shiver a little at the drop in temperature that the water tends to bring on, especially at night. Phoebe stops just at the waters edge and turns waiting for everyone to catch up before calling out again. “Alright everyone! We are going to be boarding these boats.” She stops to look over he shoulder at the aforementioned boats, muttering to herself (though perhaps still loud enough for some students closer by to hear) “Bloody creepy things, self propelled.” She turns again and begins speaking in her full attention tone. “No more than two to a boat please! And for the love of Merlin no horseplay.” She stops for a moment and smiles hearing Josie. “Not to worry dear. The squid is harmless. Think of him as a large underwater puppy really.” She looks up at the students and motions for them to start boarding the boats as she herself climbs onto one. “Bloody hate these things.” She mutters again.

Joscelyn blinks. Twice. A large, underwater puppy? Curiously, as hard she found that to believe, she found herself immediately curious about the strange creature.

Settling down into one of the boats with Joscelyn Remi looks out over the water. “Hear that Joscelyn? It’s like an underwater puppy.” He says this as though to reassure her though his tone quickly changes to that of mockery. “I wonder if that means it’ll like our bones when it eats us?” He turns to look at the girl, a mean sort of smile on his face. This might suggest that he himself is not afraid though the fact that he’s holding his bear close again might suggest otherwise.

“A puppy?” Essie breathes as they step toward the boats slowly. Josie steps in timidly and Essie follows her into one. Josie glances behind her as she watches some of the others climb into boats and sits down very slowly, glancing about her with trepidation. “I hope it’s not a… playful puppy,” she states quietly.

Once all of the students have gotten settled into their boats an unseen force begins gently gliding them forward across the water. Phoebe, in a boat with a small brown haired boy is the picture of unease as her boat leads the way. “Isn’t it pleasant? Drifting along the water?” She calls out. Something in her voice however says that she doesn’t enjoy it nearly as much as she lets on. “Just think. I missed out on this experience at your age dears.” “How lucky I must be to get to ride them every year in my adulthood.” This last statement while laced with sarcasm seems to be an attempt to impress on the students that this is something someone usually only gets to do once in their lifetime.

The fleet pushes off from shore in near unison. As the boats progress silently through the water, they leave no wake behind. Drifting along, the boats travel in an unhurried fashion, moving over the darkened waters in a loose group, but always remaining together. The chilly night’s breeze is more apparent here upon the lake.

Joscelyn Duval unfortunately misses the subtlety in Professor Helit’s tone that suggests she should attempt to enjoy a ride that should, by rights, happen only once in one’s lifetime. And she certainly isn’t impressed, nor curiously intimidated, by Remi’s mockery. She offers Remi a rather sour look as she looks up from the water’s edge — already owning that sacred, feminine gift of being able to communicate her dissapointment with someone in a single, silent expression. As frightened as she was by the whole process, she certainly didn’t need someone going out his way to make it worse for her. Perhaps the relative isolation of the boats was bolster her confidence some — less strangers to deal with at once. Regardless, her gaze lingers on Remi only for a moment, before shifting to Professor Helit — wondering about the one part of the woman’s statement she did truly absorb — that the woman had not been able to experience this ride at their age. “W-why n-n-n-not-t?” She queries, in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

Seemingly cowed by the strange experience, Josie‘s cheeks seem to have turned a pale green. “I wouldn’t exactly call it pleasant,” she mutters quietly, trying to stare directly at the bottom of the boat rather than into the water at all, lest she see anything even remotely squid-shaped.

When the boats start to drift forward Remi clutches the stuffed bear closely and peers over the edge into the dark water. “It’s not so bad. But it’ll be better when we get inside.” He looks off over the lake into the direction the boats are moving. “I wonder what kind of food they serve in a magical school? If it’s anything like the candy I had in Diagon Alley I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave.” The boy looks up to see Joscelyn’s dissapointed expression. It only seems to amuse him really and he looks again out toward the lake.

As the fleet continues forward, the southern shore recedes into the distance, and is lost in loose tendrils of smoky fog. The northern shore is not yet in view, concealed as it is by a thicker blanket of pale haze. The air is cooler over the lake, and as the boats drift further onto the water, there a more pronounced breeze that nips through robe and sweater alike.

Watching her young charges quite dutifully Phoebe repremands a pair in the bot closest to her who have begun dropping things into the water. “Stop that both of you!” She says this rather sharply proving that she doesn’t have to be nice all the time. “There are mer-people living in this lake and they deserve a clean home as much as we do don’t you think?” The two children blush and begin to behave again. Hearing Joscelyn Phoebe smiles. “I didn’t get to ride the boats when I was your age because I am a squib.” “Squibs don’t attend Hogwarts as most of you will no doubt know.” She doesn’t seem at all ashamed to admit that she lacks any magic of her own to the students.

Joscelyn blinks, again. Twice. Once to each bit of knowledge just dropped upon her — that merfolk existed, and not only that, apparently lived in the lake just outside her new school. And at the term she had never heard used before. Canting her head a little in curiousity, and responding only to Remi’s amusement with her dissapointment by vaguely rolling her eyes, she queries on. “S-s-squi-ib-b?”

“A squib…” Josie whispers quietly, looking upon the professor somewhat in awe. Of course, the girl knows what a squib is, but she never expected one to look so utterly… normal! Josie leans closer to where Joscelyn is. “It means someone who can’t do magic, but not like a muggle. They’re born to magical parents, but can’t do any.” Josie‘s best attempts at subtlety end up sounding almost theatrical.

The fleet has begun to move through the steadily increasing fog now, reducing visibility to a scant metre or two. Dim lights from the lanterns on the other boats of the fleet can be seen, flickering softly in the wind. The breeze is gentle, but consistent and quite cold out here upon the nearly still nighttime waters, where is there is no shelter and no warming fire. The only company is the steady rocking of the boats and the dim lights of boat lanterns.

“Mer-people?” Now Remi sounds positively in disbelief himself. He peers over the edge of the boat squinting his eyes and trying to see through the water to spot the mer-folk. “Well I guess if the squid hasn’t eaten them I don’t see why it would eat us.” The boy sounds almost disappointed in this. He looks up from the water hearing the strange new word and nods in comprehension when Josie explains what a squib is. “I guess that makes sense. She’s a fish out of water like us Joscelyn.”

Looking a bit shocked, Josie‘s eyes get wide. “I didn’t say she was a fish!” she gasps quietly. “Please don’t tell her that I said she was a fish!” The girl is perhaps a bit disoriented by the whole situation as her nerves start to get to her, interfering with the ability to think logically.

“Oh,” Joscelyn murmurs, quietly, in response to Josie’s explaination, considering it quietly as she studies the Professor. Feeling a curious kinship with the older woman, she turns her gaze back to Remi and nods slightly as he voices her very thought aloud. She blinks again, however, as Josie begins to act in a slightly irrational way. It was a reaction and a panic with which Joscelyn could relate, very much. Reaching out gently, the young girl makes a move to take the other’s hand gently. “It’s alright,” she whispers, without a stutter, and with a quiet, understanding smile that actually does reach her eyes. Though they had only known one another a short time, comparatively, it was a clear mark of how Josie had been folded in to Joscelyn‘s world-view. Or perhaps it was just the caregiver in Joscelyn, seeing a floundering soul in need of comfort. Most likely some combination of both. “I know how to handle puppies and swim. We’ll be fine.”

The fleet has finally begun to leave the haze behind, although the mist tries vainly to cling to the boats and it still laps at those lingering in the rear. The Forbidden Forest encroaches upon the eastern shoreline, bordered by grey mist and shadow. The northern shore has come into view with the castle of Hogwarts silhouetted against the hills beyond; the immense towers rise up in stern defiance to the centuries they have weathered. Few windows break the even stone facade of the castle walls, preserving the mysteries within from prying eyes. However, those few windows are merrily lit from within those hallowed halls, revealing the welcoming warmth that can be found within, a homecoming to those who have made a long journey. Ivy and similar plants sprawl across the walls of the castle, their unruly density hinting at the senescence of the walls themselves. The breeze is still cold, nipping at the boats and rustling over the water.

Pulling her cardigan a little tighter around her to stave off the chill Phoebe calls again over the water. “I do hope you all had the good sense to put on your cloaks. It’s always chill out on the lake.” She looks out over the group and smiles. “When we get inside you’ll be sorted and there will be a big feast in your honor.” Well in reality it’s a feast in everyone’s honor but who’s keeping track? The Professor doesn’t seem to hear the chatter about fish and squibs, and if she does she doesn’t comment or seem offended.

Quietly, Josie takes Joscelyn’s hand with her free hand as she continues to grasp Estelle’s in her other, and silently she stares up at the large castle that the boats are slowly approaching. “Wow…” she whispers. “It’s bigger than I expected it tobe,” she admits.

Squeezing Josie’s hand gently, Joscelyn follows the other girl’s gaze toward the castle looming in the horizen. Her new home, so far away from her parents and the pleasant little valley where she had spent the greater majority of her life to that point. Holding on to her Aunt’s words, trying her best to be brave, she swallows back a breath and nods in response. It was big, for sure. But big enough to hold the rest of their new lives? Her free hand moves toward the silver cross dangling from about her neck, which she squeezes softly.

The fleet has begun to pick up speed, accelerating rapidly towards the northern shore. Clear of fog, all that remains of the distant haze is what marks the barriers to the southern and eastern shores, the mist lapping on top of the water but the fleet has now broken free of its grasp. Remarkably, the boats still leave no wake to mark their passage across the water. The speed causes the brisk air to hurtle past, reducing the apparent temperature further and setting the lantern lights to flickering even more, though none of them have gone out.

“Oh wow.” Comes Remi‘s exclamation of pure awe and the size of the castle as it looms into clear view. He shivers as the boats pick up speed and the resulting gust blows over him causing him to chill a bit. “It’s blood c c c cold alright.” he mutters to himself. Of course he forgot to put on his cloak, who knew they would be going out on a lake in the middle of the night?

Rising suddenly as through from beneath the water, the looming bulk of Hogwarts Castle blots out the evening sky and casts a dense shadow over the shoreline, broken only by the steady glow of the lights from within a large section of the building. The boats have begun to decelerate now, but are still moving rapidly as they skim towards the darkness ahead. As it grows steadily darker, the night air takes on a crisper and ever more frigid bite.

The fleet has now passed into the shadow cast by the Castle and descended into absolute darkness, evading the dancing lights that reflected from the windows above. The lantern lights, which have remained so faithful during the journey, have abruptly faded away. Only the steady flow of cold night air moving past indicates that the boats are still moving; there is no other sensation of motion.

The fleet has halted at the lakeshore just below the castle, the transition from movement to rest having occurred smoothly, but without warning. Dim reflected light illuminates a stone stairway, worn smooth with age and use, with steps rising for two metres before disappearing over the cliff top. You can now DISEMBARK.

Bonnie Kensington strides in confidently with a group of first years following behind her. It is with great ceremony that the professor places the sorting hat on a stool near the front of the Great Hall, then steps back expectantly.

Pulling out a long scroll, Bonnie clears her throat before calling out, “Adamson, Lilith,” who goes to Hufflepuff. Following Lilith, “Amsel, Remi!”

Holding onto his stuffed bear amongst the crowd of other first years Remi looks out over the four tables of the Great Hall and to the imposing faculty table. As the strange hat begins to sing he looks rather shocked. “The hat is singing.” He clearly states the obvious to the three girls. “And they want us to put that on our heads?” Once his name is call Remi gives a small gulp and walks up holding his bear in one hand and place the hat onto his head. It’s slips down over his almost perpetually obscured eyes so it makes little difference, and then he takes a seat.

Rising up from his seat Remi removes the hat and places it carefully back in it’s place. “It’s not such a bad old hat after all.” He says to himself passing the other first years as he takes his seat at the Ravenclaw table.

Several more students are sorted to varying houses before Bonnie calls out, “Duval, Joscelyn!”

Watching as Remi is sorted in to Ravenclaw, as well as a handful of other students, Joscelyn swallows back a breath. She had tried her best to steel herself for this after reading about it in “Hogwarts, A History” — standing in front of the entire school, a sea of strange faces in the midst of strange faces. As she stared ahead of her, tears streamed down her face. She didn’t want to do this. She wanted to go home. But she couldn’t. She had to see it through. Clutching her small, silver cross pendant with both hands, as if it might somehow grant her the strength of the divine, she inches her way to stool after her name is called. Eyes clenched shut, breath held, face wet. She actually bumps in to Bonnie’s leg and the stool when she reaches the middle of the stage, parting her eyes just enough to climb up on to the seat.

Josie Wexler takes a deep breath as she watches her new friend get sorted, then clutches her sister’s hand as she watches Joscelyn take her turn getting sorted.

Joscelyn Duval blinks, twice, lifting her head sharply. She really had no idea what the hat meant, but she takes it off quickly and moves toward the motioned for table with a look of surprise.

Josie Wexler gasps as Joscelyn’s house is announced. “I never thought that,” she admits to her sister as she watches the girl make her way to her new table. “I so hoped she would be in Ravenclaw with us,” the still-unsorted young student says to her still-unsorted sister.

There are quite a few more students sorted along the way, siblings of this student or that. Lambert, Marnie goes to Slytherin while Lawson, Anders goes to Hufflepuff, then finally Bonnie calls out “Wexler, Estelle.” After a moment’s consideration, the hat calls out that she should go to Hufflepuff before it calls for “Wexler, Josephine!”

Josie‘s high hopes are dashed as not only does her friend not get sorted to Ravenclaw, but neither does her twin sister. The girl looks somewhat devastated as she slowly walks toward the stool and sits down, taking just a moment before she lets the hat down onto her head.

Eyes wide as the hat makes its announcement, Josie looks less dejected than she had a few minutes prior. Shaking her head a bit, as if she is in a bit of disbelief, the girl snatches the hat off and tosses it down onto the stool as she runs over to the Ravenclaw table, stopping only to look somewhat wistfully at the Hufflepuff table, where her sister sits.

After calling Zeelen, Hannah to Slytherin, Bonnie smiles upon the full hall then takes her seat at the faculty table contentedly.

Still smiling a little at seeing the Wexler twins, who she considers nieces, get sorted, Avery Fallon looks around before realizing that she is up next. Standing from her place at the faculty table, Avery pushes her chair back and makes her way down, eventually standing in front of the table she left, facing all the students. “Welcome to Hogwarts,” she begins, after a moment’s hesitation, as if she’d have liked to start with something more profound but lacked the presence of mind. “The start of each year is a time of great excitement, and I know everyone’s waited a long time for this moment, so I’ll be quick,” Avery says, generalizing a fair bit. “For you first years, I’m professor Fallon and you’ll be seeing me shortly for your Astronomy classes. Normally you’d be hearing our Headmistress, Professor Rathe, make this speech. She’s found herself a bit delayed today, but rest assured that you’ll all meet her in due time. Until then, I’l l tell you to heed your teachers, because they’ve got your best interests at heart. Follow the rules and make your parents and housemates proud. Keep out of the forest and mind your manners.” Avery pauses for a moment, considering anything else she might add. Presently, she shrugs. “Be a good friend and try your hardest. If you do, your Hogwarts years will serve you very, very well.” She smiles now, with a single nod. “With that, let’s begin the feast!” At this, the platters on each table swell with food, and Avery turns on her heel to take her place once more.